#it just wasn’t…fantastical enough | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reidmotif · 9 days

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Dialing up for Trouble

Summary: Reader and Spencer were fuck-buddies, until Spencer cuts her off quite suddenly. A party and some risque images may be enough to get them back to their old routine.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: semi-public sex, sexting, mentions of nude images and descriptions of generic lingerie, masturbation (f!receiving), penetrative sex, semi-dom!spencer

Word Count: 3.5 k

Masterlist

Clichés bothered me. There was no other way to put it. I’d grown up hating the likes of love triangles, meet-cutes, chosen ones, and right now, I was being reminded more than ever of that hatred because, what the fuck?

“Too much of a good thing” was the reasoning Spencer had cited when he proposed we stop sleeping together casually, and return to our previous relationship of “just coworkers”. I’d let him know how ridiculous I found his sentiment, and attempted every possible method to continue our secret rendezvous, but he was absolutely dead-set on his decision, it seemed.

No more sex. No more late-night calls. None of it. It was all over. All because of a cliche.

We seemed to agree on one thing, and that was, yes. The sex was fantastic. It really was that good. While I’d never wish weariness on Spencer Reid, I couldn’t deny that in the aftermath of stress and frustration from whatever life had chosen for him, the way he’d deal with that was absolutely electrifying for me.

I’d find myself constantly breathless, pulled into hotel rooms, storage closets- anything resembling the barest hint of privacy, and allow him to use me as he saw fit. I gave him complete trust and control over my body, and in turn, he rewarded me with some incredibly life-changing orgasms. And for what it’s worth, he seemed to get an equal amount of satisfaction out of our hidden trysts, which only made his recent decision that more devastating.

It’d been roughly a month since we’d had sex, or anything resembling the sort, and I found myself absolutely deprived. When the FBI gave out invitations to its semi-annual gala, I imagined the festivities would be enough to distract me, but I was completely in error for assuming so. Amidst drinks and conversations, there was the occasional lull where I couldn’t help but absentmindedly imagine the feel of his hands over my skin, squeezing the fat of my hips. His lips trailing up and down my neck, focusing on spots only he knew about. The way his hair would tickle against my thighs when he’d bury his head-

“Hey.”

The voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I have to remind myself not to choke on my beverage. There he was. The current subject of my thoughts, standing in front of me, live and in the flesh. Spencer Reid.

“Hey.” I mirror back, taking a sip of my drink, acting as lax as I could, given the circumstances. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, gesturing to the party in front of us, the general ambience.

“You know me.” He replies, pausing for a second, keeping his gaze trained on mine. “Not my scene but.. doable.”

I chuckle for a moment, understanding perfectly. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most social guy out there. I was honestly surprised he’d chosen to come to this thing at all in the first place.

“You look nice.” He says, suddenly. “Your dress. It’s nice.” He rushes out the words, as if he’s scared to say them in the first place.

I smooth down the fabric instinctively, nodding. I try not to let the compliment affect me so much, keeping my head down for a split second to hide the creeping heat emanating from my cheeks.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

I surprise myself with my own answer. The silence for that tick is horrible. I appreciate it? Jesus. I couldn’t think of the right words anymore. The correct and witty response that would allow this conversation to flow smoothly.

I truly wanted to fuck this man so bad, it made me look stupid.

And stupid I was, because yet again, I attempted to test the current parameters of our relationship he’d put us on. I swallow my pride, lifting my head to meet his eyes with mine.

“If you like it so much, you could- you know. Take it off.” I say, biting my lip. There’s a light tease in my voice, but it’s obvious I’m being as forthcoming as I possibly could. No games. No jokes. I didn’t want to dance around it, and I hoped my boldness would reward me as it did previously in the past.

But no, it seems that fortune does not favor the bold, because Spencer’s immediate response was to shake his head, lowering his voice. He pulled on my arm to decrease our proximity, to the point where it was ensured no passer-bys could possibly hear our conversation.

“Come on.” He pleads, almost looking desperate. “I told you we should stop- hasn’t that worked out? We can be coworkers. This works.”

I roll my eyes, letting my displeasure show plainly over my face. “This works?” I say, and the sarcasm is clear in my voice. “Sex worked too, you know.”

“I know it did!” He says, in a hushed whisper. “But- we can’t. No. It’s not right. Too much of a-”

“If you finish that sentence, I swear to god.” I say, my expression turning much more volatile. I forcibly shrug his arm off me. “This is stupid.” I continue, trying not to let my voice rise. “I see the way you look at me. I know it was good for both of us. I know you’re thinking about it just as much as I am, so why not!” There’s a hint of hurt in my voice as well. Underneath all the sex, I’d grown to miss the interactions after. The giggles under covers and the feel of his hair in my fingers. I missed him. All of him.

There’s a miserable pause on his end, and I hold my breath waiting for his next words. Spencer sputters, looking absolutely defeated. “Because- because we just can’t, okay?” He replies, helplessly, stepping back from me, as I’d done with him. “Look. I’m just going to enjoy the rest of the party, okay? Take care of yourself, yeah?”

Before I can get in another word, demanding a real explanation from the man, he leaves me alone, replaying the words of his confusing outburst in my mind.

I take a short time to myself, electing to go use the restroom and take a breather from the party, a bit on edge after our exchange. Was it possible he was completely fine with what the loss of our arrangement had done to us? Was I the only one absolutely losing my mind? Any attempt to diverge my attention from the topic proved futile, and I remained in the closed room, mindlessly adjusting myself in the mirror with no real rhyme or reason. There’s an eventual use of my phone, focusing the camera directly on my face to make sure nothing had smudged or looked off on my face in the time I’d last checked my makeup. In the use of the device, I remembered the pictures I’d taken before coming here.

The pictures weren’t meant to serve any true purpose. I’d bought new lingerie for this dress, as my previous bras weren’t suited to the cut and shape of the specific piece of clothing, and decided to take a few pictures for myself. It was lacy, and pretty, but nothing truly special. The bra had a slight push-up effect, and the panties were a bit cheekier than my normal, day-to-day undergarments. The actual lingerie was innocent- harmless, even. Looking at the images right now, though, a salacious idea creeped into my head.

Under the right circumstances, these could be exactly the catalyst to finally receiving what I wanted.

I open the messaging app on my phone, finding Spencer’s contact, and beginning to type out a simple message.

hey.

The response is immediate.

What’s up?

You good?

Where’d you go?

I laugh a little. I imagined him scanning the crowd for me, trying to figure out where I’d gone off to.

all good, don’t worry

so we’re still sticking to the no sex thing?

I see his typing bubble pop up, then pause. Then starts up again.

Yes.

Trust me, it’s for the better.

