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#if you use they for me when you don’t know what mine are that’s fine! that’s fine!
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Mad Season 6 🕸 Story A
Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: this is Peter's side of the story.
Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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“Um...” you drone dumbly at Peter. “I don’t know.” 
He stares back at you. He looks scared, “you don’t know?” 
“I’m sorry, I...” the raucous party rumbles on inside the walls. “I can’t think here.” 
“Hey, let me grab my jacket, we can talk outside,” he offers. “Wait, where’s your coat? You can’t go out like that?” 
You look down and realise you left your jacket inside. In fact, he took it. You shrug and he holds up a finger.  
“Please, just give me a chance.” 
You nod. What else can you do? He rushes back through the door and you turn away. You try to ignore the couple sloppily lapping at each other’s mouths. 
You don’t know what to think. You can barely cling to a coherent thought. Bucky’s warning echo in your head. Isn’t this proof? There are other girls, not just you. Yet, you keep asking yourself why you care about them. Peter asked you to be his lab partner, not his girlfriend. 
In fact, no one has ever asked you to be their girlfriend. Why would they? You’re quiet and boring. You shrink back against the wall and peer down at the floor. You should just tell Peter to go back to MJ. 
He appears and your resolve rots away. He only has his coat. “Hey, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t find your coat. I looked all over. The green one right? With the orange buttons? I don’t know what happened but take mine.” 
He holds you his jacket, “Oh, it’s fine. I can’t--” 
“Now what kinda jerk would I be if I let you go cold?” He insists. “I’ll be fine. Really. I like the cold.” 
You blink and take the jacket. You don’t like arguing. You already feel bad enough after barging in on him and MJ. You can’t stop thinking of it. God. It feels so... wrong. 
He walks you down the hall. You’re both silent. You keep distance between you as you get to the elevator and ride it without saying a word. You go out into the lobby and as you get to the front door, you grab the front of his jacket and start to push it off. 
“Please, keep your coat. I should go home--” 
“Just hear me out, okay?” He begs and stops you from taking off the coat. “Please.” 
You face him and dip your chin, “okay.” 
He sighs. You peek up from under your eyelids. He smiles nervously, cheeks pinkening, and he shifts his weight on his feet. He clears his throat. 
“Look, I’m an idiot. I went into that room with MJ. I know how she is. I’m not going to play victim here. All I can say is it won’t happen again.” His jaw ticks, “I’m a dummy. I was... I was so nervous about talking to you. I know you hate parties but I thought if I was drinking I could just tell you how I feel. And of course, it just made me stupid.” 
Your mouth falls open. He can’t be saying what you think he is. Right?
Before you can respond, the door to the lobby opens and you look over as MJ struts out. Her long legs are toned in her heels and her short leather skirt. Her hair is perfect and her makeup brings out her natural colouring. She’s perfect and you’re wearing a pleated skirt. 
You look at Peter again and deflate. 
“Peter,” MJ approaches, “why’d you run off?” 
“MJ,” he sighs, “I told you--” 
“What did you tell me before you had my tongue down your throat?” She smirks. 
“Stop,” he snips. “I said no.” 
“But you didn’t stop me,” she scoffs. “And now what? You’re scurrying around with her? Really? Her?” 
“Don’t be mean,” Peter steps between you and her, as if he’s trying to hide you. 
“You call it mean, I call it honesty,” she chirps back. 
“Get out of here. You weren’t even invited,” he snarls as he reaches back and latches onto your wrist. 
“When did you turn into such a fucking loser?” She snips and shoves him.  
He collides with you but takes most of the impact. She stomps out in her clunky heels as you turn to watch her. She doesn’t look back. 
Slowly, you spin back to Peter, “are you alright?” 
“Yeah, fine,” his shoulders droop. “Look, I get it. I screwed up. I don’t want to ruin the rest of your night. I already dragged you here. Just, take my coat, get home safe. Be done with me.” 
His eyes twinkle wetly and his nose twitches. He looks like he could cry. As small as you are, he seems even smaller in that moment. 
“You didn’t let me answer,” you say. 
His forehead lines in confusion and his lips open wordlessly. 
“I... I’m surprised is all. It’s been a weird night and...” You sway and fold your hands. “I’m kind of a mess myself. I really don’t do well in crowds. I know you know that.” You try to smile. “And I know it’s lame but... I really do try and...” you look away and your cheeks heat up. “I don’t think I would if I didn’t like you too.” 
Another suffocating silence sucks the air out of the room. You fidget and stare at your boots. You wince as Peter steps closer. He surprises you as he pulls the jacket closed and does up the zipper. As the tab reaches the top, he taps your chin and you look up at him shyly. 
“Can I walk you home?” He asks as he brushes his hand down the sleeve and tickles your fingers. 
A full smile breaks through and you nod giddily, “sure.” You grab onto his hand, vibrating in vibrant excitement. Can he feel you shaking? 
“You still cold?” He asks as he tugs you towards the door. You shake your head but as you step outside, he puts his arm over your shoulder and pulls you close. He walks you down the pavement as a blistering wind blows around you. “Gotta keep my girl warm, huh?” 
“Your... girl?” You squeak. 
He hums and squeezes you tight, “all mine.” 
93 notes · View notes
hiraethwa · 1 day
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to be loved is to be known
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one; you are not meant for me // but the heart wants what it wants
<the collection — to be loved is to be known>
pairing. kageyama x reader
cw. angst, timeskip, setter!reader, one-sided pining, blasphemy, currently married!reader, fluff if you squint (no adultery)
wc.4.2k
featured track. the 6th summer by PLAVE
my heart knew it was you from the moment we met. but you were never mine to begin with.
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kageyama tobio is a logical person. his teammates would describe him as a mechanically precise monster who can effectively deconstruct opponent plays and use his insights to counter strategize their own attacks. a highly rationale driven individual, known to be impassive off court. 
in his high school years, he has watched his senpais yearn after their manager, even hinata, falling for a classmate in their third year, the relationship ending in tears when they broke it off because hinata was leaving to brazil. he has seen love take precedent and how it always seem to break the hearts of those involved. 
but he never understood why someone would put so much of themselves on line to love someone who could choose to walk away at any point in time. 
unlike most people’s beliefs, kageyama isn’t heartless, or emotionless, or indifferent to love. after all, he loves volleyball just fine. it’s just—he figures, why love someone, when they always leave you behind, whether voluntarily or otherwise?—why love someone, when he can choose to devote himself to volleyball which will never abandon him?
and then you came into the picture, wholly unaccounted for. a fellow setter, a true rival, and he found himself wanting to fly with you. someone who understands his pivotal role in his team’s offense, the control tower, as he had once said to hinata. someone who obsesses over every little detail as he does.
at first, he had attributed the feeling of recognition to meeting a true rival in you as a fellow setter. that feeling that he had yearned for as a middle schooler watching the senpai he looked up to, oikawa-san, serve and set like a god. the connection he missed due to rivalry, and the connections he severed unknowingly to be the team that stays on the court the longest. 
it couldn’t have been love, because if it was, then he would also be in love with hinata like everyone keeps saying. besides, why would he fall for someone who is in a relationship?
it would be immoral to fall for you, he reasons, you are dating kuroo-san.
he quickly learns that despite the warm demeanor you have when it comes to volleyball, you keep everyone at an arm’s length outside of it. he notices the line you draw between your professional career and your personal life, and he is careful to stay on the right side. 
he allows you to set the boundaries that you are comfortable with, keeping to the practice meets that became a monthly routine where you exchange your latest updates on your plays and offer pointers on improving, dissecting each other’s games that quickly spilled over into its own afternoon meetups over coffee. 
slowly but surely, it turns from a fan and her idolized player into two equals analyzing and plotting improvements for their next game strategies. 
of course, kageyama shares the admiration that comes from picking your brain on his weekly calls with hinata. 
“i don’t know how i didn’t think of that before oumae-san suggested it—” he stops himself as he catches hinata giving him a look of sympathy, snapping at the older boy, “what?”
“kageyama, do you know how many times i have heard you talk about oumae-san in the past months?”
“huh? why would i be keeping count?” he frowns at him through the screen.
hinata nods in pity, “exactly. i don’t know either because you are constantly saying oumae-san this, oumae-san that.”
kageyama averts his eyes from his friend, feeling the tips of his ears warming under his inspection. “i don’t talk about her that much.” it comes out in an unconvincing mumble.
“you know i would support you no matter what you do, but oumae-san is getting married to kuroo-san soon. i don’t think it’s good for you to keep pining after a soon-to-be married woman.”
he wishes he could snipe the orange haired boy through the screen, only because he is right. he drags a hand over his face in frustration. damn him, he knows that he is falling for you, but he is utterly helpless in stopping himself. 
you’re a dreamy sunny day that he wishes to bask in forever. too bad kageyama is the snow storm that sweeps through winter. 
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kageyama tobio well knows that he is truly hopeless from the moment he realized that he fell for you, the mind behind the name. 
he is in love with the way your mind works to find counters against your opponent’s defense and open up a path for your team’s attacks. the way you find just the perfect moment to do a setter dump, catching the other team unaware. the way you dissect and analyze plays calmly during timeouts. the way you listen intently to him when he speaks.
the worst part is that you are not even trying to make him fall for you. you are just being your perfectly normal self, keeping all your interactions at a respectful and professional level—probably more professional than respectful at this point, since you would give him shit for his unforced errors. (actually, he also likes that you keep him accountable, unlike most people who would brush them off as mistakes that happen sometimes.)
that gods-forsaken line between your professional and personal lives now more solid than before as a married woman. 
and yet, he had fallen for you without even trying. 
he had tried to follow hinata’s advice to move on from you, to quote him directly—“stop putting her on a pedestal. she’s only human, she is bound to have something that irks you.”
he tried, really, to find your faults in your interactions. the tiny crease between your eyebrows as you think hard about the game you are exchanging analysis on, the small pout on your lips as you work through possible counterattacks. your dry reply when he says something dumb, or the excitement in your eyes when recounting a strategy (that you both came up with together) that worked. 
it’s not working. in fact, it’s achieving quite the opposite of moving on from you.
he curses hinata shoyo for his shit advice as he watches your practice match against france from the vip section in the stands. something feels off, he thinks, finding that you are not landing evenly on both feet when you set to your spikers. 
he realizes a moment too late that you are heavily favoring your left foot over the other just as you land awkwardly on your ankle—your shrill yelp sounding from the court. 
kageyama jumps to his feet worriedly, hands gripping the back of the seat in front of him as he peers over to you. he reminds himself that he is just another professional acquaintance of yours, forcing himself to take a seat as your coach and teammates rush over to you. 
you don’t play for the rest of the game. 
later that night, upon finding no news from any media outlets about the severity of your injury after scouring the internet, he starts typing out a message to you—how are you doing?
no, that won’t do, he shakes his head, deleting the small letters on his phone before typing out another message—is your ankle alright?
he pauses for a few moments, wondering if he would be crossing a boundary to inquire about your wellbeing. i probably shouldn’t, he decides against it for the better, choosing to believe (or hope) that no news is good news. 
he erases the message to your number, letting the device fall next to him as he puts his arm over his forehead. fuck, what am i doing? 
you have a loving husband to go home to, who will take good care of you. there’s no place for someone as removed as him to be worrying after you.
after all, gods are meant to be worshiped from a distance, and you would fit right in next to the ones who torment him so. 
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to his dismay, his delusions of relief only lasted a few days. 
kageyama tobio knows something is wrong the moment he finds the court empty on the third friday of the month. the court that you live and breathe on. the court that he always finds you practicing your serves while waiting for him. 
his heart catches in his throat as he rings your number, holding his breath as he desperately hopes that you are okay. 
you pick up on the seventh ring. “kageyama-san? ah, sorry. i forgot to tell you that i won’t be able to make it to practice today.”
“it’s fine, kuroo-san. i was at your match on sunday. are you doing alright?” you both stubbornly stick to using formalities when addressing each other—kuroo-san to remind himself that you are so far beyond his reach that he can just forget about it. (he doesn’t.)
“oh, that? i’m fine,” kageyama breathes out a sigh of relief from hearing your words. relief that comes too soon, as it is quickly followed by your strangled yelp coming from the other end.
“that didn’t sound like you are fine.” he realizes you must be saying that just to keep him from worrying, any rational thought flying out of his mind. 
he had seen kuroo-san, your husband in passing at work just this morning, but if you’re injured, and still stubbornly moving around, or worse, even keeping it from your own husband—“send me your address, i’ll be over soon.”
kageyama ends up having to call in the team physician to look at your horribly swollen ankle, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep himself in line. the tips of his fingers twitch every so often when you wince at her touch as she inspects your ankle. 
he tells himself that you are so, so strictly off limits. 
though, he makes the mistake of asking about kuroo-san, your husband. he wishes that the words never left his lips as his eyes catch the microexpression that betrays your emotions. you quickly brushes off his question with a joke, as if you have had plenty of practice.
he barely keeps that haze of anger in check as he calls your husband after excusing himself for the night and wishing you a speedy recovery, not allowing himself to ponder on the ‘what could have been’s—of how he would never put work above you, especially if you’re hurt.
he politely explains your situation to your husband, and yet kuroo has the audacity to sound offended at his request to spend more time taking care of you in your condition as an outsider.
“she’s my wife, i know how to take care of her.”
then act like it. kageyama bites back the retort, knowing that it wouldn’t help matters—that it might actually add to your burden instead of easing it. 
he bristles when kuroo tells him that he has to go finish up some work before he could leave, mystified as to why kuroo would ever put work above you. 
kageyama pockets his phone and lets his arm hang lax by his side, shaking his head at himself. it’s not his place to worry over you, much less tell kuroo how to be a husband. 
the gods have judged him, and deemed him unworthy of you. 
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kageyama tobio knows your serve routine by heart. a tuck of your hair over your left ear, then your right, followed by a swish of your ponytail to confirm that it is holding securely. fingers smoothing over the hem of your jersey. your left hand outstretched with the ball in front of you, you would lick over your top lip, teeth catching your bottom lip before you launch the ball upwards and forwards, body coiling into a spring that shoots the ball out across the net.
he knows the extra time you take to warm up your right wrist due to a prior injury. the overly bubbly personality that you hide behind when you are upset or disappointed. the modest smile that is dazzling (he swears that you really do sparkle when you smile like that), not because you’re pulling your charm out, but because you are not. 
your unpretentious smile that comes from the heart still guts him each time becoming less common, to his disappointment. and gods, does he try to coax that smile from you when he sees you, would give you the entire universe with all the planets and stars in it if he could, just to see the unfiltered crooked smile from you. the one you claim to hate because it reveals the singular dimple on your cheek. 
he also knows that you love flowers, deduced from the bouquet of peonies on your lockscreen and the different floral arrangements that you post to your social media each week. and your order at the coffee shop that you get without fail—latte with lavender and honey instead of simple syrup.
he knows all the details he picked up from his observations in the time he has known you, details that he absolutely adore, while being hyper cognizant of the line drawn between you. 
he knows, lives at the edge of that boundary drawn by you, enforced by him. his iron grip on his own actions to hold the line, keeping his desires as they are—a daydream of a world where the gods favored him. 
kageyama knows this all too well. 
and because of that, he knows something is not right when your contact lights up his phone screen with an incoming call on a friday night. 
your number is saved under kuroo y/n, a reminder of where he stands in your life. he addresses you as kuroo-san, another constant reminder to stand firm on his side of the line. 
he hesitates, but his index finger swipes across the screen, accepting your call before his logical side could stop it.
your voice crackles across the line before he could get a word in. “you finally picked up!” 
he could just picture the pout on your face (that also appears during practices when you mess up), but it was the childish whimsy that accompanies your slurred words that dusts his cheeks in pink—the intimacy in your tone that he suspects is not meant for his ears.
“i miss you,” you admit softly, sadly, in a tone that makes his heart clench in pain. as much as he would like to give you comfort, anything you ask him for, really, he knows he’s not the one you’re really looking for. 
“yuki, give that back!” you complain, sounding further away from your phone. another female voice comes into the call, “no, is that kuroo tetsuro? that asshole!” 
kageyama thinks he should say something to clear up the situation, but the words die in his throat—what could he say, really?
“wait, what? kageyama?” the other female mumbles to herself, and kageyama assumes that whoever that yuki is returns the phone to you as your sweet voice calls out to him again. 
“are you done with work yet? you’ve been so busy again lately…” you trail off, “do you think we will go see the cherry blossoms outside of tokyo next year? you promised we would this year, but something came up with your work.”
he really doesn’t want to jump to conclusions about your marriage, but he would be lying if your words don’t make him upset on your behalf. it makes his blood boil to even think about his senpai prioritizing work over his wife. from what he witnessed when you were injured, and now this—you begging for his time, it is exceeding hard to believe otherwise. 
why would he choose work over you? he tries not to read too much into the situation, but—if that asshole is really making you live on scraps of his love, why are you still with him? 
oh right, because you love kuroo tetsuro. 
if kageyama was in his shoes, he would never make you ask him for his time. in fact, he would make sure you feel like the most loved person in the entire world. what do you even see in him— 
he shakes himself out of his intrusive thoughts, wondering instead if he made the right decision to give kuroo a push back then; if he just contributed to dragging out your situation rather than helping. he reminds himself that you had looked happier in the following weeks, until now.
he opens his mouth to say something, but your friend beats him to it. “say, you should come pick y/n up! it’s pretty late and she’s so plastered.”
finally, he stumbles to his words. “kuroo-san, i don’t think—”
he isn’t sure if you hear him over the loud music in the background and your friend’s insistence for him to come pick you up. “i’ll send the address to you, please come get her before she drinks herself to death.” 
he wonders if she knows. 
it isn’t long before he pulls up at the address you sent him, parking at a street lot that opened up as he drove by, lucky him. kageyama feels out of place among the partygoers in the club, dressed in sweats and an oversized hoodie over his plain t-shirt. 
he wonders if you would be disappointed to see him instead of your husband. your good for nothing husband who is apparently still at work on a friday night.
kageyama tells himself he shouldn’t feel as crestfallen as he does at that thought. just as he shouldn’t feel the skip in his heartbeat when his eyes land on you, or the urge to pull you into his arms and kiss the top of your head. 
or the protective instinct that kicks in as he gets closer, sensing the exhaustion in your demeanor, wishing to shield you against everything that the world throws at you. 
he really, really shouldn’t feel the relief that floods his veins at the gratitude in your eyes—not disappointment, he notes—and the gentle smile that graces your lips at his approach. that smile that he loves so much, knocking the breath out of him, reflecting on his own features that are normally set in a disinterested scowl. 
gods, is there anything he wouldn’t do to keep that smile on your face?
“tobio, you came.” his name leaving your lips for the first time, as you fling yourself into his arms with such familiarity that he has never seen from you. it takes every inch of his willpower to not crumble to the floor before you, beg you to let him love and worship you for the goddess you are. 
it takes every shred of his resolve to keep the words from overflowing past that cursed line. to keep his features neutral, intercept the storm ripping through his winter from touching your pleasant spring. 
so he holds on to you awkwardly, savoring the rare moment of affection, mumbling into your hair, “you called.”
“mmm, we’re celebrating my birthday! do you want a drink?” he releases you first, letting his arms fall to his sides. you tug him towards the bar before another woman stops you, disapproval set in the lines of her face.
“i let you out of my sight to go to the bathroom for a few minutes, and you’re already making a beeline to the bar.” this must be the yuki on the phone then. her eyes flicker behind you to kageyama. “this is kageyama?” 
“kageyama tobio, nice to meet you.” he manages a stiff nod.
“tsuda yuki. thanks for coming on a short notice, i appreciate it. she really doesn’t want to leave, and kuroo isn’t picking up.” yuki keeps a firm grip on you, tugging you in the opposite direction—to the exit, narrowing her eyes when you pout at her. 
you seem to have mellowed out since kageyama arrived, the sadness behind your eyes just a tad lighter if the strobing lights weren’t playing tricks on her. oh, whatever works, works. it’s almost two in the morning, and she thanks the gods that you are finally willing to go. 
yuki exchanges a few words with kageyama before they come to a mutual decision to have him drop you home since he has a car and she has to call a cab in the opposite direction of where you live. 
“be good for kageyama, please?” she basically begs you to be on your best behavior as her cab shows up. you’re clinging onto her like your life depends on it.
“we’ll be fine, tsuda-san.” kageyama tries to assure her, but she shoots him a look of disbelief. 
“you don’t know her like i do. she is… really out of hand when she has alcohol in her system. the last time she was this drunk, she tried to—” the cab honks at her to hurry up. “are you sure you got this?”
“yeah, i’ll have her call you when i drop her off.”
tsuda-san is right. kageyama comes to that conclusion after spending 15 minutes trying to get you into the passenger seat and checking that you put your seatbelt on.
he breathes a sigh of relief, focusing on the road ahead as you finally settle down, preoccupied with the buildings and bright lights that pass by in a blur. strangely enough he finds that he didn’t mind it one bit, having his hands full with taking care of a drunk you. he actually found this wild, unchecked side of you endearing.
he gently shakes you awake once he parks the car. it seems like most of the alcoholic effects have worn off during the drive as you lean onto him for support in the elevator, yawning and rubbing your tired eyes. 
your apartment is dark, devoid of life as you enter, kicking your shoes off in the entryway, mumbling a tadaima, mostly to yourself. kageyama would have missed it if he was not following closely behind you, making sure you don’t trip and fall over. 
his heart aches at the thought of you coming home to an empty apartment, your tadaima announcing that you’re home unmet with its other okaeri half from your husband to welcome you back. 
“make yourself at home, tobio,” you curl up on the couch, putting on a travel vlog on the tv on a low volume before dialing yuki’s number, letting her know you’re home safely. 
“hey, why don’t you change into more comfortable clothes? let me get you some painkillers. where is the medicine cabinet?” he nudges your shoulder. you lean back against the headrest, pouting at him again. if only you knew the effect you have on him.
“i’m lazyyy.” 
kageyama attempts to reason with you. “c’mon, you can go to bed right after too.”
“too tired to move.” you cross your arms at him. 
“kuroo-san…” he sighs. 
“why do you always call me that? my name is y/n, you know.”
“y/n, would you please change into pajamas?”
“nope.”
“what can i do to change your mind?”
your grin splits your face from ear to ear. “you could carry me to the room.”
“what—” he rubs the spot between his eyebrows. “okay, fine.”
kageyama scoops you into his arms effortlessly, and can't help but notice how the shape of you fits perfectly against him. your eyelashes flutter close as you rest your head against his shoulder, inhaling deeply and exhaling the spooled stiffness in your frame. 
the fullness in his heart lasts less than a minute. he catches himself staring at you when you meet his gaze, fingers smoothing against his brow as your feet touch the floor. “you’re going to get wrinkles before your time, tobio.”
he scurries back to the living room, leaving it at that. his cheeks are colored again, his back against the shut door of your bedroom, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. 
“stop it.” he mutters, more so at himself than anything, looking through the cabinets in the kitchen for some painkillers, and filling two tall glasses of water for you. he knocks on your door after a few minutes, easing the door open carefully when you tell him he’s clear to enter. 
he hands you the pills in one hand, water glass in the other. “drink up.” 
kageyama notices the melancholy in your eyes resurfacing as you lean back against your pillow on your side, hand outstretched towards the empty half of the queen-sized bed, but he wisely chooses to leave it be. 
you squeeze your eyes shut, turning on your side away from him. “good night, tobio. thanks for coming.”
“of course.” anything for you. kageyama tucks you under the blanket, fingers smoothing over the duvet, itching to run them through your hair. he curls his hand into a fist and shoves it in his pocket before his body betrays him. 
“happy belated birthday, kuroo-san.” he whispers into the darkness, leaving the full glass of water by your bed, and quietly closes the door behind him. he turns off all the lights in your apartment and washes up the other glass, fighting the strong urge to check on you when he hears a muffled whimper coming from your bedroom. 
you probably don’t want him to see you like that. 
he forces his feet out the front door. and a smile onto his face the next day when he sees you with puffy eyes and no memories of the night before. 
he really, really wishes he met you first. 
kageyama tobio curses the gods that put him on this trajectory. 