I groan internally. Of course he thinks that. Always thinks he knows what’s good for everyone.

trust me

if you knew what i had planned for us

you wouldn’t say that

I feel my phone vibrate in my hand, indicating he was now calling me? I hadn’t planned for this.

“Spencer?” I remark, waiting for his voice on the line.

“What do you mean?” He says, quickly. I can no longer hear the bustle of the party in the background, so it’s only reasonable to assume he’s moved somewhere quieter. Still, I ask.

“Are you around other people?” I murmur, keeping my voice low.

“No. Alone. What did you mean by your last message?” He repeats, quickly.

There’s my in. I respond, feigning an unmistakable innocence in my voice. “Mind if I show you?”

“Show me?” The confusion in his voice is palpable.

“Show you.” I reply, more definitively. “Check your messages.”

I bring my phone away from my ear, electing to send the first picture I saw in my camera roll, which prominently featured my breasts- a feature of mine I knew Spencer was quite interested in. I return to the call, my heart pounding wildly.

“Did you see?” I ask, hesitantly, when all I can hear is his breathing on the other line.

The response is a choked out, breathy mess of a sentence. “Yeah- I did. Jesus.”

“Want more?” I murmur, biting my lip as the realization dawned on me that this possibly had a chance of working.

There’s a delay in his words on the line, before I finally hear:

“Yes. God, yes.”

I grin ear-to-ear, beginning to send an assortment of pictures I’d taken previously in the day. Knowing this was having an effect on him, that somewhere in this party Spencer was sitting alone, his gaze trained on his phone intently, did something to me. He was behaving this way because of my body, because of what I could do to him.

It was hard not to get wet at the thought.

“You look so good.” He breathes out, and the desire in his voice is unmistakable.

“Yeah?” I mumble to the speaker. “You think so?”

“Mhm.” He murmurs. “You’re wearing this right now?” He asks, seemingly needing that confirmation at this moment.

“In all its glory.” I try not to giggle before murmuring teasingly, “What, you wanna see?”

“Where are you?” He asks, suddenly seeming very determined. I can hear the shuffling on the other line, indicating he was now starting to move from where he was currently situated. He was completely, and utterly serious about this.

“Bathroom, on the left corridor of the entrance.” I say, feeling exhilarated at the thought of him meeting me here. This was happening.

Finally.

“Stay.” He replies, and the call cuts.

There’s an impatient itch that creeps up on me during the two-minute wait for him, before I hear a solid knock on the door, and my name being whispered through the door, belonging to a voice I’d grown so accustomed to and fond of.

My fingers undo the lock, opening it just enough so that he could squeeze through without drawing too much attention to ourselves right now.

And as soon as he’s managed in, he’s practically on me, devouring me with a kiss with a passion I’d never felt from him before. My hands go to wrap around his neck, pressing our bodies flush against each other, every ragged breath of his shooting directly to my core, which was now throbbing with need.

“Fuck. Missed this so much.” He breathes out, gasping for air in between our kisses. I couldn’t so much as get a whimper out, before he’d dive right in again. It’s like he wanted to eat me alive.

And I’d let him.

I moan softly into his mouth, starved for more contact between us. It’s as if he can read my mind, because in an instant, he guides us from the center of the bathroom, towards a wall, slotting his thigh between my legs. He takes a momentary break from ravishing me with his lips, now adopting a slower, more sensual pace as he works down my neck, each soft kiss leaving me craving him even more.

His hands drift down to my hips, keeping me pinned against the wall as he murmured soft praises. My legs felt wobbly, absolutely taken aback by how quickly I could go weak for this man.

“You like this, mm?” He mumbles, letting his teeth nip over the lobe of my ear, before switching to a more neglected side of my neck. “Like me that much, mm?”

I don’t care about the cockiness in his tone. I don’t care how smug I render him. I just need him to continue this, for as long as I can have him.

“Yes.” I breathe out, my voice higher-pitched than it normally would be. “God. Love this so much.”

There’s a flash of hesitance from him, as he pulls his face away from my neck, staring at my eyes with his own. I can’t dwell on the pause, because for once, I’m finally seeing him. His hair was absolutely ruined, sticking up wildly in different directions. His cheeks were a light pink, serving to make his features even prettier and doe-like than before. But what got me were his eyes. His pupils were blown out, the normal honey-hazel I’d seen on a daily basis replaced with an absolute abyss of black. The darkness served to cause a surge within me, practically launching forward to meet his lips with mine.

There are no words required for what happens next, as I feel his hand creep up my back, pulling me away from the wall and towards the closest surface, which happened to be the sink. He guides me to bend over, and I do so with no resistance.

He could have me, whichever way he wanted, whenever he wanted. All I needed was his touch.

I can feel him crouch to his knees, slowly reaching under my dress to hook his fingers around my panties, slowly pulling them down. I can feel a string of my arousal clinging to the fabric, and it seems Spencer can too, because he practically moans as he drags the soiled piece of lingerie down my thighs. I step out of them quickly, and turn my head back, fast enough to see him stuff the proof of our debauchery down his suit pocket.

“Eyes ahead.” He whispers, leaning down close to my ear to nip at the sensitive flesh again.

“Okay.” I murmur, slipping into a more submissive version of myself that he seemed to bring out in me. There’s a sense of relaxation and excitement all at the same time, and I’m absolutely wracked with lust for him.

His fingers stroke my clit for a moment, applying pressure in just the right way. The movements are practiced, precise and guaranteed to hurl me off the edge if he continues this way.

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He murmurs, almost amazed, letting his fingers slip away. “All this for me?”

I can barely respond, whimpering and nodding. “Yes. Please- Spencer.” I beg, needily.

“I know, I know.” He replies, and I can hear how pleased he is. There’s a certain delight he derives from my submission, and while in any other circumstance, the smugness he displays would turn me off, right now it only served to further my hunger.

I can feel him start to work on his belt, sliding the coarse material of his dress pants just enough, so that his cock could spring free. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, his tip sliding through my folds, and I clench at the thought of him finally being inside of me.

Just when I believed his teasing to be done, there’s a knock at the door, and we both freeze. Spencer swallows, and quickly raises his voice. “Occupied!”

There’s silence, and that previous sense of lust and content drifts back into our bodies, Spencer’s fingers trace up to my face, and he lets his finger slip into my mouth. I can taste my arousal on his fingers, and there’s a genuine struggle on my end to stay upright. How could I, when the man behind me rendered me so indisposed?

He draws his fingers out of my mouth. “Good girl.” He whispers.

It seems the universe has other plans though, because yet again- a knock sounds at the door. I can hear Spencer’s groan, and watch through the mirror as he attempts to come up with a response that would give us the seclusion we required.

My patience however, had worn thin. His cock was right there, and I’d be damned if I was forced to wait any longer. I turn my head towards the door, complacency and submission gone from my voice.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to fuck him in here!” I say, snarking out the words.

There’s a silence, and a murmur of mortification on the other side of the door. Footsteps. And then at last, silence.

Spencer quickly leans down to kiss my cheek, mumbling out an “I love you.”

Before I can even comprehend the words, he’s guiding himself into me, sliding his cock through my walls, and I have to bite my lip to keep a scream in. He feels so fucking good inside of me, stretching me out in ways no man ever could. I can feel the underside of his cock hitting that spongy spot deep inside of me, and my breathing turns rapid in mere seconds.

“There we go, relax for me baby, yeah?” He mumbles. “Nice and slow.”

I moan out my affirmative, gripping onto the sink as I let my jaw drop, eyes squeezing in absolute ecstasy. “So good for me.” He murmurs. “So warm and wet, Jesus.”

And with that, he starts a pace that works for both of us. It’s hard and fast, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The feel of his cock gliding through my puffy walls is intoxicating, and I can only wonder how I went so long without feeling it.

It seems Spencer’s having similar thoughts, because through my moans and his occasional groans, I can feel his grip on my hips get more bruising by the second, marking me as his own. I can hear occasional fragments of words through his noises.

“Never letting you go. Oh fuck. Fuck.” He mumbles, and despite the overwhelming amount of arousal shooting through me, my heart swells.

“Me too.” I whimper out, gripping the sink even harder. I can feel my wetness seeping all around us, splashing against my thighs with every movement he drives into me. “Need you so badly.”

“Rub your clit for me.” He demands, whispering out the words. “Need to see you come on my cock first, pretty girl.” The words are strained, and I can tell he’s doing everything to keep from spilling inside of me prematurely.

There’s no reason to temporize, and my fingers make their way down to the sensitive bundle of nerves, and the effect is almost immediate. It takes roughly a minute of my incessant rubbing and the feel of him inside me before I’m coming with a soft shout, growing limp against the sink as my muscles twitch and fill me with a deep sense of relief and satisfaction.

Spencer isn’t far behind me, humping into me a few more times before coming inside of me, the release signified with a loud moan and a sense of warmth flooding my deepest point. He slumps against my back, pressing a few, soft kisses to my neck.

As we both come down from our highs, I recall the words Spencer mumbled in my ear previously. I let out a self-satisfied giggle, which Spencer smiles at.

“Mm. What’s that about?” He murmurs.

“You love me?” I ask, softly.

A pause.

“A little.” He responds, voice equally as soft.

“Is that why you stopped having sex with me?” I mumble out, gently.

He presses another kiss to the nape of my neck. “Mhm. Please don’t be mad.”

I let out a soft chuckle. “Not mad. The opposite, really.”

He pulls me up, causing us both to look at each other. “You feel the same way?”

I nod, biting my lip. “We could try this out, I think. I want to, Spencer.”

I stop, and decide I do need to tease him a bit, especially after the sex-less agony he put me through for a month.

“Though, I do recall someone telling me too much of a good thing can go bad..”

His lips part in confusion, before he picks up the teasing nature of my words and leans in for a soft, simple kiss. He keeps his forehead on mind, his eyes staring into mine with a gentle reverence.

“Let’s indulge just this once.”

holy shit has it been a long time since i've written a fic!! i'm so sorry?! i've been dealing with life and other assorted things and writing sort of took a backseat in that period of time <3 i hope this was okay. as usual any feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are so so greatly appreciated. i love writing for spencer, and i hope you guys like that writing too <3 i'm sorry that the two previous fics i promised seem to be delayed, i swear i'm gonna write those next, but inspiration sort of just struck on my end f or this, and i hope it was good <3 but yeah!! thank you so much for reading and interacting with this in any way you choose!! i appreciate it greatly!!

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e-m-ma-lmfao · 3 months

Note

Can you write something for Sephiroth(pre-nibelheim) or Astarion? Your work is absolutely fantastic btw I’m in love with it ❤️❤️❤️

Not So Subtle

pairing : sephiroth x female!reader

summary : you have a teenage girl level crush on him, that you and zack talk (very loudly) about when you think no one can hear. but he does.

a/n : this takes place pre-nibelheim so everyone is happy and well! in honour of ff7 rebirth :)

“Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” You snap your jaw shut, eyes moving to glare at the young, dark haired boy who has decided to break your daydream.

“It wasn’t even open.” He plops down beside you, shoulder touching yours.

“Mhm.. and you weren’t drooling over our superior.”

“Your superior,” you correct, eyebrow lifted with pointed sarcasm. If you could stick your tongue out at him, without it seeming childish to everyone around you, you would.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t a first class soldier either,” He points out, amused. Your elbow makes contact with his arm, and his hand reaches to cover the area as he laughs.

Zack was younger than you, though he certainly never acted like there was an age gap. In his mind, you were the same age as him in some way or another. You had always trained together so you felt much closer in age even though you were at least 3 years older than him. At times, he felt like a younger brother to you.

Even more so when he found out you had a crush on the man he spent everyday training beside. Constant teasing, constant threats to spill your secrets, constant blackmail. You couldn’t even count the amount of times he had used your crush to his advantage on one hand.

There was a time you had to put your foot down and tell him no more, cause it was wrong of course. But also mostly cause you were running out of money to buy his silence.

“Yeah but I'm older, closer to his age. So I don't have to talk to him like I'm below him, unlike some people.”

“Can you even talk to him?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you sitting here staring..?”

“He’s training..”

“Mhm.” The look on his face tells you he’s not convinced. Right now, it was the truth, Sephiroth was swinging his sword in the domed combat simulator, glass walls clear enough for you to see through. So the excuse of not being able to talk to him, out of fear of being sliced in half by his giant sword, was plausible.

But any other time that you had sat staring at him, making no effort to speak to him, rendered that excuse inapplicable.

“Shut it..” You push his shoulder with your elbow once more, and he snorts out a laugh.

“I don’t get why you can’t just talk to him..”

“Of course you don’t.. because you're obviously blind. Or you’ve been hit in the head one too many times in combat training.” You turn your gaze away from Zack to look back through the glass enclosing Sephiroth.

His hair is tied up, hanging loosely against his back. It’s a rare sight, so you indulge yourself and stare a second longer than you should. It’s so relaxed, you think, compared to the seriousness of always having it pristinely down. There are stray hairs, flyaways, falling from the hair tie and hanging against his face. It’s unkempt, a nice contrast to his seemingly perfect lifestyle.