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taglist. @hatsukeii @daisy-room @soulfullystarry @kitsune-kita @bakery-anon @hiraethwrote @thechaosoflonging @bakingcuriosity (open! askbox for taglist)
a/n. the pining, the heartache, the devotion; kageyama you will be loved </3 y'all i love him so MUCH i actually don't have the words to describe it... tobio brainrot all day every day <33 please expect slow updates!
awaiting updates? browse the library while waiting
if you liked this, please consider leaving a like, comment, rb or ask <3 (perhaps i enjoy breaking hearts a little too much)
46 notes · View notes
chlobliviate · 13 hours
Text
Wolfstar Microfic - Azkaban
Words: 993
@wolfstarmicrofic
TW: suicidal ideation in a hyperbolic way
🌙✨🌙✨🌙
The first night that Sirius spent at Remus’ cottage after being ordered to ‘lie low’ there wasn’t ideal. Nobody wanted to wake up their ex-boyfriend with their night terrors. Nobody sane, anyway. Sirius wasn’t entirely sure which side of that line he fell on anymore, but when he woke up to Remus holding him to his chest and reminding him where he was, he hated himself.
By the time they moved to Grimmauld Place, it was established that Remus would tell Sirius a story about their time at Hogwarts as he fell asleep. This helped Sirius to remember, but it also helped with the night terrors, which they both suspected were some kind of lingering effect of the dementors.
Remus had his own room at Grimmauld Place, and he usually retreated to it once Sirius had fallen asleep, even though they’d shared a bed for months before that. It helped him to keep things separate. Telling Sirius stories about their teenage selves was hard at times. Remembering James and Lily, remembering Peter and remembering how in love they’d been. He didn’t know how much Sirius remembered of their relationship, but as most of his positive memories were taken, he probably remembered a lot of the last few months and not much else. He mostly stuck to stories about James and Sirius, or the four of them.
“Tell me about us.” Sirius had whispered after a few weeks, as Remus got comfortable next to him. “I know you’ve been avoiding those stories.”
“I didn’t know if you’d want to hear them,” Remus said. “Or what you remember.”
“I remember shouting at you in the shack and there was blood, but I don’t remember why.” Sirius said, “That seems like an important one but I can’t get to most of it. Tell me that one?”
Remus chuckled, knowing the exact memory he meant. “Alright. So, this was about a month after Lily agreed to go out with James.”
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“Moony!” Sirius sounded frantic as Remus struggled to open his eyes. “Can you hear me?”
“Unfortunately.” Remus groaned. Sirius was shirtless, and covered in blood. He looked up at Sirius, panicked. “The fuck did I do? Are you ok?”
“I can’t stop your shoulder from bleeding. What do I do? James has gone to get Madam Pomfrey but you’re —”
“Oh, it’s mine? Just leave it.” Remus’ eyes shut again, “I’ll sleep it off. It’ll be alright.”
“You can’t sleep off blood loss you unbelievable prick. Wake up!” Sirius shook his uninjured shoulder slightly, pressing his shirt against the wound on the other.
“Sirius.” Remus growled, “Shake me again and you’ll wish you were dealing with the wolf.”
“Sit up!” Sirius ignored him. “You can’t go back to sleep.”
“It’s fine.” Remus’ eyes closed again.
Sirius snapped, “It’s not fucking fine, Remus! Sit up and open your eyes.” Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’ waist and hauled him into a sitting position before reapplying pressure to his shoulder. He felt Remus smile against his shoulder.
“If you wanted to wrap your arms around me, all you had to do is ask, Padfoot.” He said, and Sirius swore that Remus’ teeth grazed his shoulder. “I think all you can do is apply pressure and hope for the best. I’ve got a lot of blood.”
“Moony, I love you, but when you’re not bleeding profusely in my arms, I’m going to be so fucking angry with you. ‘I’ve got a lot of blood’ is not— No, you don’t. You have the same amount of blood as anyone else, you wanker. Sometimes it’s like you don’t value your life.”
Remus, half-conscious as he was, felt very called out. “My life doesn’t have much value, to be fair.”
Sirius inhaled sharply, “No. Because you don’t have people around you that would do anything for you. You’re not a fucking wizard. Your life has no value.” He said sarcastically.
“Didn’t mean it like that, Pads.” He mumbled. “Don’t.”
“Then how did you mean it?” He shouted. He would have walked out if he didn’t know that Remus wouldn’t be able to hold the shirt on his shoulder.
“Well, I love you too, by the way.” Sirius almost dropped the shirt as Remus’ eyes closed again. “When you have no choice but to turn into a monster once a month and repeatedly take chunks out of yourself, you can judge the way I cope with it. I’m in a lot of fucking pain and I just want to sleep. Thank you for helping, as always, I appreciate it. I’m just so tired.”
“No.” Sirius poked his cheek until his eyes opened again. He looked mutinous. “You're going to stay awake. I think I can hear them in the passage. Once you’re patched up, you can sleep.”
“You’re going to make me talk about this later aren’t you?” His eyes almost closed again, but he managed to open them and blink a few times.
“Of course I am.” Sirius could feel his heart pounding in his head.
"You could just focus on the love part, and not the hyperbolically suicidal part, if you wanted.”
“We’ll see.” Sirius tried so hard not to smile. “If you tell me again when I’m not covered in your blood, I’ll think about it.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Remus said as Madam Pomfrey burst through the door, followed by James, who took one look at Sirius and almost threw up.
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“So when I got out of the hospital wing, I couldn’t wait, I pulled you behind a tapestry on the way to Charms and told you I loved you again. You were still pissed off, but I convinced you that I was pretty determined to stay alive.” He looked down at Sirius who was asleep. “You don’t know how much you’ve always helped with that.”
He considered going back to his room, but eventually slipped beneath Sirius’ duvet and curled up against his back, wrapping an arm around his waist.
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clarisse0o · 14 hours
Text
Camp Wiegman-Part 80
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Alternative Universe: Military School
Words: 5K
Masterlist
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Saturday, April 16; 5:30 PM - Porto Airport.
Here we are, in Porto. I can hardly believe it. I mean, I'm from Portugal, but I've never been here. It's always been a city I've wanted to visit, and here I am. Lucy smiles at me to reassure me.
"Are you ready?"
"As if I had a choice."
She laughs softly and steals a kiss. She's lucky I love her madly. In a few minutes, we're going to get off the plane and meet her parents. Despite her teasing, I can tell Lucy's been nervous since yesterday. She gave me a little rundown of what to expect, and honestly, I have no idea how to act.
"I love you. Don't forget that."
"I know."
We exchange a smile, and we walk hand in hand down the disembarkation corridor. My hands are sweaty. There are people all around us. When we reach the hall, I let Lucy take the lead in looking for them, as I've never seen them. All I know is that her father is really tall and her mother have white hair.
"I see them! Are you coming?"
"I'm right behind you."
She guides me while I keep looking around for them. I finally smile when I see Alexia running toward us. I barely have time to let go of my girlfriend’s hand to catch her in my arms.
"You’re finally here!"
I let out a sigh. I had forgotten they arrived before us. That’s great news.
"Hey. I’m so relieved to see you."
"Me too! I have so much to tell you."
"Really? Did you have a good week?"
I almost forgot she spent the week with Jenni and her sister. I imagine she has lots to share.
"It couldn’t have been better. And you? You look like you got some sun."
"A little, yes," I giggle.
I glance over her shoulder to see Lucy standing next to her parents and Jenni. I smile especially when I see her in the arms of a woman I assume to be her mother based on her appearance.
"You’ve already talked to them, I guess?" I ask Ale.
"Yeah. Your mother-in-law is a bit... I don’t know. Intimidating? She’s something else."
"Thanks, Ale. That’s really reassuring," I mock.
"Sorry," she laughs. "Just giving you a heads-up."
I nod. Anyway, Lucy already warned me that her mother would be the one to intimidate me the most with her cold demeanor. In a way, it reminds me of Lucy when we first met. She was the same, so I guess it’s not insurmountable.
"Her dad, on the other hand, is adorable. He hasn’t stopped chatting with us."
I glance at him. Once again, Lucy warned me not to judge by appearances. He reminds me of my dad, but even more impressive.
"That’s something, at least."
"Come on, I’ll go with you through this tough moment. We’ll chat later."
I nod. I can’t run away forever. Alexia links her arm with mine to guide me. I let her. I’d rather do that than have time to overthink. Lucy smiles immediately when she sees us. Ale lets go of me when my girlfriend reaches out her hand. I take it and don’t hesitate to snuggle against her.
"Mom, Dad, this is Ona, my girlfriend. Ona, this is Diane , my mother , and Kim, my father."
"Hello," I say timidly. "I’m happy to finally meet you."
"And we are too. Lucy has told us a lot about you. Don’t be shy around us. We’re glad Lucy’s brought someone home."
"Well, that puts a lot of pressure on me."
The words slipped out, but they seem to amuse her father, who catches me off guard with a hug that tenses me up. Lucy smiles with amusement beside me. Maybe this trip won’t be as bad as I feared. Well, except for her mother, who has been staring at me the whole time. Lucy’s father saves me from having to approach her by suggesting we hurry home. Lucy kisses my temple, wrapping her arm around my shoulders as we walk.
"You’re doing great, honey," she whispers. "You’re perfect. Just keep being yourself, and everything will be fine."
Her words give me the strength I need for what’s ahead. The non-interaction with her mother bothers me a bit, but I suppose I’ll have to get used to it for now. Lucy said not to expect much from her at first.
"You all must be starving," her father says as we head toward the exit after collecting our bags.
"Oh, yes, you’re not kidding," Jenni replies. "I’ll be glad when we’re home."
"You’ll have to wait a bit. We invited your parents for dinner tonight. We thought it’d bring back good memories."
"What a great idea. Are we having a barbecue?"
"Of course. You’ll help me grill the meat."
"Gladly!"
It seems like everyone’s looking forward to tonight. I really hope everything goes well.
Saturday, April 16; 7:30 PM - Bronze House.
Lucy loved my house, but she didn’t do too badly with hers either. It’s a small house with a lovely, well-kept garden. Like me, they live away from the city, in a very friendly neighborhood. It’s peaceful. You can’t hear anything, even though we’re outside sipping a drink for now. The Dads and Jenni are handling the grilling. Jenni looks a lot like her dad. The mothers are, to my relief, inside preparing salads. I have some breathing room and, more importantly, an escape from my mother-in-law’s watchful eyes. She won’t stop. I feel like she’s scrutinizing my every move. It’s very unsettling. Thankfully, Alexia keeps me relaxed with casual conversation.
"I need to use the bathroom before we sit down," I tell Lucy. "Can you show me where it is?"
"I’ll come with you."
"Oh no, you don’t have to. Just tell me."
"Sweetheart, I’m coming with you," she insists. "We’ll be back in ten minutes," she tells Ale.
"No problem, I’ll check in on the others in the meantime."
She winks at me as we walk into the house. Lucy takes me upstairs, which feels strange at the moment. But then she opens the door to the bathroom, right next to her bedroom. At least now I know I won’t have trouble finding it if I need to during the night.
"Thanks."
"Is everything okay, love?" she asks, stopping me with her question.
"Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?"
"Well, you’re not as cheerful as when we left Lisbon."
"Well… your mother is quite the character, but I’ll be fine."
She chuckles softly, sliding her hands around my waist.
"I know, I’m sorry if she’s making you uncomfortable."
"Oh no, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, and honestly, she’s not making me that uncomfortable. I haven’t even spoken to her yet."
"You’re right," she sighs. "I know she likes to observe before acting, but she’s never been this intense. I’ll say something to her eventually."
"No! Please don’t, Lucy. I don’t want her to think I’m playing the victim or anything."
She sighs heavily. I cup her cheek, and she looks up at me.
"And then what? I’m not going to let her create tension between you two during this trip."
"Well, I don’t know… Maybe she’s waiting for me to approach her? Maybe I should make the first move. What do you think?"
"I’m not sure you’re ready to—"
"Ready for what?" I interrupt. "I think I’ve been through enough to handle a conversation with your mom, Lucia."
"That’s not what I meant," she sighs.
She averts her gaze, clearly thinking it over. I can tell she’s nervous. Either she’s hiding something serious, or she doesn’t think I can handle her mother.
"Okay… If you feel like facing her, go ahead. She’ll appreciate the gesture."
"Thank you."
I smile and kiss her gently.
"Can I use the bathroom now? »
"Yes," she laughed. "I'll wait for you."
She let go of me, and I hurried to take care of what I needed to do. I washed my hands and came back out. Lucy was leaning against the door, looking deep in thought. I stood in front of her and wrapped my arms around her.
"Hey, how are you?"
She shrugged.
"I don’t know. It’s always strange coming back here."
"I can see that. We're far from peace and quiet, huh?"
"Yeah," she chuckled.
I gently stroked her hair, full of love.
"Do you want to talk?"
"No, it's fine."
"Okay... You know I love you, right?"
A small smile formed on her lips.
"Yeah, it seems like it..." she replied playfully.
"You think that’s funny, huh?" I asked, pulling away a little.
"Just a bit."
A small gasp escaped me when she flipped the roles. I found myself pressed against the wall, speechless as she kissed me softly. I kissed her back with growing desire.
"You’ll never love me as much as I love you," she teased.
"Wrong. I already love you more than you love me."
"No, I don't think so," she teased back.
"Girls! We're ready to eat!" Ale called from the stairs.
"Well, duty calls, it seems."
"Yeah, convenient for you."
"I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s go fill our stomachs instead of arguing over a debate that, in my opinion, has no possible outcome."
I chuckled softly.
"You're just afraid to lose, that's all."
"Are you done yet? I might start thinking you’re doubting my feelings."
She stepped back, crossing her arms. She was truly adorable when she pretended to sulk. Usually, it was me in that position. I tilted my head, smiling.
"Are you kidding? After our nights at the beach, there's no way I could ever doubt your feelings."
I moved closer to her again, pressing our bodies together. Her hand gliding over my hip caught me off guard, and once again, she had me pinned against the wall. My breath was short, but I let her kiss me once more, tenderly. I felt myself surrender more and more, and I loved it. I had developed an unshakable trust in her. Last week had truly been paradise. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I had fully found myself again. We were in perfect harmony, and nothing made me happier than knowing we’d be living together permanently in just a few weeks. I snapped back to reality when Lucy started to venture a little too far along my neck.
"Lucia," I whispered.
That didn’t seem to stop her, but a pinch on her butt certainly did the trick.
"Hey!" she protested.
"You made me wait for nights last week because we were under my grandfather's roof. Don’t think you’re going to get away with it any easier here."
"And what, exactly? Want me to find us a beach?" she teased.
"You’re ridiculous," I giggled. "We almost got caught more than once last night, remember?"
"Oh, come on, it was kind of fun, wasn’t it?" she teased, letting her hand wander under my shirt.
"Sure, but you weren’t the one half undressed when it happened."
"True," she laughed.
I gave in to her lips one last time. That’s when we were interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing. I panicked a little but relaxed when I saw Ale standing there.
"So, this is what you've been up to this whole time? We’ve all been waiting for you."
"Sorry about that," Lucy laughed. "We’re coming."
"I hope so!"
She turned around without checking if we were following. I was ready to go, but Lucy held me back one more time. I thought we were done.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Forget about all that for now. Don’t worry about my mom tonight. Focus on me, okay? I want us to have a good evening for our first night here. Can you do that for me?"
I took a deep breath but nodded.
"Okay," I murmured. "I’ll try."
"Thank you. I love you, don’t forget that."
I smiled as she kissed me one last time. Now it was time to keep my promise. I just hoped her mom wouldn’t traumatize me.
Sunday, April 17th, 08:30 AM - Bronze House
I groaned as I felt movement beside me. I reached out to place my arm over Lucy’s body, but I realized she wasn’t lying down anymore.
"What are you doing?" I mumbled.
"Shhh, go back to sleep."
"Where are you going?" I grumbled, blinking as she tried to get out of bed.
"I can't sleep anymore. Jenni texted me. We’re going for a run."
I sighed contentedly as she stroked my head. It felt so good. I closed my eyes again.
"You're leaving me alone?"
"We’re just doing a quick loop around the neighborhood. You won’t have to leave here without me, okay?"
"Hmm..."
I heard her words, but I was too tired to process them. Lucy chuckled at my response.
"I love you. See you soon."
I felt her lips against mine. I let out another small groan as she finally got out of bed. I wasn’t able to stop her, but instead, I slid over to her side of the bed, hugging her pillow to me. On the one hand, I hated that she left me alone for her morning runs, but on the other, I loved being able to enjoy her side of the bed in her absence. Without fully realizing it, I drifted back to sleep.
Sunday, April 17th, 09:00 AM - Bronze House
I stretched out in the big bed, realizing I was alone. I vaguely remembered why, thanks to Lucy’s departure. I sighed and reached for my phone. It was still early for me, but I could hear movement in the house. There was noise coming from downstairs. I didn’t know when Lucy had left, but I didn’t particularly feel like waiting for her up here. Knowing Alexia, she was probably still sleeping. She loved to sleep in as much as I did. Or, maybe she had gone with the others. That was a possibility too. I waited for a while, but eventually decided to get out of bed. It was ridiculous to stay there, and with a bit of luck, Lucy’s dad would be downstairs. I took the time to get dressed and make the bed before heading to the bathroom next to the room. I brushed my teeth and fixed my hair before heading downstairs. After all, I was at my in-laws’ house, and the least I could do was look presentable. My feet led me to the kitchen after I noticed the living room was empty. I instantly regretted leaving the bed when I saw that the only person there was Lucy’s mother, who had, of course, already spotted me.
"Good morning," I said, a bit awkwardly.
"Good morning, Ona."
"How are you? Is there anything I can help you with?"
The woman smiled. That was a first. I hadn’t received a smile from her yet. I’d had a pleasant evening yesterday, but I’d had to ignore her to avoid feeling uncomfortable.
"Lucy told us that you don’t particularly like cooking. Maybe you could set the table, if you remember where the silverware is."
I blushed furiously. Lucy had really told them that? We were going to need to have a little talk.
"Y-yes, of course," I stammered.
We’d put the dishwasher away last night, so I remembered perfectly where everything was. I moved toward the kitchen to start looking for the plates.
"So, she was right?" Lucy’s mother asked.
I swallowed hard. Had she painted me as some sort of failure to her parents? I felt embarrassed by the answer I was about to give.
"Yes, it's true. I never really took the time to learn how to cook, but I do help Lucy from time to time since we moved in together. Well, on weekends, at least," I added, unsure of how much she actually knew.
I prefer to stay honest. It’s not by lying that I will gain her sympathy. She doesn’t respond, so I step forward to the table to set down four plates.
“Are you planning to take care of my daughter?”
The question catches me off guard. She stopped what she was doing to look me straight in the eye. I realize she’ll probably judge my answer if it’s not what she expects.
“I understand you might feel uncomfortable with my behavior,” she continues. “But you have to understand, I only have one child. It’s my duty to know if she’s in good hands.”
I take a deep breath. In a way, I’m glad she started the conversation. I would have never had the courage to do it myself. Besides, the question was simple. I just needed to answer from the heart.
“I love your daughter, so of course, I’m going to take care of her. She’s my priority.”
“You love her, huh? So, you’re not with her out of interest?”
“What—what? No!” I reply, offended. “Lucy has given me so much, and I have genuine feelings for her. I would never use her.”
“Really? So there’s no ulterior motive? Not even a financial one?”
I laugh bitterly. This woman is something else. What does she think? I can see that my attitude doesn’t please her, but I can’t help it. I close my eyes for a moment, clench my fists, and collect myself.
“No, none at all,” I reply more harshly than I intended. “If you know so much, I imagine Lucy has also told you about my father’s death... So you should know I inherited everything from him. Even his house in Lisbon, so you can understand that I’m not in need financially.”
I don’t like that she’s doubting our love so much. Plus, forcing me to talk about my father—that’s the last straw. Unexpectedly, her eyes soften, which is rather disconcerting. Up until now, she’s only looked at me with judgment and coldness.
“I did hear about that tragedy. My condolences. I’m also sorry for attacking you like this, but I’m still Lucy’s mother, and I have to protect her. She’s been through enough, but you seem to be good for her.”
Her words make my heart skip a beat. What does she mean by “been through enough”? Is she referring to her relationship with Keira? I don’t know why, but since what Lucy told me last week and how she’s been acting since we got here, I have doubts that it’s just that. Something else must have happened here too.
“I observed you a lot last night. I can see that you make my daughter happy, and after this conversation, you seem like a remarkable young woman. Know that Lucy needs support, even though she’ll never admit it.”
I struggle to hide my surprise. Until now, I never noticed that Lucy needed support. On the contrary, she’s always the one who’s supported me.
“Don’t look so surprised. You’re already supporting her without even realizing it, so keep it up. The only thing I’ll ask of you is to never betray her or break her heart.”
I blink several times. Am I to understand that she’s finally giving me her approval? It touches me in a way, considering the person standing in front of me. I blush despite myself and nod.
“Absolutely not, ma’am. I wouldn’t even think of it. I love her far too much to do something like that. I fully intend to keep Lucy by my side forever.”
She nods calmly, with a small smile.
“Good. I’m trusting you with my daughter, then. Take care of her. And you can call me Diane from now on.”
A weight lifts off my shoulders at those words. The conversation is going well.
“Welcome to the family, Ona.”
Definitely going well. Her words warm my heart. She’s clearly offering me recognition. I smile gently.
“Thank you... Diane.”
“Do you like pancakes?”
“Oh yes, especially Lucy’s,” I admit enthusiastically.
“Well, you’ll have to settle for mine today. But they shouldn’t be much different from my daughter’s since I’m the one who taught her.”
I smile softly and nod. I continue setting the table, and when I’m done, I hear the front door slam. My girlfriend’s laughter and Jenni’s echo in the hallway before they appear in the room.
“Hello!” she says cheerfully.
Her expression shifts to surprise when she sees me here. She wasn’t expecting it. After all, she asked me to wait upstairs. But that was out of the question for me. I wanted to take the opportunity to talk with her mother, and now that’s done.
“Hey,” I greet them.
“Oh, you came downstairs after all.”
“You told her to wait upstairs?” her mother scolds. “I wasn’t going to eat her.”
“Oh, with you, who knows,” Lucy laughs before coming over to hug me. I let myself relax until I catch a whiff of her scent. I grimace and try to push her away, but she holds on tighter.
“You stink,” I point out.
“What? You don’t like my natural scent?” she teases.
“Yes, but definitely not your sweat.”
She laughs before kissing me. Her lips carry me away every time. It’s as if I melt in her arms.
“Everything okay? She didn’t torture you too much?”
“No,” I giggle. “Everything went fine.”
She nods, glancing briefly at her mother, who doesn’t seem concerned about us.
“Are you and your girlfriend staying for breakfast, Jenni?” she asks instead.
“No, I’m heading home. I’m expected there, and I need a shower too.”
“Great idea,” Lucy comments. “We’ll take one as well. See you this afternoon?”
“Yeah, we’ll text to figure something out.”
“Okay, sounds good.”
“See you later.”
She turns around and leaves as if it’s nothing. Something tells me she feels right at home here. She seems very comfortable and well-accepted by my girlfriend’s family. Lucy catches my attention by kissing my cheek.
“Are you done here? Will you join me?”
“Oh, um…”
I blush. I think I understood what she meant earlier when she said “we” to Jenni. I glance at her mother for some sort of approval. She doesn’t seem to care. She’s not even looking at us. I turn back to Lucy, who has a mischievous expression.
“We can’t do that,” I say softly so only she can hear.
“Come on. No one’s upstairs, and we can talk about what happened while I was gone.”
She teases me, playing with the hem of my t-shirt. I shake my head, but Lucy isn’t giving up.
“Mom, will you call us when it’s ready?”
“Yes, go ahead. We’ll call you when it’s time.”
“Perfect, thanks.”
Lucy grabs my hand and leads me upstairs before I have a chance to understand what’s happening. I hardly recognize her. She’s never been this persistent. We arrive upstairs, and she guides me into the family bathroom.
“You’re exaggerating. We can’t do this here.”
"We're not going to do anything. I just want to take a shower with you. Is that too much to ask?"
She tilts her head while teasing the back of my bra under my t-shirt. I roll my eyes but smile nonetheless. She seems to really want this moment, so I give in.
"Just a quick shower, but don’t say I didn’t warn you."
"Thank you, my love. I’ll go get some clothes. You get the towels ready."
She gives me a quick kiss before disappearing into her bedroom. A pretty spacious room, by the way. It’s about the size of our room in Manchester, with fairly neutral colors. Actually, it resembles her apartment’s style a lot—minimalistic, but very pretty and harmonious. I listen to her and go in search of the towels. This room has a bathtub, a shower, and some storage cabinets. I hope she doesn’t get any ideas when she sees the bath... She's been quite playful these past few days. I jump when arms suddenly wrap around me from behind. I didn’t even have time to look before she’s already here.
"Haven’t you taken your clothes off yet?" she whispers.
"I was waiting for you. And honestly, I haven’t even found the towels."
I turn around to face her and also to check if the door is locked, which it is.
"Did you lock it?"
"Of course. Now, undress."