He swings his sword with calculated grace, a grace that you (or Zack for that matter) had yet to achieve. The control he held over his blade was impeccable, it never slipped or moved from his hold even when his hands were moving faster than his body could keep up with. Just another thing that had to be perfect in his life.

“How could I ever speak to him and not make a fool out of myself? For one, he’s first class, I'd totally ruin my chances of making first class if I said something totally outrageous. And knowing me, my mind would be so jumbled, I wouldn't even realize the words had left my mouth before he put me on some kind of ‘do not promote’ list.”

“Oh so.. the only reason you won’t talk to him is because you're worried about making first class? Not.. I don’t know, maybe, the 12-year-old-girl-level crush you have on him.” Your hand slaps over his lips, eyes scanning around you. For the most part, no one looks at the two of you, and you figure the ones that are looking are doing so because of your hand covering Zacks blabbermouth.

“Would you shut it?” Even with your hand covering his mouth, he manages to laugh at your widened eyes. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are a dead giveaway of his amusement. You remove your hand with a pointed look, one that says ‘keep it down’ in a far more subtle way than a hand over his face.

“You’re so lucky you’re younger than me.”

“More like so lucky you don’t want to make your boyfriend angry. Besides, you know I’m stronger than you.”

“Mhm..” You roll your eyes, and with a sigh, you turn back to face Sephiroth. He stands still now and you realize all of the practice dummies have been broken. From your position, he doesn't even seem to have broken a sweat, even though he’s been in there for over an hour. His sword lies on the ground, thrown without care.

Even with Zack beside you, and the silent teasing that exudes from his body, your eyes remain trained on Sephiroth. You realize it’s childish, to stare and never approach, but the idea of even standing next to him is enough to intimidate you.

He runs his hand over his back, pulling the hair tie from his hair, allowing it to fall against his shoulders once more. He turns, presumably to leave the combat simulated, and his eyes meet yours through the glass. You knew your staring wasn’t subtle, it had never been before, but you had never expected to get caught. You had never been caught.

You turn your head away so fast that Zack almost flinches, probably thinking you were going to hit him again.

“Jesus,” he looks at you with confusion, “What’s the problem?”

“He saw me.”

“What?”

“He saw me! Through the glass! He totally caught me staring at him..” You stare at Zack with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, before you head falls into your lap in shame.

“Would you relax? I guarantee he doesn’t care or he didn’t even see you. Maybe he was just looking at his reflection.”

You look back towards Sephiroth to see him leaving through the doors of the dome, and then you turn back to Zack with a pitiful whine.

“This is so pathetic…”

“I agree,” he smiles when you shoot him a glare, “Just talk to him.”

“Talk to who?” A deep voice sounds from beside you, higher up than where you sit. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stick up, and Zack's expression is enough to confirm your suspicion about who stands next to you.

You turn your head to face Sephiroth, and he stares at you expectantly. You think you catch the slightest smirk building on the corner of his lips, but you also think you might just be trying to make yourself feel better. Standing, nowhere close to his height, you hold your hands up. Zack takes this as his sign to stand too.

“Nobody! Angeal!” You fumble out words, trying to throw out a name before he grows suspicious.

“Well which is it, nobody? or Angeal?”

“Angeal. Yeah! Angeal, so.. um.. I should probably go find him.”

“It just so happens that I have to find Angeal too, allow me to join you.”

You want to throw the nearest chair at Zack, curse him for speaking so loudly. And you curse yourself for not thinking of an excuse in a reasonable time frame, so you just nod, and excuse yourself from Zack.

He gives you a pitiful smile, and when you turn to look behind you for support one last time as you walk away he gives you a thumbs up. His face contradicts his hands, and he seems like he’s in a far less teasing mood.

“Whatever you have to say to him, it must be important.”

“Hm?” You tilt your head up and to the side to look at Sephiroth, you’ve been walking together for a few minutes now, mostly silently.

“You're walking fast.” You shrug your shoulders and continue walking.

At least until your steps are interrupted by him stepping in front of you.

“Is there a problem?”

“What? Of course not!” He practically glares down at you, arms crossed over his muscular chest. You can see the outline of his defined chest muscles through the straps of his top. And you realize you're practically drooling over him, right in front of him so you force your eyes to meet his once more. But his glare is replaced by a smirk, and amusement in his eyes.

“I see now..”

“See what?”

“Really? Do you think you’re subtle?” Your face flushes and once again you want the floor to open up and consume you whole, but you're stuck here.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Step back, you scream at yourself, but he moves closer and it’s impossible to move your feet. They feel like lead underneath you, not even giving way to a small shuffle backwards.

“No?” His hand reaches up to rest on your cheek, it's gentle, far gentler than you would’ve expected. But the way his fingers tense against your skin has you feeling fuzzy, “You think I don’t notice the way you stare? Hm?”

He stares at you, thumb moving to the other side of your chin, holding your face in his hand. He maneuvers your face, moving it however he likes. You realize he’s examining the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips part like you want to say something. His tongue gives a humiliating click when your lips close, and the words are lost.

“I hear you, when you talk to Zack,” he stops his movement, stilling your face to look directly at him, “You’ve never been a quiet girl. Why are you so quiet now?”

When you don’t respond his eyebrows scrunch, its subtle and almost missable because it’s gone in seconds. He’s not satisfied by your silence.

Sephiroth bends his shoulders, moving closer to your face, “Although, I suppose you’ve never been very talkative around me.” He moves closer still, swerving his nose to the side of your face until he’s able to speak in your ear, “That’s not very nice. You might hurt my feelings if you keep ignoring me.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out meekly, you're honestly not even sure it’s audible at first but he laughs quietly, breath fanning on your ear. His other hand, the one that doesn’t hold your face, reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before he pulls away. The breath that leaves your body is almost embarrassing.

“What’re you sorry for, hm?” He stares expectantly down at you, eyes never leaving yours.

“F…for ignoring you.”

“So you ignore me?”

“No!”

“So you’re lying?” You shake your head as much as you can within the hold of his fingers, “Then what are you sorry for?”

“For not talking to you.”

“And why don’t you talk to me, I'm sure you know it’s rude to stare and never speak to someone.”

“Because..” His grip loosens, hand moving back to your cheek, thumb resting on your cheek bone.

“Because why? Cmon use your voice, the one you use to talk about me with Zack.”

You stare up at him pitifully, and the way words fumble from your mouth has you wanting to throw up, “Because I have this stupid crush on you, and I can't talk to you without getting nervous. I know it’s stupid and I should have told you sooner so you could reject me and I could move on and I never meant to offend you or-”

You hadn’t realized he had gotten so close until his nose touches yours, top lip brushing against yours as he tips your chin up towards him. Your words fall flat on your tongue when you meet his eyes, or rather when you see his eyes that are focused on your lips.

“Offend me.. that’s sweet..” He’s so close to you, that every word has his lips brushing against your own again and again.

“Sephiroth..?” You suppress the urge to move the tiniest bit forward so your lips can fully meet his. And you're sure your face is impossibly red.

“You should’ve told me about this ‘stupid’ crush sooner, such a foolish girl. May I?” You're confused, what is he asking for? His eyes flicker up to yours before moving back to your lips. When you realize what he means you nod your head perhaps too eagerly.

Slowly, to tease, his lips press against yours, palm pressing into the skin of yours to keep you in place. Eyes fluttering closed, your hands find his chest, silently screaming about the position you’ve found yourself in.

His lips overpower yours in every regard, moving languidly against you. His other hand reaches up to the free side of your face, fingers tickling the skin on your neck and thumb resting on your jaw.

When he pulls away you can only look at him with half lidded eyes, dazed.

Al he does is chuckle, rubbing your cheek with his thumb and patting your head. One hand holds the back of your head, leaning down to kiss your temple, before stepping behind you, “Don’t be so shy from now on. Maybe we’ll end up here again.”

His steps echo through the empty hall as he walks away.

“Wait… wait.. I thought you had to go see Angeal?” You turn, taking one step in his direction, then stopping yourself in your tracks hesitantly.

“I didn’t. And I know you didn’t either.” He only turns his cheek towards you to speak and then continues on down the hallway, tall and brooding.

#x reader #oneshot #drabble #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth #ff7 #sephiroth ff7 #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy vii #female reader #fem reader

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some-bunniii · 4 months

Text

Lucifer confessing to an artist reader

・❥ Lucifer gets jealous, and has to prove his love for you

x: WOW this was a rollercoaster to write. Alastor being petty, a musical number, and.. 😏 you’ll have to read and see!

warnings: Mild swearing

“Mreow?”

You stirred slightly under the covers in your bed, waking from the noise. You were so warm and cozy, in your little nest of pillows that you hugged to your chest. Stilling yourself, you strained your ears, listening for whatever had awoken you.

“Mreooow,” came that needy, animalistic cry again.

“KeeKee?” You whispered hoarsely.

A high-pitched chirp answered your question.

Grumbling in protest, you grasped the sheets and pulled them from your face. Squinting at the morning light emanating from the large windows on the other end of the room.

You rubbed a hand down your face, in an attempt to squeeze out the exhaustion still fogging your mind. With a sigh, you pivoted, placing your feet on the cold, wood floor beneath.

Now where was that furball?

You scanned the room, before your eyes landed on the small black and white cyclopean cat. She sat on your nightstand, her tail swishing with happiness as you answered her call.

“You silly kitty, what do you want so early in the morning?” You questioned her, and received another chirp as a response.

You always found it fascinating that the small feline was actually the key to the hotel, created by Lucifer’s magic as a gift to Charlie when she took over the place.

You could feel it, even now, that warm crackle of energy as it flowed off KeeKee’s fur. It was faint, but so familiar. If you buried her face in her fur far enough, you could even smell traces of his scent.

As you and Lucifer grew closer, so did KeeKee. She had started following around the hotel, always a few steps behind as you traveled the halls. This morning routine of hers wasn’t new either. Before, you’d open your door and find her sprawled out on the ground on her back, her belly exposed as she greeted you.

You started leaving your door cracked after that, allowing her to enter whenever she pleased. She’d make her bed on the same cushion Lucifer was so fond of while you painted, and drift into sleep.

Sometimes, you’d use her for practice sketches. Although you could only do so while she dreamed, as she was not as good at sitting still as Lucifer was.

It was almost as if she sensed the connection between the two of you, mirroring your bond with her own loyalty. With a soft smile, you reached out to pet KeeKee, feeling the comforting vibrations of her purrs resonating through your fingertips.

Rising from the bed, you made your way into the small bathroom. Twisting the sink handle, you let the fountain of water flow into the drain as it is heated.

Your eyes landed on the object next to the faucet, and you smiled unconsciously as you picked up the yellow rubber ducky.

“Your new soap dispenser,” Lucifer had stated one evening, “Easily compactible to take it on the go and.. with the scent of apple pie.”

He demonstrated by softly squeezing the sides of the toy, and a small glob of soap left its mouth and landed into the palm of his hand.

You had taken it from him and lifted it to your nose, inhaling a deep breath.

“Delectable.” You teased, before placing it on the table beside you.

After his little performance at the art studio, Lucifer’s affection towards you grew bolder by the day. He often arrived at your room with a gift or two, even more than his silly little ducks.

Once, he brought you a small violin, the color pure angelic white with golden strings. You had stared at it in awe when he set it on the table.

“It’s white for you to paint,” Lucifer had explained, “Whatever little fantastical ideas you have to cover this instrument with, I just know it’ll be amazing.”

You had blushed, before letting your fingers glide across its smooth surface. Tracing its frame, memorizing its shape.

“I was going to get you a fiddle, like my own. But, I believe this best suits the musical pieces you are so familiar with.”

You sat across from each other at the dining table in your room, arms resting lazily on its surface as you sipped from your glass of Spiced Apple Wine.

That was another gift he had brought you. Claiming he only enjoyed the taste of fine-aged wine from his personal cellar. You had gotten used to its slightly sour taste by now, but you were glad for that slight pinch on your tongue. It kept you from ogling Lucifer for too long.

The only light emanating from your room was the candles placed around you, their flames dancing, casting shadows across the walls. The soft ting of piano keys thrummed in the air, flowing from a small brown radio on your dresser.

Not too long ago, Alastor had given it to you for your personal use. A very rare gift from a demon like him. You had just assumed it was his way of getting you on his side, your unease of him must’ve been apparent enough.

Your years of attempted swindling by potential buyers for your pieces created a sixth sense, the ability to smell when someone’s words didn’t echo their intentions.

Even though you had no animosity towards him, and spoke to him frequently enough that you did not feel any kind of negative intentions from him, his mysterious past and psychopathic tendencies struck you as odd. His presence was dark and cold.

Nothing like Lucifer’s, who’s aura was so warm and energetic you could get drunk off of it.

Alastor’s? That would sober you up in an instant.

Why didn’t you feel the same about Lucifer? After all, he had the same charm that swooped those around him off their feet.

‘His ability to love,’ you concluded in your head, ‘that was why.’

He showed deep care for the people close to him, while Alastor always held people at arms-length. Literally and figuratively.

Your personal feelings didn’t mean you weren’t going to use the radio, so whenever you’d hear Lucifer nearing your room, you’d switch it to polka. Learning by now that was one of his favorite genres. It played in the background as you discussed the violin.