She kicks things off by stripping off her clothes, letting them fall to the floor. Unlike her, I plan on putting mine back on, so I fold them neatly. Meanwhile, she turns on the water and checks the temperature. I feel happy to be getting more comfortable around her. She makes me feel wanted. It's been a long time since I’ve felt that way.
"So, where are the towels?" I ask.
"Right here, look."
She points to a cabinet right next to the shower. I grab two for later. When I turn around, Lucy already has her hand on my waist.
"You're really eager today," I giggle. "What’s going on with you?"
"I don’t know. I just want to spend time with you."
"Quick, remember," I say as she pulls me under the water.
"Promise," she laughs. "Just a shower," she murmurs against my lips.
I smile as she kisses me, closing the door behind her. We try to share the water jets as best as we can. The space is smaller than anything we’ve been in before. Lucy keeps her promise and just focuses on washing me. She takes her time, lost in thought. I know she enjoys doing it, so I don’t say anything. I like it too. The way she looks at me makes me feel like a wonder of the world. It’s so crazy, considering how much I dislike my body.
"Everything okay?" I ask.
"Of course," she says, smiling softly. "I’m with you, so everything’s fine."
She says that, but I can tell something’s bothering her. She kisses me, so I stay quiet. I rinse off once she’s done. Now it’s my turn to pamper her. I start with her hair. I smile when I see her close her eyes. Looks like someone really needed this. I understand better why she insisted on having me with her. I take advantage of the moment to kiss her shoulder.
"Don’t start if you want me to stay calm," she mumbles.
"Oh, but you will stay calm. It’s my turn to take care of you."
"Really, hmm?"
She sighs in contentment as I give her a scalp massage. I start to wonder if she’s simply letting go...
"Yes. I know how to do it, and you seem to need it."
"You’re right."
I smile. It’s rare for her to admit things like this, especially so easily. That must mean it’s true.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I whisper.
"No."
"Ladies, dinner will be ready soon," comes the distinct voice of Lucy’s father, interrupting us.
"We’d better hurry up," my girlfriend advises.
"Okay..."
I let it go for now. She really doesn’t seem to want to talk. I get the sense I’m not the only one who’d prefer to escape the past... I finish washing her quickly so we can get out. The last thing I want is to upset Lucy’s parents, even if everything seems to have settled down.
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jiggery-duggery · 11 months
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I think if I get they/themmed one more time by someone who knows damn well what my pronouns are I’m just gonna go full chimpanzee mode and start tearing peoples faces off
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whimsyprinx · 2 years
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ANYWAYS I’m working on a little bottle charm, here’s how it looks rn
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coyote-fawn · 9 months
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#so i have been looking at ancestral practices to add to my collection#(WHITE SUPREMACISTS AND NATIONALISTS THIS POST IS NOT FOR YOU KEEP FUCKING MOVING)#bc my heritage is mostly hungarian and slavic and germanic#i have been peeking into those areas#and everything seems to be leading back to the scythians as far as a practice/cosmology that resonates#but it is so difficult to find untainted info#obvs im not talking about christianity bc it just kind of syncretized its way in#and that’s fine#tho im most comfortable with a practice that is faaaar away from christianity for personal reasons#im talking about like. people made shit up and also white nationalism#ofc because i live in the US my main focus is my region#but i like what im finding and i wish i could find MORE#would scythian practice be closed??? is it weird for me to go so far back in history????#agh this is mostly just the result of me not having anybody to talk to about this IRL so im going insane#ALSO how much of this is closed???#i know there are potentially shamanic practices in some of this and i don’t want to take what’s not mine#even if some of my ancestry is held there i didnt grow up in it and i really do not want to take what i am not welcome to#these are practices that i respect so deeply and i do not want to do them an injustice.#ALSO of course the white american lack of identity leading to people saying ‘oh im x nationality’ when their family is generations removed#there’s a lot going on there that i can’t speak to eloquently#but i know that’s something to consider as well#(my recent ancestors mostly kind of suck so building a practice based on them isnt something i will do#just as an aside to why I’m doing this specific searching so far back)#but the lack of cultural identity (or more the ‘american identity is the default so much that we dont even see it anymore’#and ‘my ancestors squashed their heritage so they could assimilate but were still extremely privileged in many areas so#how do i reclaim that and still acknowledge my struggle is lesser than others’)#so im going insane. again.)#if anybody with perspective wants to chat about this please hmu!!!! i am begging you!!!!!
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sanjisblackasswife · 4 months
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JJK Men with a GF with a Fat Ass (NSFW-ISH)
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…I’m taking a small break from drawing and I missed doing HCs. Shaddap.
Ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Choso
Black ! Fem Reader in Mind
CW: Twt Links!, mentions of sex, men are a bit OOC
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Gojo
Gojo definitely does this to you anytime you lay on his lap. And if he finds out you’re not wearing any panties under it…welp..all plans are now cancelled
He’s a pervert and it’s your fault.
He’s never really seen women of your stature often so when you both were younger he was so BLUNT with his thoughts about your body.
“You have a very voluptuous—“
“Imma stop you right there….VO-WHO?”
“You don’t know what the word vo—-“
“No, I know. I’m confused as to why you are using that word when talking about my ass.”
Gojo is 6’6-7” , he’s a big nigga, but can he handle a big behind?
No.
No he cannot.
He constantly uses his blindfolded eyes to shamelessly watch the way your walk across the room in public. His poker face is actually impressive, but if you couldn’t see how tight his fist were in his pockets it’d prove otherwise.
He’s so got damn childish he does this shit sometimes because he thinks your ass is perfect for playing on
“CAN YOU STOP.”
“Whhhyyyyuuuhhhhhh.”
When you wear moomoo’s or a big shirt it is his favorite
Yup.
Moomoo.
Your ass is free to move and shake to its desire and he just watches in awe. He loves you bad.
Another thing he loves doing is napping on your butt, he doesn’t sleep often, unfortunately, but he can attest that the best nap he has ever taken was in between your plush thighs and ass.
He blames his pretty little girlfriend as to why he is now an ass man when he initially was a boob guy.
Geto
He takes these kinda pictures with you which sometimes leads to him pulling down your underpants and massaging it with his bare hands to then licking or kissing it to then…eating…you…out…while you’re standing.
He loves watching you put on clothes.
Having to shake, jump, and wiggle yourself into some pants is actually so sexy to him.
If your butt is anything like mine and is HEAVY. He LOVES it even more , watching the way the movement in your butt and thighs to match is something Geto finds so so mesmerizing.
One thing about Geto he’s very sneaky, he’ll come up behind you to help pull up your bottoms you clearly need no help putting on, and everytime he does you can feel a slight pressure on your ass that is a verrrryyy familiar feel to a bulge.
He can’t help it, your ass is so pretty.
Sitting on his lap is a must, whether he is talking with someone in public or doing some work he needs to feel your weight on him.
The first time you sat on his lap you swore you heard a groan. When you turned to ask him if he was okay, his cheeks were very pink.
He denies it to this day, but even if he did it’s your fault because why does your ass feel so good against his pelvis?
Showers with Geto are so insufferable in the best way because once you finish cleaning yourself your long haired boyfriend can’t wait to practically grind and hump against you into the cool shower wall.
He definitely loves hugging you from behind, swaying you back and forth. To others it’s a cute gesture seeing such a big man hold you so close, practically dwarfing you , only you and him know the real intention behind it was just him whispering how good you look in that dress and how badly he wants you.
Geto is such a sensual person next to nanami. Even after sex and you’re laying with him in a bliss he finds his way to continue his love by kissing and licking you down and praises of how beautiful and sexy you are even after such activities. He calls it “Cleaning you up”…little perv.
“‘Was wrong?… Embarrassed?”
“YES.”
“Good, now c’mere.”
Toji
Ass eater.🫵🏾
That’s an ass eater he eat ass🫵🏾.
Toji “Ass Eater” Fushiguro
You thought gojo was shameless? Toji is WORSE
As an ass connoisseur he prides himself on always reminding you how fine you are to him.
“You like my dress?”
“Hell yes, mama. Turn around for me.”
SWAT to the ass just to see it recoil
He definitely slaps and GRABS. It’s kinda hot though because he’ll do it anytime anywhere
For example you went with him to some horse racing game for him to make bets and got hungry so you headed to grab a few drinks and snacks. Before walking past him, his legs were spread, tooth pick in his mouth and just like clock work you feel a firm hit to your Jean covered behind.
“OOWWUH!”
“Sssh, Baby im watchin the game….what? Your ass was all in my face what else could I do?”
Whether you are a chunky girl or a skinny girl with a larger butt he don’t care he quite actually is your biggest fan.
Toji is your new seat btw.
Not just his pretty face but his lap too.
He’s a big strong man so don’t EVER think or assume you’re too heavy for him. It ACTUALLY wounds his ego more than you think.
Of course Toji being the ass eater he is almost every other night is spent just like this or sitting on his face. He never seen himself as a pleasure dom kinda guy. With his one night stands he only had sex for himself, but with you of course being the first woman he finally got to love after MamaGuro he takes his time with you. It’s a slutty sight but he knows it’s exactly what can get you off before him
Nanami
This man here.
A KING.
Freaky king but a king none the less.
He loves every part of you.
Which is what he does say and prove everytime you both are together but he does have a small little quirk about him that you aren’t sure whether or not to point it out in fear he may stop out of embarrassment or awareness.
Most men guide their woman by putting their hand on their lower back
Nanami however does this
ESPECIALLY on date night.
Just like Geto he loves to watch you dress, but also dresses you himself
“Wear this, yes? It compliments your skin beautifully.”
“You sure it’s not, because it’s a bit tighter below the waist?”
And now hes blushing.
He’ll admit. Whenever you come and visit him during lunch to feed him a home cooked meal he hates to see you go but LOVES to watch you leave.
Especially with that sundress you wear during the spring.
Nanami definitely is another man that will practically BEG for you to sit on his face.
“It’s okay, baby, honest. Use my face.”
“Kentoooo—!??”
One of his favorite ways to eat you out is like this. It was actually so embarrassing for you at first only because of his SLUTTY MOANS. Which was something you wouldn’t expect from a man like him, but you wasn’t complaining!He whined and whimpered so shamelessly inside you, you couldn’t even make eyes contact after cumming on his tongue.
Choso
Lord bless him.
He is very….confused to say the least.
He never understood the attraction of women’s parts.
Of course he found YOU attractive, but that was all over until he seen your shape.
“Oh.”
“…oh?”
“You—“
You usually wore baggy clothing like him. You decided to change really quickly at his new apartment and he was watching you.
Who knew you had a BODY LIKE THAT under all of those clothes!
“You’re sex—cute…”
Choso isn’t necessarily a shy man, but more hesitant when it comes to touching and complimenting you…
You’ve told him time and time again he is free to touch you when he wants but you sometimes have to guide him.
Usually when he wants to grab your ass he walks DANGEROUSLY close behind you.
So a few times you take his hand and place it on your cheek. For a moment he just rubs his hand across the soft skin and then SQUEEZE.
Choso loves to kneed and rub on your ass while he licks you so usually it’s 69 or you laid to your side.
Another things he actually loves seeing you in are sweats with a small top. Your lower body being heavier than the top is so attractive and you look so squeezable he can’t help but to hug you from behind
Please. Please PUH LEASE wear thigh high socks around him the ones that go RIGHT UNDER the cup of your ass and shake it JUST A LIL in front of him.
Moans at the sight everytime
No like literally MOANS by just looking at your ass jiggle.
He doesn’t think he’s a pervert but from how he grinds and hump against your ass while you sleep says otherwise.
If yall are wondering why I didn’t really speak on backshots it js because ALL OF THEM GO FERAL DOING IT.
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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months
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How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)
Dick: he’s insulted.
Gutted.
He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.
‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’
He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.
He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.
Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)
Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.
It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.
He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.
Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)
Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀
When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.
You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment’ was exactly.
Damian:
As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.
Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.
So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.
‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.
Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.
So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.
He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.
He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.
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saetoru · 1 year
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what’s mine is yours
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synopsis. suguru is a good best friend—he shares everything. just this once, he shares you too
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word count. 2.1k (it's short i promise)
contents. fem! reader, reader is suguru's girlfriend, minors do not interact, virgin satoru <3, cuckolding, fingering, safe sex (who am i ?? jk suguru would not let satoru hit raw lol), petnames (princess, baby, and sweetheart), suguru teaching satoru how to fuck <3
notes. dash pls look away. i am horny at 1 am
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satoru, for all his big talk and loud front all these years, is still a virgin. suguru finds it a tad bit funny—but out of the kindness of his heart, he decides to help his best friend change that.
how? you, of course.
“be careful how you handle her,” suguru says with a sly smile, “she’s still my girlfriend—and i have to take care of her. isn’t that right, baby?” his gaze turns to you, finger stroking your cheek gently as you whimper.
“so wet,” satoru mumbles, fingers sinking curiously into your dripping cunt, flexing slowly to pump in and out of you as you whine. his fingers are long, maybe longer than suguru’s—but not nearly as skilled.
“yeah?” suguru chuckles, “bet you like that, huh? careful though, satoru—don’t get used to this. she’s still mine.”
suguru, the ever gracious best friend, has always been one to share. he decides perhaps he can extend the favor to include his girlfriend too—but you’re precious, sweet and kind and oh so doting. he can’t share you permanently. no, it’s a one time thing—after that, satoru will have to find his own perfect little pussy to savor.
“you really get all of this? all to yourself?” satoru marvels, thumbing your clit as you gasp, your hand reaching over to clutch at suguru’s pants. his hand rests over yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he hums soothingly.
“yeah,” your boyfriend grins, “every day. whenever i want. right, baby?”
“uh huh,” you nod—and then you cut yourself off with a squeal when satoru’s fingertips brush against that sweet spot deep within your walls, making you flutter around him with a tight squeeze. he doesn’t find it as easily as suguru, doesn’t know how to angle and curl the tips of his fingers when he sinks into you.
and fuck, satoru thinks, suguru is so damn lucky.
“she’s a vocal one,” he chuckles, “you’ve been living the dream.”
“you should hear her when you use your mouth,” suguru chuckles—how embarrassing. you want to crawl onto his lap and hide away in his neck, hide away from satoru’s eyes that are watching you so carefully. satoru has good eyes—the best, even.
but you also like it. for some reason, when his eyes stare down at you with a darkened shade of blue you’ve never seen before, you feel the slick pooling from your core, smearing down your thighs and glossing over his fingers, wetter than ever.
satoru has that effect on people—even if he is a bit inexperienced.
“do i get to do that too?” he asks, sending your boyfriend a lopsided smirk.
suguru raises a brow, tightening his hand’s grip on yours before grunting a low, “don’t get ahead of yourself, satoru.”
“you said it yourself, suguru,” he chuckles, “what’s mine is yours.”
“not her,” suguru growls. and then, sweetly, he turns to you before pecking your forehead with a gentleness he keeps for only you. “you ready, princess?”
“princess,” satoru repeats thoughtfully, “yeah i guess you’re a bit of a princess, aren’t ya?”
“p-please,” you sniffle, tugging on suguru’s wrist, “need more, sugu.”
“yeah? he’s not doing his job, is he?” suguru pouts in sympathy, but his eyes are laced with amusement—like he’s enjoying the show in front of him. you’re sure he is, if the throbbing erection he sports is of any hint.
“hey,” satoru gasps, wounded, “i’m doing exactly what you told me—”
“here,” suguru throws him a condom, cutting him off, “put that on. you’re out of your mind if you think you’re feeling her. that’s only for me.”
“fine,” satoru huffs. you watch as he rolls the condom over his neglected cock—it’s red, swollen and aching, flushed at the tip and drooling with pre cum as he hisses when his hand wraps around it.
it’s pretty, you’ll give him that. satoru isn’t as thick as suguru, but he makes up for it by being a bit longer. he curves a bit with a thick vein running along the underside of his cock, balls heavy as they hang painfully, achingly full. he’s neatly trimmed—messy white strands of hair unlike suguru’s dark ones. you don’t know which one you prefer, if you could even pick one of you had to.
you watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his mouth parts with a low gasp when he accidentally teases the tip a bit as he clumsily works the rubber over himself. he’s sensitive at the head—just like suguru. gives those sweet little breathy whimpers when his slit is thumbed at. it’s cute, you think, maybe not as cute as suguru—but it’s still pretty adorable.
“go slow when you go in,” suguru warns, “if you hurt her, i’ll kill you.”
“she’s tough, she can take it,” satoru pats your cheek with a sly grin, “aren’t you, princess?”
“watch it, satoru,” you hear suguru growl, “don’t get too comfortable.”
“aw, it’s all in good fun, right? she’s taking it so well.”
you do take it well—you let satoru’s fingers play with your for ages, let him learn where to find that sensitive spot is in the back of your walls, let him rub your clit slowly—even if you ache for those fast circles suguru always gifts you with. and now, you’re even letting him slide into you, slowly but surely, inching his hardened cock into your impatiently wet cunt with agonizing patience.
“that feel good, baby?” suguru asks you once satoru’s buried to the hilt, splitting you almost in two as you breathe unevenly and nod. and satoru? well, he’s not faring any better—grit teeth and clenched jaw, panting harshly as he focuses on not cumming right then and there.
you’re tight—way tighter than his hand, and way warmer too. fuck suguru for making him wear the condom, and fuck suguru for landing such a perfect pussy too. he doesn’t know how he’s meant to go back to using his fist after a taste of this.
“you can move now—go slow at first, and then go faster when she’s close. she likes that. and don’t forget this,” suguru’s hand travels to your clit, giving a soft little pat that makes you whimper before he rubs it with those quick circles you love so much. “she likes when you touch this too. they all do—so when you get yourself your own girl to fuck, make sure you remember that.”
“i know what the clit is,” satoru grumbles, “i’ve watched porn, y’know.”
“i bet,” suguru chuckles, “is this your first time seeing a clit in person? pretty, isn’t it? everything about her is pretty.”
“suguru,” you whine in embarrassment, burying your head back into the pillow as much as you can, “you talk so much.”
“baby,” he insists, “someone has to humble him. he’s all bark and no bite.”
“i can too bite,” satoru grunts—and to prove it, he angles his hips to pull out, almost completely, before thrusting back into you. you cry out—clutching suguru’s hand tightly as your tits bounce. satoru let’s out a choked moan, gasping as you squeeze around his sensitive cock, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure.
it’s so good. suguru has it so good. you’re so good—perfect, even.
“f-fuck, more, need more,” you sob, and because suguru can’t help himself, his hand grabs at your tit, pinching and tugging at your nipple as he lets you squeeze his other hand in yours. “please, please—faster.”
“you heard her,” suguru hums, “she needs it faster.”
satoru’s good at fucking you—for his first time, he’s got your back arching and toes curling rather quickly. the blunt head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot with ease, long and curved enough to nudge against it with every roll of his hips. of course, no one knows how to fuck you until you see stars like suguru—but he comes to a close second.
your gasps have turned into long, wanton moans, and satoru moans in sync, head falling next to yours on the pillow as his breath fans over your shoulder with every harsh pant. his hips are rutting into you, slamming desperately as he feels you squeeze around him with every deep thrust. you can hear the squelching sound of your arousal as he bullies into your dripping cunt, smeared along the insides of your thighs. it’s messy, it’s rushed, it’s desperate and it feels so, so good.
satoru has never felt this good—and you? well….you have to admit you’ve never felt like this before either. it’s new, maybe not better, but certainly not worse.
“oh, fuck,” satoru groans, voice cracking as he whines against your shoulder, “f-fuck your so tight—‘s so good. so, so good….’m not g-gonna last much longer.”
“are you close, baby?” suguru strokes your cheek, watching as your eyes squeeze and your face twists in pleasure, “can’t have him be the only one cumming. that’s no good.”
“close! ‘m…’m so close, sugu. gonna cum,” you gasp as you nod.
if satoru wasn’t so lost on the feeling of your tight walls constricting around him, fluttering so perfectly that he almost feels like he can’t move, he might have protested that you addressed suguru and not him—he’s the one fucking you after all. it should be him you’re telling that you’re close, not your boyfriend. just because suguru is your boyfriend doesn’t mean he’s the one who gets to bear the reward for making you cum.
right now, that’s satoru.
“aw c’mon, sweetheart, you’re gonna—o-oh, shit,” he cuts himself off with a breathy moan, “you’re gonna make me cry. say my name too, yeah?”
“satoru,” suguru warns lowly.
“see? jus’ like that. yeah, pretty? say it just how suguru did,” satoru, murmurs against your ear, biting your earlobe softly.
your hand, much to suguru’s dismay, tugs from his grasp so your arms can wrap around satoru’s neck and cling to his large figure as he towers over you, fucking you mercilessly. his pace is frenzied now—that steady ache building up in his throbbing length is about to burst, and that coil in your belly feels like it’ll snap any second too.
“s-satoru, please—‘m c-close, so close,” you mewl, “wanna cum.”
he grins, blue eyes raking over your body as his thumb finds your clit and rubs harshly over it in that way you’ve been craving.
“yeah? you close, pretty? ‘s good to hear. i am too,” he murmurs lowly, finishing the sentence off with a shaky gasp as you squeeze around him.
and then you fall over the edge—he sends you hurtling into your high before you can ever register it. it’s new, satoru thinks—it makes his hips stutter for a second when he feels you spasm around his cock like that, sucking him in and squeezing around him enough that he chokes on a whimper and cums right then and there too. he thinks it’s a miracle he held out just long enough to cum after you, thanking anyone who’s listened to his prayers of lasting. it’s almost impossible not to finish immediately with how your walls hug around his length.
by now, his hips have lost any rhythm they might’ve had before, sloppily rutting into you as he desperately rides out his orgasm, thick ropes of cum spilling into the condom that separates him from fully feeling your warmth. he’s sensitive—his cock is throbbing even as he lets go of that built up tension in the form of white, hot release. you milk him until he’s almost certain he’s got nothing left to give, dry and worn out from the way you pulse so harshly around him.
“so good—m-make me feel so good,” satoru breathes in wonder as he finishes, thumb slowing itself along your clit before his body slumps over yours.
it’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s a mess of limbs as he rests over you, still quivering over your body from the aftershocks of his orgasm. it’s earth shattering—how you make him feel. has he really been missing out on this all this time?
“you’re heavy,” you grumble, patting at his shoulder. he chuckles into your neck, catching his breath.
“yeah? heavier than suguru?”
“i’m careful enough to collapse next to her,” suguru mutters from the side.
“fuck, that was amazing,” satoru rolls over, sprawling himself on the mattress next to you, chest heaving as he breathes, “i see why suguru spoils you so much. you keep him happy, huh?”
“oh yes,” suguru drawls, eyes narrowing. gently, he grabs your wrist and tugs at you, making you sit up as you eye the bulge in his pants and the large wet spot of pre cum staining the fabric. “you’ll see just how happy she makes me in a second here—she’s good with her mouth too.”
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idk what possessed me to write this i rly don't. all i know is i want them both carnally
NO PART TWO — please STOP commenting that
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valleyofheartz · 6 months
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Beginning of the End
pairing: Suna Rintarou x F!Reader
angst to fluff
WC: 3.1k
synopsis: when Suna begins to spend more time with his close friends, including his new sickeningly sweet manager, you start to wonder if you’re not as important to him as you thought.
content/warnings: neglect, mentions of beating up (no one gets beat up), jealousy, insecurity, no use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything!
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you make your way towards the gymnasium with a giddy smile as you hum the lyrics to Apple Cider. it’s a boring Thursday afternoon, and while you had the option of going home immediately, you figured you’d stop by Rintarou’s volleyball practice. after all, you’d baked some brownies and thought it would be a fun surprise for the boys.
you peek your head through the door to ensure no volleyballs are going to attack you, before slipping in and running towards the benches. you notice Suna spot you with his intense stare, and you give him a smile paired with a wave in response. he waves back before focusing on the rest of his practice.
you manage to get some work done throughout the hour, not disturbing the team as you know how serious the sport is to them. by the time you’ve finished your homework, they’ve begun to pack up and head to the locker room.
Atsumu, however, wipes his sweat with a towel before walking towards you.
“Hey, [Name], how are ya doin'?” he asks you with a crooked grin.
you finish zipping up your backpack before looking up, “I’m doing okay! Just waiting for Rin.”
he nods understandingly as the rest of the boys walk out, dressed in fresh clothes and looking much less… stinky. Rintarou eyes you and Atsumu as he lazily stalks over, draping an arm over you and pulling you close.
he bends down and kisses your temple, “Hey, baby. What’re you doing here?”
you pause, looking up at him unsure as you are aware of the presence of his team members. “I was waiting for you. I was thinking we could go back home together and watch a movie?”
he lifts his arm to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, today the team is going out for dinner. Maybe tomorrow?”
you ignore the pinch in your heart at the lack of an invitation, but you justify it as it is a team dinner. and make no mistake, no matter how close you were, you were not part of his team.