“I think it’s best if you taught me how to play, I might have some knowledge on musical history, but that doesn’t mean I know anything about the instruments themselves.” You had conceded.

He shook his head at that, “Nonsense. If there is anyone I know that could pick up skills like this quickly, it would be you.”

“What makes you think that?” You had laughed.

“Because, you’re amazing. Talented, with passion that could take on the world. You and my daughter have more in common than you think. A drive that I wish I had.”

That had stopped your train of thought, your cheeks heating once more. Most times you would try to brush off his comments, and continue on to the next subject, even if those words made it hard for you to fall asleep that same night.

But this time, you let his words linger in the air between you. The faint glow from the candles illuminating his face, his angelic features intensifying.

It was your turn to make a move, you couldn’t let him have all the fun.

Slowly, your hand traveled across the table, until your fingers grazed his own. Lucifer never pulled back, instead, he accepted your advance. Lacing his fingers with your own.

The two of you didn’t speak, you didn’t need to. The day could be filled with laughter and quick-wits. But, the night? That belonged to your silent bouts of affection.

Just two pairs of eyes staring out through the large open bay windows, the flickering lights from the city your own little TV.

What was he thinking about? You had wondered. You were aware of the divorce of his wife years ago, and the fracture of his family still weighed on him. Even if his relationship with Charlie was improving the day. Did he blame himself for his family splitting?

You had never pried him on such things, there was no reason to bring him more pain. He’d open up about it when he was ready, he always did.

Was that why he was slow to actually ask for your kindness? Your care?

Your love?

He was a showman, with a drive to impress strangers around him, to win them over with his charm and flare. But you weren’t a stranger, not anymore.

There was this tiny parasite that gnawed at the back of your mind, whispering such horrid things of him leaving you if you made the first move.

‘His pride is too great to let him be swooned completely by a lower demon,’ it hissed, ‘He just wants something casual, nothing truly real,’

Was that true? Would he reject you and move on? Surely, there were much stronger, much smarter demons than you in Hell that he could choose.

Maybe, you’d just have to grow a backbone and ask him.

‘Soon’, you promised.

The calming scent that wafted from the candles around the room pulled you away from such thoughts. Instead, you used your free hand to lift the wine glass to your lips, downing the remaining liquor. Your body blooming with warmth as it traveled down your throat, and your head turning fuzzy with bliss.

A gentle thump as KeeKee landed on the counter pulled you back to reality. You finished washing your face, and placed it into the cool embrace of the small towel in your hands.

Turning away from the sink, you walked back into the main room. KeeKee trailed you as you rummaged through your dresser, plucking out items of clothing as you began to change for the day.

“Come, KeeKee,” You called, clicking your tongue at her as you strided to the doorway of your room.

She responded with a chirp and raced past you, out into the hallway. You watched her scurry down the stairs as you headed for the lobby. You were supposed to finish the season of RuGaul’s Drag Race this morning with Angel Dust, and honestly, it was a pretty good show.

Unfortunately, the raised bump in the carpet right in front of your foot had other plans.

“Fuck!” You hissed as you fell forward, your arms instinctually raising to catch your fall.

You hit the ground with an oomph. Luckily, you caught yourself in time to not face any serious injury. Except the sting of your pride. You lay there defeated for a moment, the ache in your arms subsiding slowly.

“Well, hello down there, my friend!” Came a familiar call, static trickling from their voice.

“Hello, Alastor.” You greeted the Radio Demon with a painful sigh.

“It appears you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle, hm? Let me help you with that.”

Black tendrils gathered around you, they were unnaturally cold and you squirmed against their touch.

They tightened around you and lifted you up, up, and up until the soles of your feet were steady on the ground. They flowed off of you, disappearing like a shadow into Alastor’s form.

“Thank you, Alastor. That was very kind of you,” you spoke as you brushed dust off your clothes. You’d need to talk to Nifty about coming to your side of the building more often to clean.

“It was no problem, my friend. I could not just sit by and allow you to take such an attitude from that silly carpet.”

Alastor snapped his fingers, and the tiny lump in the carpet that had delivered the tripping blow vanished. Leaving behind a nice, smooth surface.

His head snapped back up to you, that large smile still plastered on his face. You were about to open your mouth again when his gaze landed on something behind you, past the railing.

“Ah, I see you have finished another one of your paintings! What a wonderful piece this is, yes, truly remarkable!”

He walked forward, and placed one hand on the railing. On the opposite side of the room, at eye level to the second floor, was a painting depicting a very large, glittering lake. A tall forest surrounded it, with massive snowy mountains as the backdrop.

Small winged-angels sat near the waters, feasting on grapes and wine as they enjoyed the summer sun. Some stood near white-freckled fawns as they fed them fruits and nuts, their faces lit in joyful smiles.

“Yes, it took me forever. Water is a pain to get perfect. Do you.. think it fits?”

“Of course it does, my dear!” His enthusiastic voice not missing a beat, “I think Charlie choosing you for this job was a marvelous choice! You must have taken much inspiration from some of the classic artists.. Perhaps Edgar Payne?”

A look of surprise crossed your face. He knew about the famous western landscape artist? Alastor didn’t seem like a fine arts kind of man to you.

“I used some of his techniques, yes. I didn’t know you had such knowledge, Alastor.” You responded, a hint of questioning in your tone. Prompting him to speak more about the subject.

Alastor waved his hand in the air in a brushing motion, as if it was no big deal.

“Oh, here and there. When I was alive hosting my radio show I once toured an art gallery for an advertisement. His pieces were on display, and I suppose his work has been imprinted in my mind ever since.”

“That’s very interesting, actually. I shouldn’t be surprised though, you seem to be in favor of many classic mediums.”

“Mm, yes. I just can’t stand the way modern society has seemed to falter from its most creative forms. I’m sure soon they’ll just start paying robots up there to make art for them.”

You doubted that, people using robots to make art? What was the point of it if not created by the human hand?

It was then you caught his eyes darting to something behind you, towards the staircase. Did his eye just twitch?

Alastor’s toothy grin widened further, which you thought couldn’t be possible. Before you could turn around and get a look at whatever had captured his attention, his gaze landed back on you.

He quickly sidled much closer to you, and placed his free hand on your shoulder. Your eyes widened at the touch, he’d never been brazen like this before. Let alone being this close to you.

Suddenly, he let out a loud, boisterous laugh at nothing particular. His head slightly shook from side to side like he just heard the funniest story in his life, which made you lean back slightly at his very odd actions.

“Oh, my dear, you are such a charm. Truly. I always enjoy our little talks about your ideas. You are so very passionate about your work.”

Your eyebrows raised in suspicion at his behavior. What was this man up to?

“We should definitely continue our talks sometime, perhaps, in the comfort of your study?” He questioned, placing his other hand on your shoulder, “Maybe, you could even teach me some of that history you have trapped in your noggin, mmm what was that era called.. the Renaissance?”

Your mouth parted slightly as you contemplated his words. He wanted to learn from you? You had never graced anyone with your teachings other than Lucifer, and you kind of liked it that way.

“Well.. I don’t know if-”

“Ahem.” Came a familiar, male voice from behind the two of you.

Your words caught in your throat. Uh oh.

You watched Alastor’s grin deepen into a knowing smirk. His eyes snapping to the figure behind you, eyebrows raised.

You pivoted, seeing the familiar pale face staring intensely at you, practically into your soul. You tried to smile at him, your teeth clenched painfully as you stood besides Alastor. His hand still on your shoulder.

You tried to speak through your eyes, desperately trying to tell him this was not something you had asked for. You weren’t sure whether he could read it.

Lucifer’s gaze diverted to the hand on your shoulder, and you could feel a crackle of scorching hot energy in the air around you.

“Why, hello there, your majesty.” Alastor greeted him with mock enthusiasm.

“What a surprise to see you here,” Lucifer responded, a slight growl in his voice. He straightened his back, leaning slightly forward on his staff, as though the scene before him was not a bother. He was terrible at hiding it though.

“Indeed. My dear friend and I were just discussing their paintings, aren’t they a wonder?”

“Of course they are.” Lucifer responded.

“We have such good conversations, you know, about their vast knowledge on the subject. It makes me envious really.”

He released your shoulder from his grasp, and you scooted an inch away from him.

“Perhaps, one day, you would care to join us? But I'm sure their line of work isn’t something you are interested in, hm?” Alastor’s words left his lips, and Lucifer’s teeth bared at that.

Alastor’s smile intensified as his own energy filled the room, an invisible dual of power was beginning to emerge between the two demons. It reminded you of what happened when Lucifer had arrived at the hotel for the first time, when they had fought for the position as Charlie’s father figure.

Alastor wasn’t an idiot though, Lucifer could eradicate him at any moment. Was just simply irritating the fallen angel his only motivation?

Was Alastor’s initial conversation with you just to pull the strings of what was happening now? Did he know Lucifer was coming to see you? That sly asshole.

Alastor turned away from Lucifer’s glare, and met your gaze.

“How is that radio doing that I gave you? I hope you’ve been putting it to good use, I was trying my hardest to

think of the perfect gift for you, and I just knew that you would be interested in it.”

“It was.. nice, thank you.. Alastor.” You responded, afraid what would happen if you ignored his question.

“My pleasure, dear friend. We’ve been through thick and thin, you and I. It’s only right I share with you a piece of my.. admiration towards you.”

Admiration?

Lucifer stalked up to the two of you, staring daggers in Alastor’s back. Clearing his throat, he let out a dark chuckle.

“I’m sure your little relationship is over-exaggerated,” He said, his tone passive aggressive, “I’ve hardly seen you in the same room together, let alone have such meaningful conversations.”

“But, of course we do! I was there the first day they walked through those doors. I was the one that welcomed them to their new home, and it was I who furnished their room in the first place. Seeing as barely anything has been changed or moved around, it is safe to say our connection is much deeper than you may think.”

You heard Lucifer growl again. His eyes flickering to a shade of red.

“Well, it’s too bad your gift is useless now.” Lucifer hissed, “They have an instrument of their own, which I have provided them.”

Alastor’s ear twitched at that, and he turned to you in mock fascination.

“Oh, an instrument? Did you know I used to play in a band?” He turned to you, his questions armed with ill intentions, “I would love nothing more than to give you a lesson or two!”

“I am going to teach them, actually.” Lucifer snapped, “I couldn’t imagine the terrible noises that would come from you plucking strings like a tone-deaf banshee.”

Alastor laughed at that before reaching out and grabbing your hand. You had the growing itch to rip it away, but his stare whispered dark things, and you relented. Allowing him to grip your wrist loosely.

“Well, this has been fun, and I would like to continue our talks,” He addressed you, “But I have important business to attend to within the hotel, as your faithful hotelier. Perhaps, later tonight?”

Your smile faltered for a second, giving him a slight glare. You weren't going to let him think you were falling for his games.

“Such a shame you have so much attention on you from so many others, those demons on the streets really look at you with such enamoration. My word, just practically begging for your attention! If only you would share all your ideas and knowledge with just me, you’d know how fantastic of a listener I am.”

“Others?” Lucifer asked incredulously.

Alastor ignored him, instead, he did something that you never expected.

He gingerly pulled your hand closer to his face, before leaning down slightly and placing a quick peck to your knuckles. You gasped, placing a hand over your mouth to cease it quickly.

It was meaningless, you could tell. An act to simply further spur on Lucifer’s rage.

“Why you pompous little fucking-!” Lucifer roared, but was cut off by Alastor’s maniacal fit of giggles.

Suddenly, the red demon evaporated into a large green cloud of smoke. A gust of freezing wind rushed you as he vanished. Behind you, Lucifer’s large hat was carried with the gust of wind, and he was left practically frothing at the mouth, his hair disheveled from the wind. His eyes still a dark sickly-red.

You strode up to him, placing a hand on his arm. Trying to get him to look at you.

“I promise you, we were not talking genuinely just then, Lucifer.”

“Do you have conversations with that creep when i’m not around? Have you been telling him the same things you’ve shared with me?”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a breath of hot air.

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just getting under your skin. I’ve barely spoken with him.”

“What did he mean by ‘others’? You have suitors that i’m not aware of?”

You leaned back, confusion spreading across your face. Was Lucifer.. jealous? Was the thought of other demons trying to get intimate with you.. bothering him?

“What? Well, I don’t know, maybe. It’s not like I-”

“It’s me who knows almost everything about you. I’m the King of Hell, what can anyone offer you that I can’t?”

What was this? He’s never spoken a word about courting you, which is why your feelings towards his affection were mixed. But now, he wants to?

“And here I thought I could make it to the overlord meeting in time,” He growled. Before his gaze was renewed with fresh determination.

He grabbed your hand, pulling you closer, and snapped his fingers.

Before you could blink, the area around you melted and transformed into a beautiful restaurant. You were sitting at an oak table, candles lit around you. A wine glass in front of you.

Lucifer materialized at the seat across from you in a very tight, clean black tuxedo with a red bow tie around his neck.

He gave you a playful smirk, before another figure strode to your table. You looked up, and saw.. Lucifer? Again? This time in a classic waiter outfit, an apron tied around his waist. He held a plate of food in one hand, before setting it down before you.