“Oh, okay.” you murmur with an awkward smile. you look towards Osamu who stands off to the side, “Hey, ‘Samu, I made my brownies again since you all loved them so much. Here.”
you reach out to give them to him as he rips open the lid and stares at it with heart-eyes. he looks back to you, “Thank ya so much [Name], ya sure ya don’t wanna dump Sunarin for me? I could eat these for the rest of ma life.”
Suna immediately wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you into his chest as he glowers at Osamu. you giggle as Osamu merely raises his hands in mock surrender. the rest of the team digs in, including Atsumu who you notice still hasn’t changed. but that was none of your business.
what was your business, was the pouty messy haired boy in front of you who looked like a sad puppy.
“Hey. Where’s mine?”
you smile fondly, before unzipping your backpack and pulling out a neatly wrapped bag of brownies. they were decorated with caramel drizzle and mini sprinkle hearts.
Suna lights up at the sight, gently grabbing it from your hand and kissing the side of your face. “Thanks.” he whispers, causing you to shiver at the low tone.
“Should you all be eating brownies when nationals is just around the corner? I thought you’d be more strict about this, Kita-san.” a gentle voice comes from behind. you look over and find their manager, Akira, as she frowns at the team.
Kita looks thoroughly scolded as he stares at the brownie in his hand, his cheeks puffed out as he stops chewing.
your brows furrow as you notice everyone stop eating. you force a smile, “I thought it would be fine since it’s been months since I gave it to them.”
Atsumu nods as he finishes chewing, licking his fingers once he’s done. “Yeah, don’t worry about it Akira, yer new so ya don’t know this, but [Name] always bakes for us. It doesn’t hurt to have somethin’ sweet once in a while.”
she sighs, a dimpled smile coming onto her face, “I suppose you’re right, Atsumu. Well, when are we leaving?”
your face drops at the we. who is we, you begin to wonder. the team? her? everyone here but you? you clench your fist as you inhale quietly. you turn to Suna with a smile.
“I’m gonna head home before it gets darker, have fun at your dinner.” you kiss his cheek before placing your bag over your shoulder and leaving, uncaring of the fact that your exit was not the nicest.
perhaps this was the beginning of the end of your and Suna’s relationship. looking back, you should’ve noticed something was wrong. but what were you to do, other than ride the catastrophic wave as a rookie surfer.
things began to go downhill from there. slowly, but surely, you were losing Rintarou. it went from team dinners, to team hangouts, to spending lunch breaks with the team. it was the team, team, team, and team. and a quick glance at Atsumu’s Instagram let you know that Akira was included in every team plan.
that didn’t mean you didn’t try. because if there’s anything you ever did, it was try your best.
“Hey, Rin! Let’s get dinner on Saturday?”
he looks at you with a guilty smile, kissing your lips gently. you part, dazed, but he lets you down with his next words. “Sorry, team dinner again. Maybe next week?”
-
“Rinnie, was thinking of seeing the new Barbie movie with you. Wanna go on Friday?” you ask with hopeful eyes. the Barbie movie was gaining so much popularity lately, it was hard to go about your days without seeing spoilers.
he pauses, before running a hand through his messy dark hair, “Sorry, babe. The team already asked me to go with them. I can rewatch it with you some other time though?”
“No need,” you shake your head with a wry smile.
“Have fun, Rin.”
you end up going to the theatres alone and shoving popcorn in your mouth every time the couples next to you giggle.
the last straw was when he flaked on your usual Thursday lunch break meetup. the two of you would sit on the rooftop together and enjoy picking at each others food. it would often end in you being cuddled into his chest, enjoying the soft kisses down your neck.
the past few weeks, he hadn’t been present at all. he was physically there, but his mind was somewhere else. he’d be on his phone texting the team group chat you were obviously not in, and it was getting ridiculous. so when he fails to show up this week, you begin to wonder how much more of this you’ll put up with.
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he doesn’t text you back for the rest of the day, and while you wish you could say you were angry, you were more so disappointed. was expecting him to prioritize you asking for too much? was it unreasonable to want to be chosen first? was love meant to hurt this much?
you make your way to the gymnasium once again after class. your face that once held a happy smile is replaced with a blank look, as you are unable to force yourself to look something you do not feel.
you walk in without a care of the volleyballs being thrown across the room, but you stop when you spot Akira, dimpled brown-haired Akira, who is in your Rintarou’s sweater. the sleeves fall below her hands, and the sweater paws look horrifically adorable. she smiles as she talks with the team, handing their water bottles to them. you wonder if you are imagining the glint in her eyes as she hands Rintarou his, their fingers brushing lightly as she gives it to him.
“[Name]!” a loud voice calls. it snaps you out of your daze, but you wish it hadn’t. tears begin to build in your eyes, so you turn around and walk out. you quickly wipe them away, thankful that your eyes don’t get red easily as you continue walking.
but then you hear footsteps. someone’s running towards you. you know it’s Rintarou, but you can’t face him right now. you speed up your steps, but he catches up with you in no time and softly grabs your wrist, pulling you into his chest.
you rip your arm out harshly, frowning up at him.
he exhales, out of breath from practice and running. “Baby, what’s wrong? Why did you leave?”
he pauses, “Why do you look so upset?”
he moves closer to grab your face in his hands, but you take a step back, needing the space.
“Why… Why was she in your sweater, Rintarou?”
he frowns, eyes looking around as his mind scrambles to understand you. “Who? You mean Akira? She wasn’t feeling well during lunch so I gave her my sweater.”
your heart drops. so while you were waiting for him alone at the rooftop he was with her? your face twists; you aren’t sure what kind of expression you’re showing, but it must annoy Suna, as he scoffs quietly, sliding a hand over his face.
“You’re not upset over that, are you? Because I don’t remember you being so possessive like that.”
you bark out a sarcastic laugh, looking at him as you tilt your head, “Possessive? More like I’m fucking normal, Rintarou. With the way you’ve been neglecting me lately, this is just the cherry on top.”
you shake your head, ignoring his concerned eyes. “Go back to practice, Suna. I’m going home.”
you turn around, fully expecting to be pulled back, but nothing happens. you continue to walk, letting out a shaky exhale as you place your headphones on. tears slip out of your eyes as your vision begins to blur. you blink harshly, wondering why every situation seemed to leave you utterly alone.
“She said something about Akira being in my sweater.” Suna dries his hair messily with the towel in his hands before leaving it draped on his neck.
Osamu shrugs, “Well, that’s a valid reason to be uncomfortable in my opinion.”
Aran nods in agreement beside him. “Yeah, you considered that maybe you pushed a boundary of hers?”
Suna frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face. his chest aches. he hates not being on good terms with you.
Atsumu comes out from the showers, stretching his arms as he yawns.
“How was yer lunch with her today? Did she seem upset earlier?”
Suna pauses at Atsumu’s words.
Lunch?
Today was…Thursday.
he stands, scrambling as he rummages through his bag for his phone. he quickly opens your contact and looks at your texts. he sighs with a heavy heart at what he sees. why didn’t he get your texts?
he checks to the settings, finding that he had your contact muted. he knows he could have never done that, so he traces his memory back to whoever had his phone. the only time he left his phone alone today was when he was with Akira in the nurses room.
putting the pieces together, he shuts off his phone and tosses it back into his bag.
“Fuck.”
-
Suna looks for you on Friday, but you manage to slip away every time he got close. he sat in your usual seat in class, only for you to sit up at the front close to the door. when class was over, you quickly packed your bags and was out before he could blink.
when he looked for you at lunch, he found you surrounded by your friends. you must’ve told them something, because the moment they saw him they glared before huddling closer to you as if to protect you. he rolls his eyes at the thought but is happy you have such caring friends.
he waits by your locker after school, crossing his arms and leaning on the cool metal. he has practice, but he has priorities. and perhaps he neglected you for the past three weeks, but he knows he can fix this. he can be better.
but when you don’t show up, he wonders what the point of being better is if you’re not there.
his eyes trace the lines in the concrete as he walks towards the gym. the rest of practice he’s off his game, with sloppy spikes and weak serves. sure, he gets told off by Kita but it’s not as bad as the pain of potentially losing you.
Akira walks up to him after practice. she taps his shoulder. “Hey, Suna. I was wondering if you wanted to visit the Illusion Cafe with me this weekend? I know you love sweets and I heard lots of good things!” she smiles sweetly, but all Suna can focus on is the sweater she is wearing. it’s his.
more importantly, it’s yours.
he frowns, “No. I’m gonna spend that time with my girlfriend.”
Akira’s expression drops into a slight scowl. his eyebrow twitches at the mere sight. why would she be angry that he’s spending time with his girlfriend?
“Oh…Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” she says with a tight lipped smile.
he looks back at the sweater before glancing at her face. “I won’t. Also, I’d like my sweater back sometime soon, thanks.”
her face reddens at his comment. she nods, embarrassed, before scurrying away.
Suna sighs, walking to the locker room and wondering how he was gonna get you to talk to him.
-
the team walks out of the gym, with Suna tuning their mindless rambling out. he stretches, finding his eyes seem heavier than usual. he hadn’t slept well last night, unused to you being angry with him that it left him so unsettled he couldn’t sleep.
“Oh, looks like the basketball team is also going home.”
it’s something insignificant. something Suna thought he’d look over at and forget the next second. but then he sees you.
you, with your arm wrapped around another guy’s arm. he’s tall, taller than Suna. muscular too, and his dark blue hair is captivating. Suna stops walking, causing the rest of the team to take a second glance at what he is looking at.
“Holy shit, is that [Name]? What’s she doin’ with those scrubs?” he distantly hears Atsumu say, but all is on his mind is he needs to get you away from that guy now. away from him and into his arms.
you’re laughing, happy for the first time in three weeks until you hear the rushed footsteps that are approaching you.
“[Name], let’s talk.” Suna demands. unfortunately for him, you’re not in the mood to talk anymore.
you unwrap your arm, looking at Suna directly. “No thanks. Maybe next time.” you quote his favourite line he’d used on you countless times recently. it seems he realizes, as his face crumples.
“Who’s this dolt?” the tall blue haired man asks, and Suna’s eyebrow twitches in irritation. who does this guy think he is?
you sigh, “Sorry, Aomine. This is my…boyfriend.”
Aomine’s brows raise. “Ah, my bad. Didn’t mean to get in the way.”
you shake your head, ignoring the other basketball members who surround you. “You’re not in the way, let’s go home, please.”
Suna walks in front of you, stopping you from moving. you exhale, exhausted from the long three weeks and wanting nothing more than to be in your bed.
“You want me to deal with him, [Name]?” Kagami asks from the side, sliding his sleeves up as Suna’s eyes widen.
a new voice comes from behind Suna, “Deal with him? Yer gonna havta deal with us too then.” Atsumu stands in front of Suna, eyes blazing with confidence. even Kita stands off to the side, seemingly ready to physically intervene. you want to laugh at the scene.
you shake your head at the almost comedic situation in front of you, before clapping your hands loudly. “Okay! That’s enough. Volleyball kids, go on your way. Basketball kids, also go on your way. Suna and I will talk as he walks me home.”
Suna’s eyes light up at your words, but you ignore his gaze. he wasn’t forgiven quite yet.
the rest of them begin to make their way out of the school grounds, except for Suna and Aomine. Aomine looks down at you, bending to your height, “You sure you don’t need me to do anything?”
you smile at his overprotectiveness, “No thanks, I got this. Thank you though, really.” he smiles and ruffles your hair, letting out a small ‘oof’ as you hug him tightly.
Suna stands off to the side, silently seething yet knowing he has no place to tell you what to do, especially not now.
Aomine leaves soon after, with a soft wave and a promise to beat Suna up if he tries anything funny. you glance at Suna who looks unsure and out of place.
“Let’s go?” you don’t wait for an answer and begin walking. you hear soft shuffling as he walks beside you and takes small glances that he thinks are discreet.
you arrive at a park near your house. you take a seat on the swings, Suna carefully doing the same. you wait for him to speak, as you’re all out of love and words to give at the moment.
“So… I think- No I know, I need to start this off by saying I’m sorry.” he stands, moving to position himself in front of you. he bends down, crouching to meet your gaze.
“I was very neglectful these last few weeks. I have no excuse, and I know I’ve hurt you.”
he slowly moves to grab your hand; you allow him, as he brings your limp hand to kiss the back. “I want you to know I made it clear to Akira that you’re my number one. You’re the one I always want, no matter what. I can’t even believe my dumbass made you doubt that.”
he shakes your head, looking down before glancing up. you notice tears building in his lash-line, causing you to sit up in alarm.
“I am seriously so fucking sorry for missing our lunch dates, dinners, and for giving her my sweater.”
you grab his face gently, wiping your thumbs beneath his eyes.
“I’ll burn the sweater, I swear.”
you roll your eyes, squishing his cheeks gently.
he grabs your arms, kissing your inner wrists softly as he looks up at you. “Will you give me a second chance? I promise I won’t fumble.”
the sweet moment is broken, then, as you scoff out a laugh. “You’re not going to fumble me, Rintarou.”
he smiles, cat-like eyes with a lazy grin. “Damn right. Gotta treat you like the princess you are.”
you pout, “Not a queen?”
he laughs, a deep raspy sound. he stands up and tilts his head down to kiss your nose.
“Princess, queen, anything. So long as you’re mine.”
EXTRA:
"So, who was that asshole earlier?"
you shove his shoulder gently, "He's not an asshole! He's my friend. Didn't you know I'm friends with the basketball team? I used to be their manager."
Rintarou scoffs, "Yeah, I knew that, just didn't know those guys were so close to my girl."
you look at him with a blank face.
"Right, and I was the one who was possessive. Sure."
he whines softly, low in his throat as he moves his face into your neck, "I said I was sorry!"
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a/n: suna brainrot😵‍💫
4K notes · View notes
aeyumicore · 7 months
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what's mine
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━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: zayne x female reader (afab)
━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with plot, not canon events (completely fictional)
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 10.7k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, first time sex with zayne (not virginity loss), jealous!zayne, dom!zayne, zayne slightly loses control of evol, furniture breaks, lot’s of teasing, fictional characters, size kink, vaginal sex, oral sex f!receiving, tongue fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, slightly drunk sex (not really), tummy bulge, posessive/claiming behavior, let me know if i missed anything!
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: ao3
━ ✧.˖ A/N: helloooo writing for my fav zayne again <3 would you guys believe this is actually the first lads fic i ever started but i put it on hold because it was way too elaborate and i didn’t want to make a whole like multi chapter fic? i actually cut out a lotttt of it, it probably would’ve been more like 30k words if i kept the same writing style/detail i had originally, and i just could not do that to myself
also the matthew/intern mentioned in the fic is completely made up and fictional, he is not a reference to any characters! i couldn’t bring myself to use greyson for the purposes of the plot bc i think he and zayne are so cute LOL god i love the jealous angsty feelings trope 
pls enjoy hehe i luv u guys <3 also come interact with me on twit @/aeyumicore :’)
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖
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"Will you go to dinner with me?”
You whip your head around to see where the unfamiliar voice came from, coming face to face with one of the surgical interns of the Akso hospital. You’d run into him several times before when visiting Zayne at work, but never quite got his name.
"Me?” 
The intern chuckles at your dumbfoundedness, which he thinks is adorable, "Yes, you’re Y/N right? My name is Matthew. I'm one of the surgical interns here. So, will you let me take you to dinner tomorrow?”
Zayne chokes on his rice from the seat beside you, patting his chest a few times to clear his throat. You’d decided to have lunch with Zayne after your check-up today; well more like you’d forced him to the cafeteria with you against his will. You’d desperately wanted to try the infamous mint chocolate chip jello the hospital cafeteria served, even though you knew it’d be disgusting. And so you both sat at a table in the cafeteria, you with your jello and Zayne with a homemade bento box you’d made for him, along with some of his favorite pastries from the bakery down the street.
At his coughs, the intern’s eyes snapped to Zayne’s and it was like he’d just then realized Zayne was there, the surprise and anxiety written all over his expression. Zayne was always someone who commanded respect and fear from his colleagues and subordinates, so much so that Matthew had turned pale as a ghost. 
"Oh! Dr. Zayne, I'm so sorry I didn’t realize–” but Zayne cuts him off with a simple wave of his hand. 
"It’s fine. Continue your conversation.” You’re a bit taken back by Zayne’s nonchalance. Sure, you were just childhood friends but it would be nice if Zayne had any reaction at all to being asked out right in front of him. You yourself couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards Zayne but it was seeming more and more that it was completely one sided.
"I, um…” you’re at a loss for words, not knowing how to let the handsome intern down. Matthew was honestly very attractive, and seemed kind enough, but you had hoped to spend your friday night with Zayne, though you hadn’t had the chance to ask him yet. He’d been swamped with surgeries and patients the last few days and you hardly got to see him at all. And you missed him thoroughly.
"I actually had plans with Zay– I mean dr. Zayne,” you glance at Zayne, hoping he’ll get the message, but the expression on his face is dark and unreadable. 
"No we don’t. You should go,” Zayne’s tone is cold and his eyes refuse to meet yours. Despite yourself, your heart clenches in disappointment. You know Zayne could be obtuse but he was also extremely intelligent and perceptive. He undoubtedly knew you wanted to spend your night with him. But it was becoming more and more apparent he did not want to spend his with you.
"But i–”
"I have plans anyways.” Your eyes can’t help but sting as he avoids looking at you. So you try to steel yourself; you were a big girl and a little bit of unrequited affection would not destroy you. Keeping your voice steady and blinking back unshed tears of frustration, you look up at Matthew, his eyes lighting up at you expectantly, and you try to give him your best smile.
"I...I would love to go to dinner with you!”
You don’t notice the deep scowl on Zayne’s face as a dark icy storm brews in his green eyes. 
You stumbled out of the taxi, your way-too-high heels catching on the foot step almost causing you to trip headfirst into the pavement. You sigh as you catch yourself on the cab door and glance at your hunter watch and see that it’s already 1am. 
"Get home safe miss, and no more drinks, you hear me?” Your cab driver reprimands you teasingly.
"Yes sir,” you mock salute him as you wobble onto your feet, thoroughly drunk, "Thank you so much! Please drive safe. Good night sir!”
"Good night miss!” 
You turn towards your apartment building, sighing in exhausted defeat. What an absolute disaster of a night.
The date was unexpectedly wonderful. Matthew was handsome, kind, funny, and a complete gentleman. He brought you to a very fancy and expensive restaurant downtown, so you wore one of your most elegant dresses, not that you had many. It was a simple satin black mid-length evening dress, with a slit that exposed just up to your mid thigh and an open back that accentuates your figure. You’d normally never wear something so sensual on a first date, but you couldn’t deny that the way Zayne had reacted, or not reacted, stung your heart. So maybe you did go a little extra tonight because you were hurt. So what?
After dinner, Matthew and you took a leisurely stroll at linkon park, with enough time to catch the sunset. As you watched the sun melt into the sea of golden yellows and dusky pinks, Matthew kissed you. It was passionate, slow, and soft. The perfect kiss.
Except when you moaned out Zayne’s name. 
And so the night ended as quickly as it began. Matthew was as understanding as he possibly could have been, but you could tell it killed anything that could have happened between the two of you. Matthew was a surgical intern, so with what little free time he had, he said he couldn’t chance it on a girl who was clearly already in love with someone else, especially if that someone was his boss and mentor. He’d offered to give you a ride back home but you refused, saying you’d grab a cab instead.  
So you found yourself at a bar, downing shots of soju to numb the mortification of your blunder but also the feeling of utter patheticness. Hours went by as you wallowed in your emotions. You’d had feelings for Zayne for as long as you could even remember. And still, you couldn’t tell him or move on from him. 
But maybe you would have the guts to tell him if it didn’t feel like he literally could not give two cents about you, beyond as a patient and as his annoying childhood friend. It was literally like pulling teeth to get him to spend any time at all with you lately. 
So here you were, stumbling into your apartment building at 1:37 am: drunk, exhausted, and empty. The night breeze raised goosebumps on your exposed thighs as your heels clicked on the pavement in the dark. 
You headed toward your apartment, through the main entrance and up the lobby elevator, the alcohol still making your brain swim. Luckily you no longer saw double, and your eyelids no longer felt like a ton of bricks.  
The elevator door dinged open and you trudged toward your unit, your toes screaming in protest in the confine of your heels. You forced your vision to cooperate with you as you tried to punch in your door code. The error buzz sounded out, again and again, and you groaned in frustration.
In the blurry edges of your vision, a large and slightly scarred hand reached over yours. Yelping, you whip yourself around and reach to grab the gun you always had strapped to your thigh. But from the icy cold touch against your fingers and the scars littering the pink skin, you realize exactly who it was.
"Zayne?” You did your best not to slur, trapped between him and your front door. You don’t miss how he swears under his breath as his eyes trail down your body, lingering at all your exposed skin, before snapping back up to your face. You can’t even imagine how wrecked you must look right now, mentally kicking yourself for not touching up after the bar. Your gloss was undoubtedly smeared from the kiss and the copious alcohol, your hair a bird’s nest from the night breeze, and your mascara smeared from the stray tears of your drunken emotions.
You didn’t do a very good job at steeling your voice because Zayne saw right through you, his eyes narrowing as they absolutely drank you in, "You’re drunk?” His voice holds a dangerous edge, as if mad that you’d have the audacity to be drunk. He deftly types your access code in, and gently ushers you into your apartment. You stumble in your heels against his body, and Zayne wraps his arm around your waist to catch you before you fall. You flush at the way his hands palm the exposed skin of your lower back. 
"M’not drunk,” you protest, swatting his hand away, not wanting your body to give any of your feelings towards him away, but Zayne only grips you tighter, fingers flitting between the soft satin material of your dress and the goosebump ridden skin of your back. His arm on your waist feels so right, threatening to make you melt right into his embrace. But you fight the urge, trying to hold onto your annoyance.
You can’t see his eyes but you know they’re rolling in their sockets at your obvious drunkeness. He gently guides you through the threshold of your home and then kneels down before you. The sight of him on the floor in front of your feet makes you reel, hoping the furious blush is masked by the flush of alcohol in your blood.
"W-what are you doing?” You try to step back, but your knees wobble and Zayne grips your thigh in place. You shiver at his cold touch on your sensitive skin, a little too high for you to keep any semblance of calm.
"Do you want to stay in these deathtraps?” He murmurs as he starts to slip the strappy heels off of your aching feet. His fingers around your ankle tingle as he softly massages the red skin of where the straps dug in.
"Zayne? Why are you here? Did something happen?” Your voice wavers still, but Zayne’s cold touch is starting to sober you up and clear your vision as your mind tries its best to focus on him. Zayne doesn’t respond as he lifts your other foot and slips the other heel off. His fingers linger on your bare legs before he slips your house slippers on your feet, standing back up to tower over you. 
"It’s almost 2 in the morning, and you’re just now coming home,” his voice is hard and stern, it’s clear he has things he wants to say but you’re in no mood for a lecture on sexual safety, stds, and stranger danger. 
"I was busy,” you snap, your emotions running extra high from everything that had happened today, especially Zayne’s nonchalance. But he’s incredibly patient with you, as he always is, taking you by the waist nagain and leading you to your living room couch. You’re too tired to resist, and you desperately need to get off your aching feet.
"How was your date?” Zayne sits you on your couch and then heads to the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water. His question reminds you of how royally you screwed up today and your mood sours even more. 
"Fine,” you mutter, trying to keep from snapping at him again. Zayne sits beside you and brings the glass of water to your lips, tilting it for you with his fingers on your jaw. You take deep gulps, the cold water soothing your entire sore body. Sinking further into the couch, your mind wanders back to your disastrous screw up. You’d called Matthew Zayne. It literally couldn’t get more mortifying than that.
Zayne stares at you and you know he doesn’t believe you, so you murmur again, "It was fine.” But as his intense eyes bore holes into you, your voice cracks under all the feelings you’d stuffed deep down today. 
He was here now and it confused you to no end. You’d wanted nothing more than to spend your day with him, but he’d pushed you away. Were you really that blind that you’d developed feelings for a man who did not feel even slightly the same way? 
Your eyes well up with tears at the thought and you try to subtly brush them away by pretending to scratch your cheek, but as always Zayne sees right through you. 
"Did he do something to you? Did he get you drunk?” Zayne’s voice is calm but hard and threatening.enough to scare you if it weren't for the way he softly gripped your chin, forcing your eyes back to his, using his free thumb to catch the tears before they can slip down your cheek
But through it all, you register the implication of his words. "Wh-what? No!” You exclaim, "Matthew was a complete gentleman.”
His eyes track yours, unwilling to let go of your gaze, "Then why are you crying?” 
You blink back your tears before more can fall onto his thumb. Your voice wavers as you stare into the hazel green ocean of his eyes, and you answer his question with a question of your own, "Why are you here Zayne?” 
"I wanted to make sure you got home safe.” Your chest constricts with unrelenting emotions, but your drunken haze makes you even more steadfast in your stubborn resolve. 
"Well I'm home, safe,” you avert your eyes, knowing if Zayne keeps staring at you with that intensity you’ll start to unravel and confess everything.
"Why did you take a cab home?”
Your eyes snap to his, "How did you know I took a cab?” And this time Zayne’s eyes refuse to meet yours, "Zayne? How long have you been waiting for me?”
Zayne doesn’t respond, instead brushing the tangles out of your hair. You try to get his attention by tugging at his tie, the alcohol making you feel much bolder than you normally ever would. 
You can see his adam's apple bob as he lets himself be drawn in, only slightly, towards you. At your pout, he sighs in defeat, prying your hands away so he can loosen the tightened hold around his neck, "I’ve been waiting for you…forever.” 
Before you can respond, he clears his throat and continues, "I got here at 9 and waited in my car when I knocked and you didn't answer.”
At your bewildered expression, he sighs and elaborates, "I just wanted to see you get back home safely. But when I saw you get out of that cab I needed to come check on you.”
Your brows furrowed as your sobering self tried to do the math in your head. Zayne can practically see the steam coming out of your ears and smiles lopsidedly, chuckling under his breath at how adorable you were being.
"You waited for 7 hours?!” You exclaimed, eyes wide. 
His grin deepens and you can see his eyes sparkling with laughter , "You are drunk. Why are you drunk?”
You purse your lips shut, unwilling to speak. With all the overwhelming emotions swarming your mind, you knew if you started talking now you would surely never stop.
At your silence, Zayne prods gently, "Talk to me, Y/N.” His voice is deep and commanding in a way that almost always gets you to listen to him. 
You zip your lips shut and turn away, doing your damn best to not give in. But Zayne’s touch, still on your cheeks, forces you back towards his eyes.
"Be a good girl,” he demands softly, his eyes searching yours for answers. 
Blowing out your cheeks like a child, you’re unwilling to give up the attitude, "I’m drunk because I was drinking.”
"Did Matthew take advantage of you?” Zayne’s jaw is locked and the intensity in his eyes is blinding, damn near dangerous. 
"No! Zayne, no. I went to a bar to drink alone, after our date,” you try to hide the embarrassment from seeping into your voice.
"Why? Did he do something to you?” His voice is still threatening, and you sigh at the unrelenting questions. You knew Zayne well enough to know he wasn’t going to let up, so it would just be easier on you if you told him everything that happened.
"Matthew was amazing,” you don’t notice the way Zayne’s eyes darken at your praises for the intern, "The date was fantastic. And after, we saw the sunset.” His expression is still unreadable and you start to fidget under his intense gaze, not knowing in the slightest what he was thinking. 
"And then he kissed me. We kissed. And that was it. I went to the bar and he went home. End of story.” 
Zayne’s fists ball so tightly his knuckles turn white, but he keeps his gaze steady. He doesn’t speak, and you’re scared of the tense silence that falls between you two.
"He couldn’t at least accompany you? Make sure you were safe?” You can tell Zayne is angry by the way his feet taps uncharacteristically erratically against the floor, "Driven you home?”
His questions make it impossible for you to forget about your horrifying mistake today and you just feel so incredibly bad for Matthew. The regret and embarrassment gnaw at your mind like parasites. And so against your better, albeit slightly still drunken, judgment, you finally blow.
"He left because I was thinking of you, okay? Matthew was a gentleman, he was funny, kind, and charming. And yet I was thinking of you the whole time. And so he left and I went to a bar and got drunk all on my own, okay?”
"You were thinking of me?” Zayne’s voice is an annoying mix of bewilderment, intrigue, and what sounds like mockery, which just infuriates you.
"I am always thinking of you Zayne! I thought about you at dinner, I thought about you when we watched the sunset, and I thought about you when he kissed me,” you burst, your drunken lack of inhibitions leaving nothing unsaid. 
Zayne’s face is unreadable again, but there’s a heat in his eyes that makes you tremble in your seat, "You were thinking of me when he kissed you?”
Unable to bear his unrelenting repetitive questions anymore, you explode, "Yes Zayne! And when he kissed me I called out for you!” The confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think twice about it. It takes you a second to realize what you’d just blurted out and you bury your face in your hands, wanting nothing more than to scream at the top of your lungs. Unfortunately it was 2am and you had neighbors that most definitely would not appreciate that. 
You feel his strong hands grab your wrists gently, prying your hands away from your face, wanting to see you, "You called for me?” His tone is as amused as it is intrigued and it frustrates you to no end, the shame weighing heavily on your mind. 
"Don’t tease me right now Zayne,“ you warn weakly, "I am always thinking about you. But you…” your voice trails off to a shallow whisper, "You don’t seem to think about me.”
Zayne is silent but his eyes are as intense as you’ve ever seen them, staring into your soul. The silence is thick in the air as you refuse to be the one to break it.
Finally, he speaks, voice clouded with indiscernible emotions, "Is that what you really think? That I don’t think about you?”
"Do you really think I waited for 5 hours, in my car, for you to come back because I don’t think about you?” Your breath catches in your throat at the pure and raw growl in his voice. 
Before you can respond, he continues, "I think about you every second of every day. I thought about you all day, thought about you on your date with Matthew.”
Zayne shifts so that he can cup your face with both his hands, drawing his face closer but not close enough, "I thought about him getting to hear your voice, getting to touch you…to kiss you. It drove me insane.” 
Your feelings churn in your stomach and into your chest, making it hard to breathe. The way Zayne is looking at you, his hands holding your face so possessively, threatens to stop your heart altogether. You’re drawn to him all over again, only this time it feels like he might be drawn to you too.
"W-why?”
Zayne doesn’t speak, and you watch as his eyes flutter to your parted lips as you pant out your breaths, eyes fighting to stay open amidst all the tension enveloping the two of you. 
"Why did you push me to go with him then?”
His eyes force themselves onto yours, as if unwilling to leave your lips, "I made a mistake.” 
His revelations quickly sober you up, and you’re left feeling vulnerable but bold. You softly grab a fist full of his tie, pulling him closer. You can faintly hear him groan under his breath, but he lets himself be guided towards you. Your lips are so close to each other that you’re inhaling each other in, and you beg gently, "Kiss me, Zayne.” 
Zayne wastes no time at all, threading his fingers from your cheek into your hair, pulling your face the remainder of the distance to his own. 
Your first kiss with Zayne is nothing like you’d daydreamed it would be. You’d imagined the patient and reserved surgeon to be soft, gentle, taking his time with you. You’d expected it to be passionate but reserved, like the handsome raven haired man himself. 
And while the passion was undeniably there, what you didn’t expect was the bruising claiming heat that came with it. Zayne’s soft lips marked you as his own, a lifetime’s worth of emotions evident in the way he molded himself against you. With every twitch of his lips, Zayne laid claim to what was his. He kissed you like you might disappear at any moment, as if this was all a dream.
And when his tongue swiped across the parting of your lips, asking for permission to enter, you gladly relented control and authority. After all, you were his. You think you had been for some time.  
You hadn’t expected your first kiss with Zayne to be like this, and yet it was everything you wanted and more.
When you shift yourself to climb on top of him and straddle him on your couch, Zayne reluctantly pulls away, hands still gripping the back of your head, "Y/n, we should stop.” But he can’t stop his hands from leaving your soft hair and resting on your hips, almost like a reflex. His words say one thing but his hands just can't seem to pry themselves off of you.
You’re taken aback by his words, unable to stop the insecurity and hurt that paints your face. Zayne notices instantly, one of his hands leaving your hips to stroke your cheek, hooking some of your hair behind your ear. You lean into his hand, the whiplash starting to exhaust you as much as it kept you on your toes. 
"I want to,” he whispers hoarsely as you squirm on top of him, answering your unsaid thoughts, "I can’t even convey how much I've fucking wanted to. But you’re drunk. And the first time I finally take you...I want you to feel every second of it.” 
Your eyes flutter at his words, stomach clenching in anticipation. Having fully sobered up a while ago, before he even kissed you, you can’t help but beg a little, "I’m not drunk anymore. And even if I was… I want you. I’ve wanted you…forever.” 
Zayne swears, his eyes going full doctor mode, and you can tell he’s inspecting every inch of you to try and discern if you’re truly sober or not. You fidget nervously under his intense stare, to which his hands grip your waist painfully tight to keep you in place.
"Stop,” he grits out forcefully, as if in pain. You do your best to still in his lap, and that’s when you feel the unmistakable bulge of his erection underneath your parted dress that had ridden up to bunch at your hips, right against the pantyhose against your cunt. 
"Are you sure this is what you want?” He groans as your body presses deeper into his lap, "Because once…we start I won’t be able to stop.” 
His words send a shiver down your spine, the heated warning doing nothing but arousing you to your core. Through your hooded eyes, you nod eagerly at him, "M’sure Zayne. Won’t want to stop.” 
He smirks at you, a heart stopping smile that melts your brain and cunt simultaneously into a leaking mess, "You asked for it love.” 
Before you can even have the chance to physically combust at the affectionate pet name, Zayne whisks you into the air, scooping you under your exposed knees effortlessly. You yelp, clutching onto his neck as he carries you like a bride into your bedroom, navigating your apartment like he owned it. He bent down to capture your lips with his again, like he couldn’t physically wait to get you to your bed before claiming you again. 
You feel the cold press of your sheets against your spine as Zayne sets you down gently, and settles in between your thighs on top of you. His eyes absolutely devour you whole, raking up and down your exposed satin clad skin, "You look beautiful. I’ve been wanting to tell you all night.” His praise is throaty with desire and it makes you squeeze your thighs together against his body in anticipation. Your face heats at his words, and you run your palms up and down his abdomen, the material of his dress shirt feeling like silk against your burning skin. 
Zayne grins and chuckles, mostly to himself, but the sound catches your attention and you find yourself pouting in self-consciousness, "What’s funny?”
Zayne’s long fingers trace the outlines of your body under the satin dress, eliciting soft moans from you that please him to his core, "You just look so beautiful.” His fingers reach the bottom of your dress and begin to stroke the fabric of your pantyhose, inching up under your dress, so torturously slowly, "You wore this for him, yet I'm the one that’s going to tear it off you.”
Your body trembles at his words, the pool between your legs growing wetter. You can feel yourself growing impatient, only wanting his body to press onto yours, to suffocate your.
"Zayne please, don’t make me wait any more,” you murmur as you sit up on your elbows, pressing your forehead against his. You heartbeat is quick and your rapid breaths fan across his face. 
His eyes darken at your pleas, the hazel hues appearing almost a light brown, "Fucking hell Y/N, you’re going to drive me insane.” He sits up on his knees, loosening his tie before undoing it completely and discarding it on the floor next to your bed. You bite your lip as you watch him undo the top three buttons of his shirt, his toned chest on display under it. 
Leaning back down, he presses a bruising kiss against your swollen lips. His hands wander to the thin straps of your dress, gently tugging until they slip off your shoulders, letting him tug your dress down until your breasts are exposed. His tongue against yours is unrelenting, marking every inch of your mouth as his.
Detaching himself from you, he buries his face into your neck, his cold lips incredibly soothing against your lust burned skin. You cry out when you feel his teeth softly sink into the skin of your pulsepoint, as he suckles on you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. 
"Zayne,” you gasp out, his tongue and teeth working in tandem to have your mind filled with nothing but his mouth on you, "Please.”
He trails down your neck and collar, inhaling you into his lungs at every opportunity. You feel his smile against your skin as he reaches your breasts, your nipples pebbled from the lust. He voice is muffled against you, "Please what, my love?”
"I…” you’re too mortified to say the things you want him to do, so the silence overtakes you. Unhappy with your hesitation, Zayne bites into the supple flesh above your pert nipple, eliciting a string of moans and squeals from you. He’s instantly using his tongue to soothe the pain away, quickly replacing it with waves of raw pleasure. 
Zayne lifts his head, staring at you expectantly, "I can’t continue if you don’t tell me what you want.”
His unrelenting teasing drives you to the edge of madness, your arousal evident by the way it leaks through your panties and your pantyhose. But you’re stubborn, still refusing to speak. 
"Good girls listen to their doctors don’t they?” He places fleeting kisses onto your goosebump riddled areolas, careful to purposefully neglect your increasingly sensitive nipples.
"Should doctors really be this intimate with their patients?” You retort like a brat, wanting to dish back all of his incessant teasing.  
He smiles at you, thoroughly amused at your insolence, "I suppose not, but am I really just your doctor?” With that he captures your waiting nipples into his mouth. You cry out at the incredible feeling of his cold lips on your breasts but his warm tongue on your nipple, your lower body thrusting up uncontrollably into his crotch. 
He groans into your chest as you brush against his throbbing erection, restricted by the confines of his pants. Against the heat of your womanhood, Zayne hardens impossibly further, feeling like he might actually explode against the constraint. The sounds of your pleasure and your cries for him make it difficult for him to concentrate.
Switching to your other nipple, Zayne uses one hand to undo his belt, letting it fall to the ground with his tie. He undoes the button and zipper his pants, yanking them down with such feral urgency. When his cock was finally free, he broke away from your chest, hissing in relief. You look down and you’re met with the realization of why he was in so much pain. 
Zayne was large. In a way that terrified you to your very core. You could imagine that the restraint of his briefs alone would be uncomfortable, painful even, when holding something like that back. 
Zayne catches your stare and he grips your chin between his fingers, guiding you to his eyes instead, "It’ll fit baby, don’t worry.”
You fight to keep your lip from quivering, trying not to get lost in his green eyes, "Will it?”
"I'll make it fit, but first let me prepare you love,” he says Matter-of-factly, pressing a kiss to the bridge of your nose. The certainty in his voice turns you unbelievably on and you find yourself needing to please him. Your hand seeks out his erection, grasping it firmly into your fingers.
He groans at the slightest touch, knees buckling into the bed beneath you. You start with languid and deliberate strokes, feeling every vein pulse under your fingers. Your thumb finds his large engorged head, already leaking with pre cum, feeling every smooth surface of his cock under your touch. While Zayne writhes on top of you, you revel in his glorious manhood, everything about it utterly perfect and terrifying.
As you touch him, Zayne leans into the crook of your shoulder, laying claim to your sensitive neck. He marks every inch of bare skin he can find, leaving a trail of red and wet bruises in his wake. 
Your entire palm is wet with his leaking arousal, as he moans so closely into your ear. Gently, he pries your palm away from him, sitting back up onto his knees, smirking satisfyingly down at the marks he’d left, "God, I've waited so long to have you.”
You reach down to shimmy out of your pantyhose and black evening dress, leaving you in your black lace thong, naked, willing, and pliant before him. You see him gulp harshly, his eyes hazy with need, and you sit up to level with him, "So take me Zayne.”
A low growl rips from his throat, as he pushes you back onto the bed, setting your head against your wooden headboard. Zayne tortures you, kissing down your collar, your chest, your naval, and finally down the soft mound of your pelvis. 
Zayne seems almost feral as he looks at your lace covered cunt and back up at you, "Did you really wear this for him?”
"N-no,” you whine, "I wouldn't have ever l-let him. He wasn't you.”
Zayne seems somewhat placated by your response, hooking his cold fingers into the waistband, his voice a low grumble, "That’s my good girl. No one will ever see you in or out of these, but me. Right?”
Your brain fogs over as he slips your soaked panties down your legs, his breath hitching seeing the string of clear slick clinging to your cunt. 
"Fuck.” He’s lost in his stares, in absolute awe of the meal before him, carving every single perfect centimeter into his memory. You squirm under his intense stare.
"Zayne please don’t make me wait anymore,” you wine, crying out as he bends down and his lips graze the apex of your slit. 
His voice is incredibly smug, "You are so beautiful when you beg for me.” You sigh in frustration as his lips and fingers continue to just barely graze your needy body. 
"Zayne, please,” your body thrusts into his, but he holds you back down, almost impatiently.
"Behave yourself, Y/N. You can do that for me, can’t you?” His voice is full of command, making you back down instantly, shivering at the suspense of his words.
"I didn't wait this long to have you just to rush all the things I want to do to you,” he all but purrs, as his lips find your soaking slit.
The room is filled with your lewd cries as Zayne’s tongue licks a stripe from your clit to your throbbing hole. As your doctor, Zayne knew the ins and outs of your body but you never expected him to know you like this. Like his tongue was designed for nothing else but to deliver you the most unimaginable pleasure in this world. 
Zayne groans when his tongue enters you for the first time, the quivers resonating straight to your core. His nose brushes against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, the vibrations of his own lust filled grunts bringing you closer to releasing all over his skilled mouth.
Your thighs clench against his face, and you almost worry you might suffocate him. You try to pry them away from him, but he only grips them with his strong hands, bringing them closer to his face, wanting nothing more than to be yours, wholly and irrevocably.
"You taste better than I ever imagined,” he moans out, staring into your eyes from between your legs. You blush at the filth of his words and the glistening slick smeared across his lips and chin.
"Did you – ahh hah – think about me often?” You tease between the sounds that spill out of your mouth uncontrollably.
He doesn’t answer, instead capturing your entire clit into his lips, sucking in earnest. You feel his smirk as you squeal out, hands digging into the fabric of your sheets and tugging hard. His hands knead your ass as he continues to eat, positively starved.
"Z-Zayne I-I can’t take much more,” you slur, your toes curling against his sides as he goes back to spearing his tongue in and out of you, using the tip of his nose to massage your clit, inhaling the smell of your arousal into his lungs.
"Yeah? Is my girl gonna make a mess for me?” He breathes into you, his hands reaching up to toy with your nipples. You cry in response, feeling the coil in your gut tightening beyond belief, the pleasure threatening to make you explode.
"Cum into my mouth love, let me taste you,” he whispers breathlessly into your cunt, slipping his middle finger inside of you, the wet sounds of his skin pounding into yours filling the room. You come done instantly, screaming as your back arches off the bed and you release all over Zayne’s waiting mouth, hands ripping at his soft hair. 
"That’s it baby, look at you cumming from just one finger,” he muses, working you through your orgasm with just his middle finger. You let out a stream of broken moans, unable to form any words.
"Fuck you’re this tight around just one of my fingers?” He murmurs before dipping back down to devour everything you give him. 
He laps up your spend eagerly and diligently, not letting a single drop go to waste. Refusing to relent against your twitching clit, Zayne devours you until the overstimulation lights your pussy on fire. He’s always had a sweet tooth and it looks like he’s found his absolute favorite dessert, unwilling to give it up any time soon.
"Such a messy girl,” he mumbles to himself, the clear strings of arousal sticking from your wet thighs to his chin. 
Your thighs tremble at the discomfort of overstimulation, doing your best to back away from him, "Mmm Zayne, s’too sensitive. No more, please.”
He relents reluctantly, looking utterly displeased with having his treat taken away. As he sits up, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans forward into you, tapping your lips with his thumb.
"Open,” he commands forcefully, bringing his soaked middle finger up to you. You part your lips obediently, welcoming the taste of you on his skin. His eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a deep heated moan at the feel of your tongue on him, tasting everything he got to taste. His cock literally felt like a ton of bricks needing to be pleased. 
Releasing his finger, you reach for his length again, "I-I want to make you feel good too.” 
Zayne presses his cold lips to yours, simultaneously undoing the buttons of his shirt. He pulls aways to shrug the clothing off his broad shoulders, giving you an eyeful of his glorious physique. He shivers, letting you jerk his erection up and down, but pushing you down when you try to get on your knees before him.
"Next time. We have all the time in the world,” he whispers, pushing you against the headboard, holding your cheek in his large hand, "But right now I need to be inside you.”
The smoldering fire in his eyes makes your mouth dry, and you nod meekly. The promise of a ‘next time’ is enough to have you ready for him again. Your cunt still quivered, recovering from your previous orgasm, but pooling at the hoarse need in his tone. 
As your head lays on a pillow against the headboard of your bed, Zayne lifts you from the small of your back and shoves another pillow behind you, so that you’re elevated towards him, served on a silver platter.
"Spread your legs for me,” he growls, the urgency in his voice leaving little room to protest. And so you obey, widening your legs for him, watching as he admires the area between your thighs like it was 
His hand reaches to cup you, clit caught against his palm and fingers toying with your hole, "Who does this belong to?” 
But you can’t hear him through the searing pleasure of his touch against your over sensitive body, the blood pounding in your ears like drums. Looking at where his hand meets your body, you cry out at his ministrations against you, your thighs trembling in shivers. 
With his free hand Zayne grabs your chin, slipping his thumb into your mouth, harshly forcing your eyes to his, "Don’t look away. Be a good girl and answer me.”
Although his words are driven with lust, they remind you of the emotional turmoil you’d been weathering because of your feelings for the man in front of you.
"M’yours Zayne, always been yours,” tears well in your eyes and you hope he can understand the weight behind your words, behind all the lust and arousal filled craze. 
Zayne stares back at you, and his eyes hold an entire galaxy of emotions that match the colors of his irises: desire, devotion, awe…and love. 
"And I am yours,” his words strike your heart and you lean up to slot your mouth against his. As he kisses you, he lines up his thick length with your cunt, teasing your clit with his engorged tip, his pre cum mixing with your spend that still leaked out from your prior climax. You cried into his open mouth at his teases, your back arching off the pillow and further into his cock. At your movement, his head catches onto your throbbing and waiting hole, eliciting a deep grunt from him. 
He pulls away, groaning, "So impatient, you want it that bad?” You whimper, burying your face into his neck and latching onto his pulse point to save yourself from having to answer. 
"P-please…” you whisper into his ear. He groans, fishing through the pocket of his pants as he pulls them off of his legs. 
"Please what, love?” He smirks at you, pulling his wallet out, now just in his briefs pulled down to let his massive erection free. 
You gulp, staring at the way he stands so proudly against his naval, reaching comfortably to his belly button. His girth rivals that of at least three of your fingers.
The rustling of plastic snaps you out of your shameless ogling. Zayne places a condom packet between his teeth, tearing it with one hand. You gulp at the sight of him, but you protest, "I–i um,” you clear your throat, trying to work up the courage to vocalize what you want, "You don’t have to use that.”
Zayne’s dark eyes catch yours, and the edge in his voice is dangerous, a warning, "Don’t tempt me. I need to protect you.”
Your face burns as you try again., "W-what I mean is, well as my doctor you know I'm clean.” You do your best to stop your voice from wavering, "And I-I um I'm on the pill.”
Zayne’s eyebrows quirk as his irises darken with heat, "How come I didn't know that?
"I’ve been using an online service for a few months,” you say sheepishly, "S-so you don’t have to use that.”
Zayne catches on, a satisfied smirk gracing his features, "Is that so?” He teases his entire length on your slit, practically fucking you along the lips of your womanhood. Using his swollen tip, he taps your clit forcefully, eliciting a throaty yelp from you.
"Tell me what you want.” You shiver at the pure feral domineer in his voice.
"P-please Zayne, I want it. I need it.”
"What do you need baby?” 
You groan in frustration, but give into his demands, "I-I need you Zayne, need you inside. Need it so bad.” The way you can see his breath hitch in his throat fills you with confidence, so you lean closer until your bottom lip brushes against his, "Need to feel you inside, please Zayne.”
His jaw locks as he grits out forcefully, "I will give you everything.”
Zayne holds his cock with one hand, lining it up with your entrance. His other hand grips the wooden beams of your bed frame, "Can you take it Y/N?”
If you’re being completely honest, you’re not sure you can. Though you weren’t a virgin, you had never even seen a man so large, let alone attempted. But at Zayne’s expectant expression, you nod eagerly, "Y-yes I can, I-I can try.”
"Good girl,” he mutters, before sinking himself into you. The stretch is so much worse than you imagined it would be, practically splitting you in half. You squealed, clawing at his biceps as he did his best to enter you. Feeling so incredibly stuffed, you look down only to see he’s barely just gotten his tip inside.
The vein in Zayne’s forehead throbs as his jaw slackens, a string of swears leaving his lips, "Jesus you’re like a vice down there. I need you to loosen up love, or else I'll never be able to get inside.”
You pant against him, not knowing what to do but to watch the way he stares intently at your tummy. The heat and desire in his expression arouses you beyond belief, and you unconsciously squeeze your velvet walls in excitement. 
Zayne’s knuckles turn white as he grips the headboard for support, the veins in his forearms bulging as he groans out, "Fuck baby please. Are you trying to squeeze it off?”
"Sorry, m’sorry. S’too big,” you wail, hands gripping his shoulders for support. The stretch is nothing like you’ve ever felt, and you don’t know if you can take much more than what’s already inside you. "Z-Zayne it’s too big I c-can’t,” you pant, doing your best to relax and loosen up your muscles. 
"You can, you’re doing so good for me Y/N,” Zayne huffs out, pushing deeper into you, the slick from your forming arousal and his pre cum starting to make the stretch easier. The drag of his cock against your gummy walls starts to feel so torturously delicious, like your body was made to take him in. 
Finally, he eases into you, eyes unable to look away from where your bodies connected.
"If you could see how – hah – beautiful you look like this, spread out for me,” he grunts, being as gentle as he can manage, when all he wanted was to ram into your warm and tight cunt, squeezing him so tightly. 
"Been waiting for the day I could – shit – finally be inside you. Drove me fucking insane thinking about you and Matthew.”
His words are enough to have you leaking all over your joined bodies, the slick dampening his pelvis and your thighs. As he seats himself in you as deeply as he can, his tip brushing against your womb, he lets out a shaky breath of ecstasy.
"Is this what you – hah – thought about? When you were with another man?” His words are claiming, making butterflies explode in your gut and your cunt to flutter around him. You can only moan and drool as his body thuds into yours, over and over. 
"Sweetest little princess cunt I've ever felt,” he swears, languidly withdrawing from you before pushing back in, knocking the breath out of you. With your head leaning against the back of your bed frame you can see every second of his glistening length burrowing in and out of you, like it absolutely owned you. 
"Z-Zayne,” you moan, nails digging into his shoulders, "Please.” You don’t know exactly what you’re begging for, but you can’t stop the words from coming. 
"Hah, if you want something you have to – fuck – ask for it love,” he pants, doing his best not to get lost in the pure pleasure of finally getting to be inside you.
His words send you reeling, the ecstasy increasing with each deliberate and hard drag. You fight through the fucked out haze, vision blurred from your hooded lids, "Hah - harder please.”
At your request Zayne stutters for a brief second, your cunt squeezing so tight he could barely move, "Anything for you.” 
With his hand clutching the frame, he uses his other hand to rub harsh circles onto your swollen clit. His pelvis smacks against your thighs and ass so hard that the bed posts knock into the wall repeatedly, the skin slapping sounds mixing with the sounds of the wood against the plaster. 
At the added stimulation your eyes roll into your brain, your eyelids weighing down heavily. Zayne leans in until his chest presses against your breasts, your breaths heaving in tandem. His eyes follow yours, forcing you to hold eye contact with every deep thrust into your soul. Against your will, your eyelids flutter as the pleasure starts to overcome your fighting consciousness.
You can vaguely make out Zayne’s smirk, as his hand leaves the frame to cup your chin in his palm, "Don’t tell me you’re already worn out, love.” His fingers flick against your clit.
You yelp out, nails digging into his back with one hand while the other hand smacks his shoulder gently. You pout, "You’re so mean to me.”
He leans down to kiss your shoulder, his pace never faltering. He chuckles against your skin, "But you can take it, right? You always take me so well.” The double meaning of his words makes you clench in excitement, the praise making your chest tighten.
He groans as you clench down onto him, threatening to make him blow, "Hah so fucking tight. You like that huh baby? You like it when I praise you?” He thumbs your clit with more intensity, wanting to see you come absolutely undone for him.
You bite your lip to keep from screaming, nodding eagerly in response to his words. Zayne’s thrusts only grow in intensity, as if he’s trying to reach your esophagus from your cunt. You’re a mess of uncontrollable moans and mewls, unable to stop your eyes from rolling back and your tongue from hanging out as he fucked you into oblivion.
"Look at you,” he grins arrogantly, voice husky with desire and raw possessiveness, "Going on a date with my intern just to end up with my cock stuffed in you.”
You whine at his words, simultaneously not wanting to think about Matthew but also being so turned on by the dominating undertone of his words. His fingers abandon your clit, much to your disappointment, to trace the bulge his cock makes in your tummy. His other hand pulls your chin down so you can watch him.
"Look how deep I am, love,” he grunts. You watch in awe as the small bump in your stomach  bulges and disappears with the rhythm of Zayne’s thrusts. With every withdrawal, Zayne’s impressive cock glistens with slick, the throbbing veins bulging enough to make you drool. Absolutely entranced, you fit your hand under his to stroke at his cock as it pushed through your tummy.
Zayne swears as you caress his cock through the bump in your tummy, throwing his head back to catch his breath. His hand goes back to paw at your clit, trying to stop himself from blowing his load into you right there.  
As the climax builds in your gut, you throb around his impossibly hardened length spearing in and out of you, to which he twitches inside of you. The sounds of your combined whimpers and grunts, the lewd smacks of his damp slick dampened skin against yours, and the bed slamming against the wall overwhelm your brain until you can only think about Zayne, his cock inside you, and the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.
"Zayne, I-I’m close,” you cry, hand abandoning your stomach to loop around his neck, digging your nails into his damp skin.
"Fuck – I know love, I can feel you trying to squeeze it out of me,” he grunts, body slamming into yours so hard that your body smacks against the headboard.
"I’m gonna – gonna cum,” you cry, nails digging into the taut muscles of his back.
"No,” he demands, and you do your best not to gape at him. He gasps through his next strokes, "Be a good girl and wait for me. I want to feel you finish all over me when I cum inside you.”
"O-okay,” you say, but you’re honestly unsure if you’ll be able to wait, the waves of pleasure crashing into you so roughly it threatens to overtake you right then and there.
"That’s my girl,” gripping your chin, Zayne leans in to kiss you again, his tongue claiming your warm and waiting mouth. Your eyes squeeze shut and your body tenses as you try to quell the raging tides of the impending climax, moaning endlessly into Zayne’s mouth.
You pull away to breathe, your lungs needing as much oxygen as possible to withstand the ecstasy. Zayne’s hand grips the wooden beams above your bed again, his knuckles turning white as he watches the pleasure contort your beautiful face. 
"I-I can’t – ”
"You can, baby. I’m – hah – almost there, just hold on a little longer for me,” he grunts. The pleasure and pain of his edging threatens to knock you unconscious, but you nod and throw your head back as your eyes roll backwards again.
Through your fucked out haze you can vaguely see a strange icy sheen forming on the wooden beams of your bed’s headboard. You follow the path of luminous crystals and realize they’re forming from Zayne’s hand that grips against the frame so tightly his knuckles are pale and taut, as he comes closer to exploding inside you. 
Unable to shake yourself out of the pleasure, you can’t find the words to warn Zayne. You continue to watch in awe as the beautiful iridescent flakes frost over the dull old wood. His palm is covered in a layer of snow white frost, the tiny snowflakes dancing around his skin as it grips the furniture so forcefully. You realize he’s losing control of his evol, because of you. And the idea of that threatens to push you head first into your second orgasm of the night.
It happened so fast. As Zayne bullies himself in and out of you, thrusting as if his life depended on it, the wooden beams of your headboard cracks in his hand, the wood turning brittle against his icy evol, and shattering under the force of his bruising grip. 
Zayne shields your body with his own as frozen wooden splinters fly everywhere, his thrusts stuttering as the sound of cracking wood pierces the air. You can tell he’s scared, constantly worried about losing control of his evol around you like this. His hands clasp together, massaging his wrists and trying to calm the unpredictable storm of his evol. You can feel him about to pull away, to get away from you and keep you safe.
You hug him close to you as he tries to pull away not wanting him to stop, not caring the least bit about the splintering wood falling into your hair. The worry and disgust with himself is evident in his eyes, and it tears at your heart so you do your best to comfort him, "S’okay Zayne, it’s not a big deal, I promise.”
But his eyes are far away, thick with emotions that make your chest lurch. You hold his face in  your hands trying to get him to look at you and not the splintered mess of furniture above you. You lock your knees around his waist. "Zayne baby,” you soothe gently, "Look at me. Look at me please.”
His frantic eyes meet yours under the guidance of your palms. You watch as the storm in his eyes calms down ever so slightly when they meet yours. You brush your thumb against his cheek, whispering, "Don’t stop, please. M’so close. I need you.” 
But Zayne is hesitant, only filled with worry for you, his thrusts halting altogether but still thick and solid in you. His jaw clenches down, "Did I hurt you?”
"Not at all,” you reassure, hand stroking his anguish laced face, "I don’t care, please make me cum Zayne, want to cum for you s’bad.”
Zayne continues his thrusts slowly, trying to shake away his anger at himself, "Hah – I'm so sorry Y/N, I'll buy you a new one, okay?”
"Y-yes whatever you want, but please just fuck me,” you plead, not wanting your climax to slip through your fingers, "Please don’t stop.” 
Your begging is enough to have Zayne going feral again, slowly regaining the vigor in his thrusts. His hand dusts the wooden fragments away from your hair. Your head sinks deep into the pillow, and falls back to peer at the gaping hole in your bed frame, slightly in awe of his sheer primal strength. It honestly turned you on unbelievably, edging you closer and closer. 
"Zayne I c-can’t wait anymore, m’sorry m’cumming,” you wail, your nails digging through his back as the ecstasy explodes in your body, from the tips of your curled toes to your fucked out brain. Your walls flex against Zayne’s vigorous thrusts as he continues to chase his own high, briefly forgetting about the furniture he’d ruined in his brief slip of control. 
Your eyes pull away from the snowflakes melting on the splintered headboard and fixate on Zayne’s eyes as your vision spots with fireworks, his cock pistoning in and out of you relentlessly. 
He lifts your thighs up until they press against his chest, your muscles aching in protest. Your ankles rest on his shoulders as he drives himself into your guts at this angle. He leans down and your body screams at the stretch in your muscles but he hits you so deeply like this you can’t feel anything but pleasure. He hits your g spot at every thrust, your body barely recovering from the previous orgasm as he steers you straight into another. 
"Sh-shit,” he groans, his eyes hooded as they bore into yours, "Squeezing me so fucking tight, are you trying to milk me? If you keep clenching down like that I'm gonna – fuck!” He swears at your nails digging into his broad back, dragging deep scratches into him as he fucks you roughly through the pleasure. 
"P-please Zayne I want to feel you,” you cry, "Cum inside me, please.” As Zayne pounds into you with no semblance of mercy, stars blur your vision, your body doing your best to accommodate him and the endless waves of overwhelming ecstasy. Your wet release splashes against your skin with every thrust of his hard muscular body. 
"F-fuck I'm gonna cum so deep inside you baby,” he groans with his eyes intently staring into yours, "This pussy is all mine.”
"You’re mine,” his voice is intense, a primal growl of urge and possessiveness, claiming you as his with both words and with his body. He bends back down, pressing a wet open mouthed kiss into you, tongue intertwining with yours needily. Both his hands threads through your hair, tugging gently as he rocks into you. He groans into your mouth, body shuddering as he finally releases into you.
Zayne rips away from your lips to rock onto his knees before you and carry you onto his lap, wanting to be able to hold you as close as possible as he emptied rope after rope inside of you. The angle allowed him to literally fuck his spend up into you. Your legs wrap around his waist and your hands around his neck, unable to even squeal at the sudden movement, only able to drool out against the crook of his neck. 
His spend is so deliciously hot inside of you, as your pussy quivers at the warmth, squeezing him even more. He forces his tongue into you again, wanting to be attached to you in every way as he pumps every thick rope into your waiting womb. As he tugs on your bottom lip, body still pressed on top of your legs, cock hitting your sweetest spots, you release all over him again.
Your eyes squeeze shut as your cunt pulsates uncontrollably, pulling more and more of his essence into you. Zayne’s thick muscles shake under you, the waves of his orgasm rocking his entire body into yours.  
You pant as his bounces slow, his unending stamina finally coming to a halt as his sweaty chest heaves against your trembling breasts. He presses gentle kisses to the deep hickeys he’d marked onto your skin, using his broad hands to caress your bruise splotched throat.
The sound of satisfied pants and soft moans blankets the two of you as you snuggle into him, never wanting this moment of post sex bliss to end. Your collective spend begins to leak down onto Zayne’s lap, your poor cunt physically unable to hold the copious amount of spend inside of you. 
As his member softens it begins to slip out of you uncomfortably, so you squeeze in an effort to keep him in you as long as physically possible. 
Zayne swears, his eyes heated and his gentle grip on your throat tightening just slightly, as he warns you darkly, "Behave. Unless you want me to take you again.”
And though the idea of him bringing you to orgasm again, and many times after, sounds like heaven on earth, you don’t think your poor cunt can possibly handle any more pleasure for tonight. He chuckles when you ease up, stroking the curvature of your naked spine with his icy fingers. 
"I’m sorry about your bed, my love,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, falling softly backwards onto the bed and guiding you down with him until you rested on top of his hard muscular body, his softening erection still nuzzled deep inside you. He’s careful to lay the two of your joined bodies away from the destroyed headboard, holding your head protectively against his chest.  "I will buy you a replacement tomorrow.”
His free hand roams every inch of your body, from twirling the strands of your hair to gripping the supple flesh of your rear. 
"S’okay Zayne, it’s not necessary,” you murmur sleepily, tracing the contours of his taut muscles, "I don’t need a new frame.” Honestly the idea of Zayne breaking your bed in pure primal lust was enough to have the heat collecting back in between your thighs. 
"I would rather you take me on a date,” you smile into his skin, "Since you ruined the one I had today.”
Zayne chuckles, the sound so warm and beautiful to your ears you think you might melt right into his solid frame, "I suppose I did. Will you let me take you out tomorrow?”
You lean up so that your chin rests on his chest and you can peer at him through your lashes, giving him your best begging face, "Only if you beg.” 
He looks up at you, the amused lopsided smile on his face just begging to be wiped off, "Please? Let me take you to dinner.” He lifts your chin off his chest with his index finger, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to your lips. He smirks when you shiver at his fleeting touch, watching you bend to his very will.
"And then after…” he trails off, fingers leaving your face to trace against the side of your exposed breasts, and up to your hard nipples. You bite your lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of moaning out. 
As he incessantly fiddles with your skin, you finish his thought with a joke, "After you can come destroy my new bed frame too.”
Zayne’s eyes darken with mischief and amusement, "You shouldn't write checks your body can’t cash, my love.”
The filthy promise in his words coupled with his cold fingers pressed deliciously into your pebbled peaks rip the whimper you’d been holding back out of your lips, your cunt clenching in anticipation despite your crippling exhaustion.
But it seems Zayne knows your body as well as you do. "But for tonight, just sleep,” he mumbles into the top of your head, pressing his lips into your hair. 
"Mmm stay here with me, please,” you murmur into his chest, letting the sleep take root in your pleasure numbed mind. 
"I'll be here when you wake up,” he reassures, his voice falling deeper and rougher with exhaustion and hands shifting to cover your bodies with your comforter. His hands then wrap around your waist, holding your body against this, as if scared you’d disappear from his arms. "I won’t ever leave you.” 
Your heart flutters as the unconsciousness claims you. "G’night Zayne,” you mumble, kissing his chest.
"Good night my love.”
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toxicanonymity · 1 year
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omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!
EVERY INCH 2
2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader
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follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3
SERIES MASTERLIST
A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N. 
SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.
You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .
Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 
It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  
The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"
"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 
You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."
"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."
"What do you want?"
"I asked how you liked the movie." 
Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 
"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."
Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 
He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”
"wishful thinking," you reply. 
Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”
You’re not even going to argue. 
“How was your date?" 
"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.
"You didn't look interested.” 
"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.
"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”
You freeze. 
He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"
You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"
"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 
You scoff. 
". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"
"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."
"Pervert."
“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.
"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  
You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 
“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 
Are you that predictable?  
“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 
“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 
Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal
“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 
“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 
“Yeah, that’s it . . .”
You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 
He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.
You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 
"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 
He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?
“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 
"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 
You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 
“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 
You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 
“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 
“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”
“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.
“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 
“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”
You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 
—---
You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.
“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  
“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”
You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   
The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.
“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 
The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  
He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  
You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 
“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 
He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 
The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 
“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.
“Who are you?”
“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.
“What do you want?”
“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 
He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 
The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 
“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. ���A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 
He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.
“Good girl,” he says.
His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 
------
Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.
“Now where’s my knife.”
“I don’t have it,” you claim. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
“What’s so special about it?”
“It’s mine.” 
“The cops have it.” 
“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”
You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 
He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.
NEXT: PART 3
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Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.
Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.
Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹
@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.
Slasher master list
@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07
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irndad · 26 days
Text
don't date coworkers- s.r.
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a/n: i literally wrote this very fast and also i hope you like it pls go easy on me!!! reader has a policy they don't date coworkers. spencer is so angsty abt that !! also sorry for dropping a new fic at 2am LOL wc: 1.7k
She’s really, really good at talking to people. 
It’s one of the many traits Spencer adores about her. She moves through crowds with ease, and she can charm her way into any piece of information from whatever city cop they need a favor from. She integrated into the team faster than anyone could’ve expected. This is a strength not all profilers have- they know what it takes to know what makes someone appealing, but rare is the ability to be as charismatic and charming as she is. 
She’s good at talking to him.
She’s worked at the BAU for about a year now. 13 months, 7 days and 8 hours since she walked through the doors of the bullpen for the first time, beaming at him for the very first time. Give or take. 
Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew that he was in love with her. He’s halfway certain she does, and is being too polite to mention it. Normally, Spencer is incredibly regimented about boundaries. While the BAU is his family, and there’s no real way to deny that, he knows that he’s less than ideal to go out with. He’s stocky and he never cuts his hair (even though she swears it’s cute longer) and he’s an awkward guy- gangly and tall and just ill-fitting to be part of the scenery of her life. 
It’s a Friday, and a rainy one at that. It’s one of the blessed ones where they don’t really have a case, just paperwork to catch up on, reports and her desk faces a window. 
Normally, when Spencer gets his work done (a good four hours before everyone else on a paperwork-only day), he’d head out. Catch up on whatever Russian novel he’s been chipping away at- but she’s here, and he’s made her favorite tea. 
“I thought you could use a treat,” he says, walking over to her desk. She looks up at him, brushing overgrown bangs, “It’s not really a great one, but I’ll get you some scones on the way to mine, yeah?”
She looks up at him, dropping her pen and focusing entire energy on him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, like an ant under a magnifying glass. 
“Did you know that I adore you, Spence?” 
He is very much not aware. No amount of her saying it will ever make him know. She takes a long sip from the mug. He knows how much honey she likes in it. He studies how she looks, eyes closed serenely, completely invested in what he’s given her. 
“You’ll be taking her home, pretty boy?” Morgan snickers, in a not altogether unkind manner. 
“Fuck off,” she says kindly, not taking her eyes off of Spencer as she rebuffed Morgan’s teasing. 
“Easy, easy,” Morgan laughs, “I’ll leave your boyfriend alone.”
If she has anything to say to that, it doesn’t come out then. 
He’s still bright red, though. Morgan is amused, and Spencer knows that she really, truly adores Morgan. Spencer loves him too, but it would be nice if he laid off the jokes. 
She doesn’t date coworkers. 
He knows this because of the first time they’d met, when he’d been walking in carrying a croissant for Garcia and a coffee for JJ, and saw what can only be described as a truly ridiculously beautiful woman in the bullpen. 
She’d been leaned back, smiling openly as Morgan tossed some random pick-up line towards her. He remembers it now like he can still hear it, her lilting lovely voice carrying just the right amount of warmth to make this not sting, or at least sting as little as possible. 
“I’m sorry, Derek,” she had said, “I make it a point not to date coworkers.” 
Which of course is fine. She can date whoever she wants, and it’s a good policy to have personally. And Spencer’s never really be the kind of guy who excelled at getting dates. He knew from the first minute that he saw her that even if she didn’t think that way… well, it wouldn’t be him, who she picked. 
Now, they are very close. So close that she drives him home from work every Friday. Which usually includes staying at his shitty apartment and watching VHS tapes of documentaries and Doctor Who. 
He wants to kiss her every Friday. All, the time, really. It’s kind of plaguing him. Clearly, she likes hanging out with him. Something about him is appealing. It’s foolish to assume that it’s more than friends, especially for someone like him to be with someone like her. 
She doesn’t date coworkers. 
“I made sure the film tonight has subtitles!”
“Are you saying film because this film is foreign, Spence?”
“I promise it’s worth it!” He says excitedly, “And they’re really done well. You won’t have to have me whisper the translations to you in real time!”
“I didn’t mind that,” She laughs then, a real laugh, “but I’m glad we’re getting to hang out tonight.”
It’s funny- they’ve done this so, so many times, but he never stops being thrilled. 
___________________________________
Sometimes, when the summer air is forgiving enough, they walk home from the office. She takes the train in, and they walk back to his place. Tonight is one of these nights, and god- she looks lovely. She’s tied her blazer around her waist, and the sunset hits her face in that gorgeous baroque painting kind of way. 
“You’re very pretty,” he hears himself say before he can stop it. He’s endlessly pleased when she preens at the praise. 
“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” she says, shoving her hands into her pockets, a nervous gesture. He wants to hold those hand, intertwine her lovely delicate fingers with his bony wispy fingers. 
“You’re being nice to me,” he says, looking down at his shoes. They’re stupid. He should wear loafers, or some other shoe that doesn’t make him like half-child half-geek. 
“I’m being accurate, actually,” she says she bumps his shoulder. 
She’d be a wonderful girlfriend. He lives in the world this can happen quite often, in his fantasy. She laughs at his jokes and tells him he’s kind, and good, and she means it. He’s lucky to have this much of her- more than anyone else on the team! Spencer knows he’s her favorite. The way she’s looking at him now, how she give-up her Fridays to spend with him, on his ratty couch, how she always listens. Whenever they're both on the jet and he falls asleep, he always wakes up with a blanket on him. She's so good at loving people.
Being her favorite on the team does not mean he’s in the running to be a boyfriend. But he’d fucking want to be. He’d be a good boyfriend. Spencer, he’s gone so far for her. He fantasizes about getting her flowers that have symbolic meaning.
“Are you okay, boy-genius?”
“I’m better than okay. Do you want popcorn?”
She wants popcorn. He sets the movie up, and she gets comfortable on his couch, curling up with his purple felt blanket, and his mind betrays him with unhelpful images of what it might look like if she was his, if this is what he came home to. 
Don't picture welcome home kisses, or movie nights or being wanted. Don't.
It’s very, very hard to focus on the movie.  
She’s touchy, with him. He’s not sure if it’s because she could never see him as her boyfriend, but he’s grateful as she leans her head on his. She smells like peonies. When the credits roll, they stay like that for minute- her head on his shoulder and one of her legs thrown over his. 
He wonders, not for the first time, if she feels the same way about him. If things were just..different, then they’d be kissing under the haze of his TV right now, if he’d know what that chapstick she carries with her every day tastes like. 
“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we met under different circumstances?” he says, once time passes and he speaks instead of thinking.
“Hmm?” She hummed, relaxed eyes flitting their gaze over to him.
“Like, at a bar or something.”
“But you hate bars.”
“That’s why I said or something!”
Her lip juts out adorably, “But then I wouldn’t get to see you in your element.”
“Yeah,” he sighs, resting his neck on the top of the cushion. The AC is a little too much in the room. He wonders if she’s cold. “But who knows. Maybe we’d date, or something.”
It’s the dumbest thing he’s ever fucking said. Both because it was a dumb way to say it, but because it was an advance. He feels white hot shame lick at his spine when he looks at her, and hears her laugh. 
“I don’t think so, Spence.” 
“No,” shitshitshit, “I didn’t mean-“
“I mean, if you don’t want to date me now, I don’t think meeting at like, Whole Foods would’ve been the difference maker.”
It’s then he hears it- the piece he couldn’t place in her voice, when she gets like this. It’s being resigned. 
“What are you talking about?”
“C’mon, Spence,” she says, another bitter chuckle coming through, “You know how I feel. I haven’t exactly beens subtle.”
“But you don’t date coworkers. You have a rule.”
She looks at him with no recognition of what he’s saying. 
“No, because you told Morgan that, it’s the first thing I ever heard you say.”
“Yeah, but-“
“And yes, okay, you’ve been my favorite person almost as long as I’ve known you and yes, I would fucking love for you to be my girlfriend, but that was your rule!”
“You want me to be your girlfriend?”
“Obviously!”
He doesn’t get the chance to say anything else before, well- before she’s kissing him. More aggressive than that, really. Crawled onto his lap, arms around his neck, and where she leads Spencer is all too happy to follow. His body is not great at moving on instinct, but his whole nervous system feels alive- the weight of her in his lap, the feel of her waist under his fingers, the way he’s allowed this. It feels like such a pleasure, hedonistic in a way he’s never, ever been allowed to experience.
“You had a rule,” he says dumbly when she pulls away. His lips are wet. He’d like to go back to kissing, thank you very much. 
“You’re the exception, to every rule, Spencer.”
When he kisses her again (which he’s allowed to do now, holy fuck) Spencer decides he’s going to spend the rest of all time earning that status. 
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peachesofteal · 2 months
Text
Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ brief suggestive content
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"Why are we stopping here?"
Vacation was great. It was everything you needed, he needed, a perfect slice of memories now engrained in his brain, moving pictures tucked away for him to think about when he's trying to fall asleep alone on a cold, threadbare safehouse mattress.
Not to mention the hundred photos he took of you in that bikini.
But now, it comes to an end. Now, he's about to blindside you with painful, shocking reality.
He didn’t plan it like this, not really. The town is outside of the place he chose for vacation, but not close enough that it’s in a travel path. It’s far enough away from town, tucked into grassy hill, but still close enough to civilization. He’s not a monster, after all. He knows you wouldn’t appreciate being cut off from the world.
Plus, Price and his wife live a few clicks to the east.
"Simon?" He finds your hand, shutting the passenger door and leading you to the walk. “What is this?”
The words stick in his throat, and you watch him warily. “It’s… let’s just go inside.” The keys feel like an anchor in his pocket.
“What?” Your face twists in confusion. “Go inside?” You let go of his hand, and the sapphire sparkles in the sunlight. He reaches out of instinct.
“Mama-“
“Don’t ‘mama’ me… tell me what is going on.” You shirk out of his grasp.
“This is our house.” Your jaw drops.
“What?!” You shriek. “Our what?”
“Our house. I bought it, for us. F'you, and Orion.” You're standing a pace away from him now, too far for comfort, shuddering. When you clap a hand over your heart, his body goes cold. Stress. Stress can exacerbate your condition. "I need to keep you safe."
"I... I don't know what to say. You bought a house without asking me?" You're waspish, and he's too fast for you, too tactical. You're in his arms in a second, his fingers pressed to the artery below your jaw. It's too fast.
"Take a deep breath." He murmurs. "Try to calm down, everything is going to be fine."
"No!" You jerk backwards and he lets you go, bereft at the loss of your warmth against his chest. "You don't just get to blindside me with this and then think everything is going to be fine."
"I know. 'm sorry. I just... I need to keep you safe, sweetheart. You and the baby. Your flat is great but-"
"But nothing." You hiss and stomp away, before turning back, slicing through the air with an open palm. "My flat is great. It's my home! Mine and Orion's." You sniffle. "I thought it was yours too." Fuck.
"It is. It has been. But it's not safe. It's too exposed, there's no security, your windows face the street. The neighborhood is too difficult to disappear into and away from. It's too populated."
"Gaz and Cami live there." Not for long. He doesn't tell you about Gaz's long term plans, the ones that involve a house just over the hill. He doesn't think it would do him any favors right now.
"Will you just come inside and look at it, at least?" You shake your head. "It's not a bad drive to the beach. You could take Orion as much as you want. Teach him to swim. We could take as many vacations as you want, as a family. Please, give it a chance. That's all I ask." You cross your arms over your chest, but after a minute, nod.
"Fine."
The house is a blank slate. He didn't have time to get anything done, but he tries to pitch it as a selling point. "You'd be able to do whatever you want." You raise an eyebrow.
"Like paint the kitchen pink?" He swallows.
"Sure." You're trying to test him, punish him, but he's not upset. He can already tell you're starting to entertain it all. The house is triple the size of your flat, with three bedrooms, a sizable kitchen, even a garden.
He follows you around, your finger trailing over the walls, window sills, trying to hold his tongue, allowing you space to work through it in your mind. "What if I have to go into the office?"
"You said you never go into the office. You're completely remote." You glare.
"And how are you going to get here? It's so far from your base."
"There's a small airport to the east. We'll get in and out that way. It will be quick."
"We?" Shit.
"Ah, Price and his wife live, kind of close by." You blink, and then laugh out loud.
"You've got to be kidding me. Is this your plan? Some sort of weird commune for special task force wives?" It's the first time you've said, called yourself his wife, and his cock swells beneath the zipper on his jeans, possessive instinct flowing freely. "Don't."
"Don't what."
"I know that look." Still, you don't move as he stalks closer, close enough you're backed up against the windowsill in the master bedroom.
"What look mama?"
"The caveman look you get. Me husband, you wife." You try to imitate his accent, and he chuckles.
"I love you." You roll your eyes.
"I'm pissed at you." There's fire in you, one that burns too bright to be quelled by most, but he's made it is business to know you so well, he can tell when there's something simmering beneath the surface.
"But you like it." Your skin is satin soft, and he strokes your cheek.
"I do. I'm really mad, but I do like it. You... you did a good job."
"Gonna forgive me?"
"Depends." You smirk. "Are you going to earn it?" He presses himself to the inside of your thigh.
"How can I do that?"
"Want to christen our new bedroom?"
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moonlightspencie · 10 months
Text
tenderly, tragically
Description: Silly, lifelong best-friendship leads to a lot of meaningless teasing. Though, sometimes teasing comes from a place of truth. It’s just that sometimes, those getting teased are the last to know why.
Pairing: Best friend!James Potter x fem!Reader
Warnings: fluff, some angst, smut 18+ (p in v, praise kink, whiny james, size kink, first time for both), drinking, its really idiots to lovers
Word Count: 7.8k (just fluff): 9.4k (smut)
A/N: smut is at the end, and there’s a warning before it starts since it’s kind of like an alternate ending/extra bit. if you JUST want fluff, it ends at a good point for that before the smut starts :) ALSO: as with all of my marauders fics, characters are aged up (19-20)
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“Jamie,” I squeal a laugh, chasing after him.
He laughs, continuing to out-run me. The bastard.
“Not my fault you’re slow,” he calls back. “Catch up, love, or you’ll get caught.”
I run harder, jumping on his back when I get close enough. We both knew he’d slowed down to let me get closer, but neither of us bothered to mention it. He laughed, holding onto my legs as they wrapped around his waist, slowing until he was walking.
“You’re going to get us caught, you know that?”
I snort a laugh. “Please. There wasn’t even anybody there.”
He rolls his eyes playfully, finally dropping me from his back, and instead slinging an arm around my shoulders.
“They could have, though.”
“But they didn’t,” I say pointedly. “Besides, Remus, Peter, and Sirius are still actually in the Slytherin dorms. Lousy look-outs we are because of you.”
He chuckles, walking us towards the stairs.
“They’ll be fine,” he shrugs with a cocky smirk. “Besides, I doubt even most of the Slytherins would object to a little prank on Snivellus.”
I hum, nodding a little. “I guess. Still. You’re a bad friend.”
“You ran too,” he accused, his brow furrowing. “Don’t go and pin all this on me.”
“You told me to run!”
“You didn’t have to listen!”
I scoff, shaking my head. He gives me an irritated look, but pulls me a little closer under his arm. We get into the common room, and without even asking, he starts ushering me to their dorm room.
“Why?” I ask, knowing he knows what I’m asking.
“Sue me for wanting to spend some time with my life-long friend,” he says, quirking a brow.
I push him away from me, but he doesn’t really let me get far. He opens his door, pushing me in first. I immediately flop onto his bed face-first.
“Not complaining now, are you?” he asks, laying next to me.
“Not my fault your bed is so comfy,” I say, my voice muffled by the mattress.
I feel the mattress dip, and look up to see him also turned on his stomach, right next to me.
“If you really wanted to get me alone this bad you could’ve asked,” I say with a wink.
He rolls his eyes, but a smile gives him away.
“Please. I know you’re secretly hoping for it, but we both know that’s never going to happen.”
“Me?” I laugh. “As if. What would I do with a quidditch player?”
He scoffs, an offended look on his face.
“I’ll have you know that I am very desirable, and half of that has to do with the fact I’m the seeker, thank you.”
I roll my eyes. “Uh huh. And what’s the other half?”
“You seen this face?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his lips.
“Unfortunately I have.”
“You’re mean,” he says, a laugh breaking up his attempt to be offended.
He pushes me a bit, but I hardly budge. I laugh at his attempt, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do. He perks up, trying harder to fully push me off the bed, now.
“Hey!” I say in protest, fighting back against him.
He laughs, both of us practically fighting as he keeps trying to push me off. I see an opportunity a moment later and take it: I grab onto one of his arms with both of mine.
“Ha!” I say loudly. “Can’t push me off now unless you also fall off.”
He pauses, then an evil smirk comes onto his face. My face drops as I realize what he’s about to do. He scoots over, dropping both of us onto the ground. I squeal as we fall, and I end up taking the brunt of the fall as he lands on top of me.
“You should never threaten me with a good time. You know I can’t resist,” he says, not bothering to alleviate the pressure of his body pinning me down.
I groan. “You suck. I didn’t think you’d actually push both of us off just to get me.”
“Then you don’t know me very well,” he replies with a quirked brow.
“Please. I know you better than anyone and you know it.”
He opens his mouth to snark back at me, but the door opens before he gets a chance.
“You two are the worst,” Sirius says, clearly out of breath. Then, he scoffs as more footsteps follow behind him. “And look at this! They ran off on us to… Canoodle on the floor.”
I furrow my brow, pulling a face as I try to see him around James.
“Canoodle?” I repeat in disgust.
James finally starts getting off of me, kneeling on the ground next to me as I start pulling myself up. Remus and Peter give us a look.
“We’re not… canoodling, and you can blame Prongs for us ditching. He’s the one who took off running and told me I had to, too.”
Remus quirks a brow at that as Sirius goes to sit on his bed.
“You didn’t have to listen to him,” Peter pipes up.
“That’s what I told her,” James says, giving me a self-satisfied look.
I make a sour face at him, pushing his arm a little. He pushes me back, and I straighten up. Though, Remus must notice that look on me.
“Don’t you two start up again,” he says, pointedly looking between us. “If I have to watch you two flirt any more I might throw up.”
“We’re not flirting,” James grumbles. “She’s just fun to mess with.”
“Mm. And you’re just easy to win a fight against,” I add.
He looks at me quickly. “You didn’t win the last one.”
“Because you pushed us both off the bed!” I exclaim.
“Oh, shut it, you two,” Sirius says, his arm draped over his face. “We’ve been back for three days and you’re already acting up.”
I snort a laugh at Sirius’s annoyance, climbing back onto James’s bed. I sigh with my face in the pillows, feeling him climb over me to get to the other side a second later.
“You got us in trouble,” he whispers.
“Your fault, not mine,” I reply.
“You’re the one who insulted my perfect face.”
“You’re the one who pushed me first,” I argue back.
“Oi!” Sirius calls out again, leaving us both laughing.
Our first few weeks of school go off without a hitch. The boys continue pulling their little pranks, occasionally dragging me along with them. I settle into my space this year, glad to still have Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas as my roommates. We always tended to get along quite well.
I start reading a new book one night, absolutely enraptured with the story, probably even more so considering it’s helping me to avoid the homework that I really should be doing. I get through the first couple chapters before I notice Lily staring at me.
“What is it, Lils?”
“Can I tell you something?” Lily asks suddenly.
She looks around the room, seemingly to make sure the other girls are really gone for whatever she’s about to say.
I look at her over my book. “Sure.”
“Promise not to tell anyone?”
I nod. “Promise.”
She sighs, sitting up a little straighter. “I think I have a thing for someone… Well, for James.”
My eyes widen. “Really? You wanted nothing to do with him a little while ago.”
“I know. I just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just bored or something, but I’ve been thinking about telling him.”
I nod. “Yeah. You should.”
“Really?” she asks, surprised.
“Why not?”
She smiles to herself. “Yeah. Why not? Do you think he’ll say it back?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe? He did have a crush on you before.”
She hums to herself. I laugh a little, shaking my head.
“I think I’ll do it tomorrow. Better to do it sooner than later, yeah?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I shrug noncommittally. I really just wanted to get back to my book.
“You don’t even care,” she groans after a moment.
“This is a really good book, Lils,” I laugh.
“Fine. I’ll stop bothering you.”
“Thanks,” I smirk to myself.
She scoffs again, though I know she isn’t really offended. I wish her good luck as we head off to our classes that day, knowing she was planning on telling James sometime in the morning.
I end up finding him later, though I try not to press for answers the second I do. We sit on the grass in the late afternoon, watching some first years play a little quidditch match for fun. It’s uncharacteristically warm outside, and the sun shines down on us. After half an hour of watching the kids play, I glance at James.
“I wanna show you something,” I say suddenly, standing.
James looks up at me in confusion. “I’d prefer not to move.”
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.
“It’s a nice day. Sunny and no clouds. Please, just follow me?” I ask, almost whining. “Promise you’ll like it.”
He leans back on his hands. “How do you know?”
“Because I found a secret place in the woods, and you’ll be the first person besides me to see it,” I offer.
He quirks a brow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Now get up.”
He grumbles to himself as he gets up, following me as we walk towards the woods. I start leading him through the trees towards the destination I had in mind.
“What were you even doing in here? It’s dangerous,” he says quietly.
“I was fine. Just had a long day and wanted to explore. It was in the daytime anyway,” I say matter-of-factly.
He hums to himself, clearly dissatisfied that I went out here by myself. But as I finally lead him to our destination, his annoyance wears off.
“Whoa,” he says, his eyes a little wide.
I smile. “See? Told you it would be worth your while.”
He looks on at the small clearing. There’s a little pond with clear water, the space in the trees allowing some sunlight to reflect on the water. It looks peaceful at least, and nearly-heavenly at best. I look at him expectantly.
“How’d you find this?” he asks, squatting by the water. He dips his hand it. “Whoa. It’s warm.”
I nod, still standing. “I found it when I was exploring, like I said. A few weeks ago. I charmed the water to stay warm, so I’ve been out here two or three times to swim. Thought I’d show you before it gets too cold.”
He smiles, standing up. “You want to go swimming? You didn’t bring any—”
His eyes widen as he finally looks at me. At this point, I’ve already started taking off my robes and my shirt.
“What?” I ask, brows furrowed. “You act like you’ve never been around me getting dressed. We’ve been friends since we were like six years old. Now, hurry up. Faster you get undressed, the faster we get to swim.”
He rolls his eyes at me, begrudgingly taking off his clothes, even though part of him still looks excited that I’d found such a nice little place.
I start wading in once I’m down to my underwear, the water feeling nice and warm in contrast to the slightly-cool air. I hear him come in after me in a moment, and turn to watch him.
“Nice, isn’t it?”
“Can’t believe you were hiding this from me,” he says, hiding a smirk.
“Oh, please,” I reply, floating on my back in the water. “You’re lucky I showed you at all. Nobody else knows about this. You should feel honored.”
I hear him hum and splash around a little, though my eyes are closed. I bask in the warmth of the sunlight on my face.
“Did Lils talk to you today?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.
“Yeah.”
I upright myself, looking at him as he aimlessly walks around in the water.
“And?”
He glances at me, giving a shrug. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” I press, furrowing my brow. “What’s that supposed to mean? What did you guys talk about?”
“I have a feeling you already know,” he snorts a laugh.
I roll my eyes, wading closer to him. “So she told you?”
“Yep.”
“Well, what happened? What did you say?”
He sighs dramatically. “Does it matter?”
I splash him a little. “I’m gonna hear about it no matter what. She’s my roommate. Just wanted to know from you before I see Lily later.”
“Told her I wasn’t interested,” he says quietly, splashing me back a little.
I pause. “Why? You always had a massive crush on her.”
“Not in, like, a year,” he says.
“So you just rejected her?”
“I didn’t reject her,” he furrows his brows, looking away from me. “She told me she liked me, and I just told her I wasn’t into her like that. She didn’t ask me a question, so it wasn’t a rejection. Just being honest.”
I groan. “Jamie, she’s going to kill me. I’m the one who encouraged her to tell you.”
His eyes widened. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“I thought you liked her!”
He pauses for a moment, then splashes me again, this time fully soaking me. I scoff a laugh, in shock as the water hits me. I glare at him, then splash him back just as hard. He starts going on the attack, practically throwing the water at me repeatedly.
“You absolute tosser,” I say, continuing to splash back, though I can’t help but laugh.
I start backing up as we both continue, now laughing and barely able to see with how rapid-fire we’re going. Eventually, I turn and start running for the shore as much as I can while being chest-deep in water. I squeal as I hear him closing in on me.
“No, no, no,” I laugh, getting closer and closer to safety.
“Should’ve thought about trying to run a little harder, love,” James says back, still giggling to himself.
He catches up to me when the water is finally below my hips, and grabs around the waist, pulling both of us backwards. The water goes over our heads for a moment, and I gasp out a laugh as we emerge again. He sits us up in the pond.
I turn in his arms, smacking him lightly on the chest. “You’re awful!”
“You love me,” he smiles brightly, still sitting on the ground in the shallow water. He pulls me in a little closer. “You’re just mad that I won.”
“Still can’t believe you said you didn’t like her,” I say, brushing some of his wet curls away from his eyes.
“Not gonna lie to the girl,” he shrugs, swatting away my hand.
“Still. I thought for sure you’d be excited.”
“Hm. I don’t know. Maybe a couple years ago, but not anymore.”
“At this point I’m convinced you’re driving girls away on purpose. When was the last time you dated someone?” I laugh.
He looks at me, mockingly offended. “Excuse me?”
“What?” I exclaim, still laughing. “Last girl I remember seeing you with was some Ravenclaw a few quidditch wins ago, and even then, you were just sucking face because you were drunk.”
He finally pushes me away from him, trying to hide a smile. I chuckle, gaining my bearings, and finally landing comfortably on my knees in the water a foot away from him.
“You wouldn’t be so offended if I were wrong,” I tease.
“Yeah? And when’s the last time you dated somebody?”
I scoff. “You scare off every boy who tries to ask me out.”
“Cause they’re all ridiculous,” he states, making a face. “Are you seriously telling me you wanted to go out with that Johnny kid from Hufflepuff?”
I smirk. “Touché. But still, it’s not my fault I’m not dating anyone. You, on the other hand…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he quirks a brow.
“You’ve got all kinds of girls chasing after you. What’s your excuse?”
He pauses for a moment, then smirks. “Who else would waste all their time with you if I were too busy with some girl? You’d be all alone. I’m doing you a service by staying single.”
“Please. You and that ego, I swear,” I shake my head. “I have plenty of friends outside of you.”
“I’m the best one, though,” he says, a brow raised with a cocky smile.
I make a face, then splash him once more for good measure.
“That’s it,” he mumbles, tackling me.
I yell a little with a laugh as his arm wraps around my back and drops me onto the bank where the water was scarce. I keep my head propped up as much as I can, though the rest of me is still covered in a little bit of water. It doesn’t help that James is pressing me into the ground.
“Admit it. I am the single greatest person you’ve ever met.”
I laugh again. “In your dreams.”
“Not letting you up until you admit it.”
“Guess we’re stuck here forever, then,” I argue back.
“Guess so,” he says plainly, dropping his full weight on me. I groan, my breath getting squeezed from me. “Best to make myself comfortable, then.”
“You’re so heavy,” I whine.
He chuckles, just quietly observing me for a moment. I tilt my head in question as he doesn’t snark back. He swallows, a small smile still on his face, but a little bit of color now in his cheeks. My eyes widen a little bit.
“Jamie—”
He doesn’t give me a chance to get anything else out, his lips pressing to mine softly. I freeze, in shock at the sudden change of circumstance. My best friend is kissing me. He stays there for a moment, and only pulls away when he realizes I wasn’t kissing him back, his cheeks taking on a deeper shade.
“I’m sorry, I don’t…” he shakes his head, looking at me with his lips still parted. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
He gets off of me quickly, getting out of the pond and back to where we left our clothes. He casts a drying spell on himself and starts getting dressed. Meanwhile, I’m still in the water, feeling like I’m stuck. I swallow with a dry throat, turning to see him starting to pull on his pants. I finally get up, quickly moving towards him.
“Jamie—“
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he shakes his head, not looking at me.
I let out a frustrated groan. “We have to talk about that, James.”
“Not right now. Just,” he sighs, looking at me quickly. He takes out his wand again, casting that same drying spell on me. “Get dressed. We don’t want to miss dinner.”
I stare at him for a moment as he continues putting his clothes on, then finally move to get mine on. We finish getting dressed in an uncomfortable silence, that kiss playing on repeat in my mind. Why would he do that?
I look at him when I’m done to see him staring at his shoes, his hands shoved in his pockets. I walk nearer to him, though he takes half a step back when he notices. I furrow my brow.
“Don’t start that.”
“Start what?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
“Pulling away from me,” I say, grabbing his arm and tugging him closer to me. “I don’t know what just happened, but I’m not going to lose you as a friend all because you—”
“I’m not pulling away from you,” he rolls his eyes. “I just— I don’t want to… I’m embarrassed. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
He scoffs. “Right, because there’s nothing embarrassing about trying to kiss your best friend while she looks at you like you’re crazy.”
I sigh. “I just didn’t know what was happening. You’ve never done anything like that before.”
He looks away, chewing at his lip. “Can we just forget about it? I really don’t… I didn’t mean to.”
I fall quiet for a minute, trying to gather my thoughts, but they’re all seeming to escape me. I let go of his arm, taking in a deep breath.
“You know I love you, right?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah. I know.”
“Okay. Yeah, we can forget about it,” I nod. “You want to go get dinner, then? I heard a rumor they’ll have those apple tarts you like.”
He looks at me, smiling a little bit. “Yeah?”
I nod again, smiling back. “Would I lie?”
He chuckles a little, nodding towards the way we came into the woods. I start leading the way back out until we see the castle again. He catches up to me at that point.
“Sorry again,” he says quietly.
“About what?” I ask, raising a brow. “All I remember is us swimming around. Unless you’re apologizing for tackling me in the pond, in which case, you’re forgiven only if you get me some chocolate frogs next time we’re in Hogsmeade.”
He smiles a little. “Yeah. Promise I will.”
“Good,” I say, knocking into his shoulder a little.
He nudges me back. Of course. I go a little harder the next time I knock into him, until we’re both practically pushing one another over as we head towards the castle. He gives me a particularly hard shove, barely catching me by the arm before I actually fall to the ground. We’re out of breath from laughing when we finally get to the castle, feeling wonderfully back to normal by the time we reach the Great Hall.
We walk up to the marauders, taking our usual seat across from the three boys.
“Hey,” I greet.
“Where were you two for the past hour?” Sirius asks with a quirked brow.
I snort a laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would, considering we saw you wander off into the forest,” he says, leaning forward on his arms with a smirk.
I roll my eyes. “None of your business.”
“Always so secretive,” Remus says, stabbing a few potatoes on his fork before looking between us.
I glance at James who laughs as soon as we make eye contact. Though, I also catch another pair of eyes when I turn towards him, and wince a little. Lily looks at me with her brows furrowed from a little ways down the table. I shrug at her, unsure why she looks upset with me. She rolls her eyes, going back to her conversation with Dorcas. I sigh.
“Great. Now Lily’s mad at me because you had to go and turn her down,” I say to James.
Peter laughs. “He turned her down?”
“When did this happen?” Remus asks, looking much more curious now.
“You need to learn how to shut it,” James says to me, his voice a little high as he shakes his head.
“They would’ve found out anyways,” I say, barely feeling sorry at all.
I hold back from chuckling as James is pelted with questions from the boys, focusing more on my food and trying to ignore the occasional sour glance I get from Lily.
Though, I couldn’t escape her forever.
I walked into my room after a night of sitting around with the boys and Marlene in the common room. I thought I would be going to bed and falling asleep, but clearly it was wishful thinking. Lily stared at me from her bed as Marlene and I shut the door behind us.
I raised a brow. “Hi?”
Marlene looked between us, excusing herself to take a shower. The traitor.
“What the hell?” Lily said, crossing her arms.
“Yeah, what the hell? Why have you been giving me sour looks all day?”
She scoffed. “You told me to tell him, and you know what he did? Oh. Wait, of course you know. Because of course he already told you. Because of course—”
“Oh my god, Lily,” I roll my eyes, going to sit on my bed next to hers. “I’m sorry that I was wrong about how he’d react, but I had no clue. I thought he still had a thing for you.”
She huffs a sigh. “I should’ve known you were setting me up. What, do you like to see me embarrassed?”
“If I did, I would’ve gone along to watch it happen,” I say, annoyed at her attitude. “Sorry I was wrong, but I didn’t know. And you said you wanted to tell him, anyways.”
“You don’t seem to be that sorry considering you were back to hanging around him again all day.”
“He’s my best friend, Lily. I’m not going to ditch him because he didn’t have feelings for you,” I say, shaking my head.
She stands up suddenly. “Well, maybe you should. Maybe if you weren’t like… In love with him, you’d be a better friend to me.”
I stare at her in annoyance. “You need to get a grip. I wouldn’t have encouraged you to try telling him if I was ‘in love’ with him. We’re friends. You’re being insane.”
“Well, clearly he at least has feelings for you!”
I furrow my brow. “Excuse me?”
“Why else would he reject me?”
I laugh against my better judgement. “Are you serious? One boy doesn’t like you, so it just has to be because he’s in love with someone else? Lily, I love you, but that is the most egotistical thing you’ve ever said.”
“But you’re not denying it.”
“James isn’t in love with me. Have you considered that he just doesn’t like you anymore? It happens. People move on,” I say, sighing. “Just… Go to bed, Lily. This is a ridiculous and pointless argument.”
I lay back on my bed, closing my eyes while I wait to get into the bathroom. I hear Lily mutter something under her breath, but choose to ignore it. The more she got angry with me, the less I cared that she got her feelings hurt. I didn’t want to be unsympathetic, but it was getting hard to be concerned when I was blamed for a boy not liking her. Obviously James didn’t like me.
Obviously.
I think.
He did kiss me.
I open my eyes, staring at the ceiling for a moment. James didn’t like me, did he? He’d never shown interest in me before. That kiss probably just happened because he was confused. He wanted to forget about it, anyways, so clearly that had to mean he didn’t mean it. And I didn’t feel that way about him anyways, so it didn’t matter.
Except, I did feel my heart pound a little differently when he looked at me before the kiss.
I didn’t hate the way his lips felt.
Seeing him smile at me on the walk back did give me a few butterflies.
But, no. That’s nothing. He’s my best friend, I wouldn’t suddenly start feeling that way about him. I couldn’t. It’d be ridiculous.
It’s not like I’d spend the rest of the night thinking about him. Except that I did. A lot.
I woke up the next morning, feeling like I was going insane. I’d never felt that way about him before. Of course, I always though he was attractive. How could anybody look at him and not think he was gorgeous? But there was never anything more besides friendship. So why could I not stop thinking about him?
My eyes feel heavy as I sit in my last class of the day, James trying repeatedly to mess with me throughout the class. With five minutes left, he leans in closer. Since when did he start smelling so good?
“Hey,” he says quietly, drawing my attention. “What’s wrong? You’re not getting mad at me.”
“Just tired, Jamie,” I shrug, staring at the notes on the chalkboard that I haven’t copied down.
“That’s a lie. I can tell.”
I sigh. “Have you ever… Has anyone ever told you something about yourself that you thought wasn’t true, and then… And then you realize they might be right?”
He furrows his brows. “How do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Like, let’s say someone tells you that you like strawberries, when you’ve never liked strawberries. But then you think about every time you’ve had a strawberry, and you realize that you actually really did like strawberries. A lot more than you thought you did. Like… you realize strawberries are your favorite fruit.”
He stares with a confused look, tilting his head. He reaches up, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead.
“Are you feeling alright?”
I lean away from him, rolling my eyes. “Cut it out.”
He smiles, nudging me slightly. “Can’t say I’ve had that experience, no.”
I groan. “This sucks.”
“Why can’t you just tell me what actually happened?” he asks. He pouts. “Please?”
I smile at him, trying hard to be annoyed, but finding it difficult. God, I’m in trouble.
“I just can’t. It’s… private.”
“You never keep secrets from me.”
“I don’t even know what secret I’m keeping just yet,” I sigh, resting my chin in my hand. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Aw,” he coos. “You say that like you aren’t already.”
I push him, laughing softly, though we both straighten up when the professor reprimands us. We give a quick apology, still smirking at each other the next time we catch one another’s eye.
The next days pass by in a blur as I come to terms with what I’ve been feeling. It doesn’t help that I couldn’t talk to anyone, especially since Lily was still mad at me. Now, though, I couldn’t blame her as much. She somehow realized I was into him before I did.
“Hey,” Remus says, coming up to me as I sit in the common room. “It’s late. Why are you still here?”
“Why are you?”
He shrugs, sitting next to me. “Can’t sleep. Moon’s coming in a couple days.”
I hum in acknowledgement. “Gotcha.”
He settles into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks sideways at me as I stare into the fire.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Cause I can’t tell anybody.”
He scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. You’ve been off for days. James keeps complaining about how you’re not spending time with him as much.”
I shake my head, not responding.
“You need to talk to someone about this.”
“Can’t.”
“Bullshit.”
I look at him. “Seriously. I can’t talk to Jamie about it, Lily’s still mad at me, and Marls and Dorcas are too gossipy.”
“You can talk to me,” he shrugs.
“You wouldn’t get it, though.”
“Try me.”
I let out a breath. “You have to promise this stays a secret.”
He nods. “Promise.”
“Okay,” I say under my breath. “Okay. So, um, Lily got really mad at me the other day because of the whole…. Confession thing. And I didn’t understand why, and she started accusing me of things, and obviously I disagreed… But then something she said kind of stuck with me.”
“She’s just mad. Don’t listen to her,” Remus says, shaking his head. “You know how she gets when she’s in one of those moods.”
“But I think she was kind of right,” I sigh. “That’s the problem. She thinks… She told me she thought I was into James. And not like friends, like really into him.”
Remus’s eyes widen a little. “And… are you?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for the past week, and… I think I might be.”
“Whoa. I know we always tease you two for how close you are, but I never thought you…”
“I know,” I groan, my face in my hands. “And I know I haven’t been hanging out with him as much as usual because of it, but I don’t know what to do. How do you tell your best friend that you suddenly realized you’re in love with him?”
He doesn’t answer, just reaches over and gives me a hug. I accept it, sighing a little.
Our next week goes over just like that. I don’t avoid James by any means, but I try not to always be alone with him. I do find more opportunities to talk with Remus about it all, though, and it helps. Just to have someone to listen to me as I complain about my feelings. I do the same for him when he has troubles, though mine seem silly in comparison. He always tells me not to compare, though.
Unfortunately, though, as much as those chats help me process my feelings, they don’t help me get over those feelings at all. If anything, they only grow the more I think about James.
It’s super annoying.
Even more annoying is Lily’s smug look when I tell her about my feelings for James. I expected her to be mad at me, but she did something worse: she laughed at me.
“I knew it!”
“How? I didn’t know!”
“Because you are so obvious,” she shakes her head.
I scoff. “I’m clearly not that obvious or else you wouldn’t have told me you had a crush on him.”
“Alright. Fair enough,” she quirks a brow. “But still.”
I roll my eyes, walking over to hug her.
“Sorry about that. If I knew I had a crush on him I wouldn’t have told you to go for him.”
“Sorry back,” she says. “Shouldn’t have gotten mad at you that he told me no.”
“I agree,” I laugh.
She whacks me in the arm, laughing back.
I try to go about my life as usual over the next couple of weeks. There’s no sense in making myself miserable or drawing attention to my small shift in behavior. I find myself still doing most of the same things I always did. Just a bit more carefully.
I sit with the boys at dinner, laughing at their stupid jokes and the plans they have for pranks. I finish my food, pushing the plate away from me, and listening in on a conversation being had between Sirius, Remus, and Peter.
“You know, those three plan on being out all night,” James says quietly, leaning close to me as he watches the three boys talk.
I raise a brow. “Yeah? Doing what?”
“They wanted to just be out of the castle for the night. Think Sirius and Remus are going to the shrieking shack, and Peter is sneaking out to go meet up with some other friends in Hogsmeade, I guess.”
“And you aren’t running off?”
He shakes his head. “Told them I’d stay behind. Thought me and you could have a sleepover. Like old times.”
I chuckle. “It has been a while.”
“I think close to a year. They’re always in my space,” he says, feigning annoyance. “But it’ll just be us tonight, if you want.”
I push down whatever feeling rises in my chest at that and agree, despite my better judgement.
He pulls me into his room that night, immediately going to the foot of his bed, looking at me like he’s about to change my life.
“I brought something a little… fun,” he smiles, opening up his trunk to show me his secret stash of drinks. “Thought we might finally crack it open.”
I laugh. “And you didn’t think to tell me sooner?”
“Hey, we’ve had plenty at the Gryffindor events,” he smiles. “This is just for us. Our secret.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m the greatest.”
We find ourselves on his floor after a few drinks, feeling fuzzy and happy. We talk about nothing for hours, occasionally passing a bottle between us.
“Maybe we should do this more often,” he says, smiling up at the ceiling. “I miss spending time with you like this.”
“We’re always together.”
“You spend a lot of time with Moony lately. Not fair, I want you all to myself,” he chuckles, poking my side.
I laugh, poking him back. “I’m still all yours. Love Moony so much, but you’re still my favorite I think. Now, if Sirius decided to start hanging around me more, then you’d be in trouble.”
He giggles, his cheeks rosy. I watch him carefully, feeling warm in the face myself, but for a different reason.
“You have a really cute laugh,” I say before I can think about it.
He looks at me with a smile, his tongue poking out between his teeth. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
“You’ve never told me that before.”
I shrug. “I should’ve.”
He stares back at me for a moment, giving me a little silly smile. He leans over me, propping himself up with his forehead next to my head. He leans down, much like he did that day we went swimming. But this time I kiss him back. My hand finds his cheek, holding him gently as I let him work his lips against mine. I can’t deny the warmth that spreads over me or the butterflies I feel this time.
This time it lasts for a few minutes, neither of us bothering to pull away. Whether that’s because he actually likes it or because we’re both drunk and don’t know any better, I don’t know. I also don’t care.
He finally pulls away after a little while, still giving me that smile as if he didn’t just take all the air in my lungs away from me.
“We can pretend that one didn’t happen, either,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, unsure what to say. I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen, but I couldn’t tell him that without outing myself. I settle for the way his hand mindlessly reaches for mine as we go back into conversation like nothing ever interrupted us in the first place. Eventually, we move to his bed, preferring the softness of the mattress and pillows over the hard ground.
“Can I ask why you’ve been spending all your time with Remus?” he asks during a lull in the conversation, playing with my fingers as he does.
“Just became better friends recently, I guess,” I say, glancing at him. I admire his face for a moment before snapping out of it. “Some stuff I can talk to him about that I haven’t been able to tell anyone else. It’s been nice to have someone to listen.”
“I could do that for you. You didn’t have to go to him.”
“Not this time, Jamie. It’s… different.”
“How?”
“It just is,” I sigh. “I’ve had too much to drink for us to be having this conversation, James.”
He whines. “Please? I just want to know.”
“No. Maybe I’ll tell you someday, but not now.”
He grumbles, turning over and resting his head on my chest. His arm rests over my stomach. I just hope and pray he doesn’t feel how hard my heart starts beating when he does.
“Play with my hair?” he asks, his voice a little muffled.
“Okay,” I reply softly, running my fingers through his messy hair. “This okay?”
He nods a little. “Mhm. Thanks.”
We don’t wake up until the next morning, still stuck in that same position.
I find myself with Remus again the following night. I sit on a chair, and he lounges on the couch, trying not to judge me for putting myself in that situation. I don’t tell him about the kiss, but he hears about everything else.
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” he says after a beat of silence when I finish explaining. “You either need to tell him, or put some distance between you.”
“I tried that today.”
“I know,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s all James could talk about. Complaining the whole day that you weren’t eating with us or not going to the library when we were.”
“See? I feel like nothing I do is right in this situation,” I say, feeling defeated. “Like, how am I supposed to keep spending time with him like everything’s normal when I’m practically floating every time he so much as looks at me. It’s pathetic. And I can’t just ignore him, cause then he goes and bugs you all.”
“Maybe you just need to—”
“Hey,” James’s voice calls from behind us.
I look at him, noticing the annoyed look on his face. It doesn’t seem like he’s overheard us, but I can’t tell why he looks so irritated. Usually he’d be annoyed if I didn’t bother with them all day, but he looks… mad. I quirk a brow.
“Hey,” I say, confused.
He doesn’t reply, looking a little upset and a little lost. I turn back to Remus after a moment of silence, our conversation effectively being cut short. I stand up quickly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say to Remus, starting to walk past James in order to get to my room.
“What’s going on?” James asks, grabbing my upper arm.
I turn around quickly. “What?”
He clenches his jaw, then looks at Remus. “Moony, we need a minute.”
Remus goes to argue, but drops it quickly when he sees James looking more serious than he ever has. He gets up, giving me a sympathetic look before he heads towards the boys’ dorms. I glare at James as he hasn’t let go of my arm yet.
“Why did you do that?”
“Why are you with him again?”
I scoff. “You mean our friend? Did you ever think maybe we were talking?”
“That’s the problem,” he says, dropping my arm.
“How is that a problem? I’m going through something and he’s just trying to help—”
He sighs harshly, looking around like he’s lost. He looks back at me with his brows furrowed.
“I don’t get it,” he says, practically whining. “You never keep things from me, and now you’re telling Moony all of your secrets and ditching me for him and… And I don’t understand it. We’re supposed to be best friends.”
“We are, Jamie, there’s just some things that I can’t—”
“Why not?” he swallows, tears starting to prick his eyes. “Why can’t you tell me? You never do this. We tell each other everything.”
I freeze for a moment, my mouth drying up as I look at him. I want to reach out for him and hold him and make him feel better. But I also want answers, because it’s his fault that everything got screwed up. He didn’t have to reject Lily. He didn’t have to kiss me when we were swimming. He didn’t have to do it again on his bedroom floor. He didn’t have to treat me like I was the most important person in his life.
“Then tell me why you kissed me,” I blurt out.
He shakes his head a little. “I don’t know.”
“Then figure it out! You don’t just get to kiss me and then act like you just did it for no reason.”
His chest heaved from his breathing, staring at me. His cheeks tinged pink again as he took a moment.
“I—I just wanted to. I don’t know. You were there and you were looking at me like that and you just…” he huffed a sigh. “I just wanted to kiss you.”
“Why?” I asked, frustrated.
“Because,” he said back, his tone matching mine. “Because I always want to kiss you and I slipped up and did it one time—”
“You did it twice!”
“Okay! Two times,” he exclaims. “We promised we would just forget about it.”
“And what exactly is that even supposed to mean?”
“You’re so fucking oblivious,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes. “God, what do I have to do to make you understand that I’m—”
I wait as he stops talking. “That you’re what?”
“I’m in love with you. I have been forever, and you’ve never cared,” he says, letting out a shuddering breath. “And now you’re spending all of your time with Remus. And it’s so embarrassing that I’m sat here hopelessly in love with my best friend of over ten years while she’s running around with another one of our friends.”
“Running around with him? We sit in the common room and talk because you’re fucking infuriating!”
“Oh, so you’re gossiping about me?” he asks, voice raising as mine does once again.
“Not gossiping, just—”
“Just what?”
“I’m in love with you, too, you fucking tosser!”
He looks angry for a few moments, then it switches to confusion, then shock, and possibly the five stages of grief before he finally lands on raised brows and an open mouth.
“You what?” he exclaims.
“You’re so annoying,” I say, groaning. “Yeah, Lily had to go and tell me I was in love with you, and she always has to be fucking right about everything, doesn’t she?”
“Are you listening to yourself right now?” he asks incredulously, furrowing his brows. “You just told me you loved me.”
“I’m aware, James,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Well… Did you mean it?”
“Obviously,” I say, shaking my head at him like it was a dumb question.
“You’re so dumb,” he says under his breath.
Before I can say anything else, he’s moving forward, his hands on my cheeks as he crashes his lips into mine. I melt into him, this kiss being way more passionate than the one we shared the night before. I hold onto his waist, letting him deepen the kiss, though it only lasts for a minute or two after that.
He pulls away. “You’re infuriating. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“You didn’t tell me anything, either!”
“I kissed you twice!”
I roll my eyes. “That doesn’t count. You said we should forget about both times.”
“Only cause I thought that’s what you’d want,” he defends, making an annoyed face.
I try to be angry, but it’s a difficult task. I reach up, running a thumb over his furrowed eyebrows.
“So grumpy,” I mutter. “Just told you I was in love with you. You’d think you’d at least try to be happy.”
He scoffs a laugh, pulling me into a hug, his face buried in my neck.
“I’ve never been happier.”
We hear footsteps coming down a few moments later.
“You owe me ten galleons,” Sirius’s voice says.
I look over James’s shoulder as he keeps holding onto me, not caring that our friends are right there.
“You were betting on us?” I ask.
Sirius nods with a smirk. “And Peter just lost. He thought you’d take until the end of the year to get together. I said it’d be in this term.”
“I didn’t bet,” Remus says from behind Sirius, holding his hands up in surrender with a small smile. “Glad you worked it out, though.”
I smile at them, shaking my head and turning my attention back on James again. He looks at me finally.
“I’m glad, too,” he says quietly. “Think I might’ve combusted if I had to keep pretending I didn’t want you like that.”
“Didn’t do a great job at covering for it, though. Still kissed me twice.”
“You say like you didn’t love it,” he smirks with a wink.
————-> SMUT STARTS HERE. 18+ <-————
James finally pulls away, taking my hand in his.
“Good, now that you’re all out the room, if you’ll excuse us…” he says, pulling me past the boys who all groan in disgust.
I giggle as he practically runs to his room with my hand in his, kissing me the second the door is shut and locked. I smile into the kiss, my arms around his neck. He starts kissing my cheek and jaw after a few minutes.
“Hope you’ve been feeling the tension as much as I have, cause I could probably cum in my pants right now if you asked me to,” he says casually, as if it wouldn’t send a wave of arousal down my body.
“Oh my…” I trail off as he bites at my neck softly. “Are we gonna…?”
He pauses, his eyes wide. “Oh. I probably should’ve asked before I assumed, huh?”
He winces a little at his own excitement, cheeks tinged pink.
“Sorry.”
I smile softly. “That’s okay. I— I want to, I just didn’t know if that’s what the plan was.”
He smiles again brightly, kissing me once more. He giggled against my lips, then starts backing me towards the bed.
“I really do love you. Kind of embarrassing, really. I think I have forever,” he says softly, laying me down on the mattress and crawling over me.
I let out a soft breath. “Embarrassing for me, I think. I didn’t even realize until someone else told me I did.”
He laughs again, starting to kiss down my neck.
“I kind of always wanted you to be my first time, to be honest,” he says against my skin.
I pause, realizing what’s really happening. “Oh. Oh my god.”
“What?” he asks, leaning up to start unbuttoning my shirt.
“Wait, have you never… You haven’t done this either, have you?”
“Not all the way,” he shakes his head, then looks at me with wide eyes. “Is that okay?”
“That’s okay. I haven’t either. Just… You know. I’ve done some hand stuff but that was it.”
He looks at me again, then starts laughing a little. I find myself laughing right back as reality sets in for both of us.
“We’re gonna take each others virginity,” I say, still laughing a little. “Oh my god.”
He snorts a laugh. “Didn’t wake up this morning thinking this would happen, that’s for certain.”
I smile. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he teases, dropping a kiss on the tip of my nose.
I watch as he finishes taking off my shirt, getting up just enough to help him pull it and my camisole off completely. He sits back on his knees, staring at me for a moment.
“You alright, Jamie?”
He nods. “Doing great, love.”
He starts taking off his own shirt, then. As many times as I’d seen his arms and chest, you’d think I wouldn’t still feel amazed seeing him in just his trousers… But I couldn’t stop staring, either. He leaned back in, kissing me again. I let my hands run over his arms and back, having free reign to do so and enjoying it. He nipped at my lip, a little noise leaving me and making him smile against my lips. I do the same to him, both of us ending up grinning at each other again.
“This is nice,” I say quietly. “Doing this with you, it’s nice. I like that we don’t feel like we have to act… sexy.”
“Well, that because it’s never an act for me, love,” he winks with a smirk.
I pull him back down with a giggle, though the smile is wiped from my face when he rolls his hips into mine. Feeling him hard for me for the first time leaves me a little breathless, especially when he’s grinding into me. I small groan leaves me when he does it again.
“Like it when you do that,” he says into my ear, doing it again just to get another reaction out of me. “I like those little sounds you make. So pretty.”
I find myself breathing heavily, my hands squeezing between our bodies to start unbuckling his belt. He gets the hint and sits up, pulling it off himself.
“Get out of those, yeah?” he says, nodding at my bottoms as he works himself out of his.
I comply immediately, shimmying out of my trousers and tossing them onto the ground. He gets back on top of me as soon as we’re both one layers closer to what we really want. I let my hand slide into his underwear as he stars kissing at my neck again, letting out a shuddering breath when I finally feel him. He whimpers into my neck as I start stroking him, rutting his hips into my hand.
“Feel so good, love,” he says, voice whiny and desperate.
I groan back, especially as one of his hands slides under the band of my panties to slip a finger into me. I feel myself growing hotter, kissing him and swallowing the moans he lets out as my hand keeps working him over.
“Shit, Jamie,” I moan as he adds a second finger.
“Good for you?” he breathes out.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly. “Yes. Very.”
I whine as he gets me closer to the edge, his hips doing all the work as my hand stopped moving up and down his length. He adds pressure to my clit with his thumb, sending me careening over the edge with praises and his name on my lips.
He pulls his hand away from me suddenly.
“Can’t wait any longer, love,” he says, voice wrecked.
He slides my panties off my legs as I take my bra off. Then, I watch with wide eyes as he pulls his underwear off, his cock bigger than I was expecting by far. I knew he felt big, but seeing him was entirely different.
“Fuck,” I say, staring at him. “Don’t know if I can take that, Jamie.”
“Yeah, you can, love,” he nods, settling between my legs and kissing me softly. “You can take it, baby.”
He pushes himself up just enough for both of us to see him rubbing his head through my slick before prodding at my entrance. He starts pushing in slowly. I let out a loud groan, my eyes shutting.
“Shh, just relax, love,” he says, lips hovering over mine. “You’re doing so good. Taking it so well, baby.”
He whimpers against my lips as he keeps pushing in slowly.
“So big, Jamie,” I moan, watching him disappear inside of me.
“I know, baby,” he says, a few more little noises spilling from his mouth. “I know, but you’re being so good. My good girl.”
He bottoms out, both of us panting and holding onto each other as I adjust to the new feeling. It hurts a little, but not in a bad way. Especially when he starts moving. That bit of pain makes way for a lot of pleasure once he starts rocking into me at a steady pace, whining and moaning into my ear.
“S’good, Jamie. You feel so good,” I say, trying to catch my breath.
“So good for me, baby. Squeezing me nice,” he whines, pinning me down under the weight of his body. “Good girl. So proud of you taking me so well.”
“Gonna cum again,” I say, feeling it building in my stomach again.
“Me too, baby. Just a little more,” he says, pressing his face into my neck again. “Don’t want to be done so soon, but you feel so perfect. You’re so good for me.”
I moan at his ramblings of praise, his words only causing me to get closer to that peak again. I hold onto him tightly, my body wrapped around his as he fucks into me like we’d done it a million times before. I speak his name over and over and over again as I crash down, my eyes rolling back from the intensity of the orgasm, and the fact that he doesn’t stop fucking me through it.
Though, near the end of my peak, he moans out a hundred more praises, my name falling from his lips as I feel him fill me up with his cum. He whimpers again against my skin as he finishes, not stopping the movement of his hips until he’s visibility overstimulated.
We breathe heavily, holding onto one another tightly as we come down from our highs, his hair sticking to his forehead as he leans in to kiss me softly again.
“Holy shit,” he whispers. “You’re perfect.”
I breathe out, a small smile on my face. “You… Yeah. Oh my god. I thought the first time was supposed to be bad.”
“It was perfect for me. But I barely lasted, it couldn’t have been that great for you,” he says, looking a little disappointed that he might not have done a good job for me.
I shake my head. “You still made me come harder than I ever have. You were incredible, Jamie. I mean it.”
He smiles softly. “I’m gonna have to kick them out of here more often. I might be addicted now.”
“And we have more things to try,” I add. “Can’t let this happen only once a week or something. Too much to figure out, I think.”
He giggles again. “Like what?”
“I’d really like you in my mouth next time.”
His smile drops. He starts nodding quickly. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll kick them out at two in the morning if you ask. Whatever you want.”
I laugh, pulling him into another kiss.
“Now, we have to figure out that contraceptive spell, or else we might be in some trouble,” I say with a smile.
“Sorry about that,” he smirks, clearly not sorry. “I’m sure Sirius knows it.”
“Please. As if he isn’t fucking Remus whenever those two run off to the shrieking shack.”
James’s eyes widen. “What?”
I snort a laugh.
“And you called me the oblivious one.”
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