“You’re favorite dish, catered by yours truly.” Waiter Lucifer spoke confidently.

You looked down at the foodstuff on the plate, your mouth watering. It really was your favorite dish. You reached out to grab it, before you were thrusted into darkness again.

Where were you now?!

You were sitting on a very comfortable cushioned chair, and as you whipped your head around, noticed that there were rows and rows of the same kind of chairs.

“What the hell is going on?!” You yelled to the scene, but received no answer.

Placed in them were more.. Lucifers? They all whooped and cheered, clapping at whatever was in front of you. You turned your head, taking in the sight before you.

It was a lit stage. The curtain was closed, so you were unable to see what was on it. Suddenly, the curtain lifted, and there was Lucifer again, he held a Violin, similar to the one he gave you, but this time in pure gold.

He looked at you before gliding the bow across its strings, the echoes of its chords filling the room. You perked, recognizing its tune.

It was ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’! The same one he had asked you about when you caught him humming that one time.

Did he learn it… just for you? Your heart fluttered. Was this grandiose display just him trying to prove that he cared about you and your interests?

It continued for a moment longer, the strings on his instrument singing with raw power. It was a beautiful sound, and for a moment you were lost in it. Emotions from your past bubbling inside of you.

And then, he let go of the violin and it began playing on its own. It floated in the air gracefully as its tune continued. He leapt off the stage and landed right in front of your seat. He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of where you would be taken next.

“Luci..” You said, giving him a questioning look.

He only smirked at you, his eyebrows raised playfully. You shook your head, a smile blooming on your face at his theatrics, and laced your fingers with his.

Instead of being thrown into darkness like before, gold flashed around you as he teleported you somewhere distant.

This time, you were on the roof of a very tall building, you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizziness before taking in the sights around you.

You were in Pentagram city, Heaven high above you, it’s white glow helping to light the rooftop like a stage.

Your hand was still gripping his, and he did not pull away. Neither did you.

Suddenly, a tune began once more. Unfamiliar this

time, and you twisted your head to find where it was coming from, but to no avail. It seemed to be emanating from the entire space around you.

Was there a faint musical number playing in the background, or was that just your imagination?

Lucifer pulled you closer, his classic red and white hats by vest clung to his frame. His hat and overcoat nowhere in sight.

“Lucifer, what are you…” You trailed off, right as he opened his mouth and started to.. sing.

With treasures untold and riches divine,

I offer you the world, to make you mine.

His voice was like velvet, that boisterous playful demeanor apparent as he circled you around, you turned with him, never releasing his hand. He continued, his eyes never straying from you as he sang.

I can offer you kingdoms, castles of gold,

Mountains of riches, for you to behold,

Diamonds that shimmer, like stars in the night,

With every breath, with every sigh,

I’ll lavish you with riches, until the end of time.

His singing ceased, and you were rushed back into reality. You looked at him in awe, enamored by that pretty voice of his. It was ethereal, just like God has designed him to be.

You stood there for a second, eyes fixed on Lucifer’s hand as it entwined with yours. Your gaze traveling to those big, beautiful golden eyes that practically begged for your response.

In that moment, as the sun above illuminated his pretty face and his shining hair flowing in the gentle breeze, you realized how much you adored- no, loved this man.

Summoning all of your willpower, you answered. Your lips parted as your tongue began to form words of your own design. You didn’t call up any lyrics from pieces of past design. These words needed to be yours. Needed to say everything you desired and more.

I don’t want your magic,

I don’t want your gold,

I want your eyes on me,

Until we grow old,

The words left your lips, soft and buttery, as your confession rang through the air. You desperately hoped your voice didn’t sound like nails against a chalkboard, that it held some resemblance to his own angelic vocals.

His eyes widened for a moment, before they softened. A sparkle shining in them that wasn’t there before.

A genuine, heart-melting smile crossed his face as he listened to your words flowing from your tongue so gracefully, like water cascading from the Fountain of Youth.

You took his other hand, pulling him backwards, as you danced across the narrow rooftop, like ballerinas, your footsteps synced and graceful.

Suddenly, he turned you towards the edge, your heels mere inches from the ledge of the roof. For a moment, you felt like you’d slip and plunge into the depths, but those eyes of his held you steady in your mind.

Until his wings appeared behind him, beating softly, giving you air as he spun you slightly off the rooftop. A pulse of warm energy hit you, and your legs lifted out from under you. Like you were Jane with your Peter Pan, and his magic fairy dust was going to send you gliding off to Neverland.

For a moment, you felt like you had wings of your own. That feeling of absolute freedom, unchained from the ground as you floated for a moment before Lucifer pulled you back to reality.

Your feet hit the rooftop once more and you were breathlessly aware of your heart beating in your throat. Your gaze snapped back to Lucifer once more, and you felt one of his hands lowering to your hip, the other still entwined with yours.

Lucifer leaned forward, and you with him. Your back curved into an arch as he leaned above you, your lips inches from brushing against each other. You felt like exploding, those butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach threatening to burst.

Both your mouths opened at once, and your words entwined with his as your lips moved once more.

Your caring touch abundantly clear,

It’s all i’ve ever known,

With you my dear,

I surely fear,

My heart will never be my own.

As your song ended, you felt your heart and mind clear instantly as your truth had finally been told. The look of pure adoration in his eyes was enough to have you trembling under his touch.

Lucifer pulled you back onto your feet, his breathing heavy and the feathers on his wings ruffled.

With both hands on your hips, you reached forward and cupped his face. Heat spread across your body as your fingers grazed across the small wisps of hair that curled around his ears.

“Darling, I-”

Before you could let him finish his sentence, you squeezed your eyes shut, and planted your lips against his. He froze for a moment, his breath hitching, before his hands around your waist tightened and he deepened the kiss.

You moved your hands from his face and instead wrapped your arms around his neck, grasping at his shirt collar with hungry desire.

His scent washed over you, and you drank it in with desperation. A sweet, crisp dose of apple cinnamon mixed with faint traces of roses. You thanked Heaven in that moment, for releasing them from their grasp, and right into your arms down here in Hell.

Your knees hit the ground the same time as Lucifer’s, and you felt the soft touch of his wings as they wrapped around you. Blanketing the two of you from the prying eyes of all the realms.

He pressed his face harder into yours as he cupped the small of your back. His teeth grazed the bottom of your lip, and you parted your mouth slightly, locking the two of you together even more intensely.

His lips left yours, and he planted feverish pecks across your cheek all the way to your earlobe. He bit tenderly on it, and you had to squeeze your lips together to stop from whimpering. He continued, trailing down your neck with hungry kisses, before burrowing his face into your shoulder blade.

You felt his teeth graze the artery in your neck, and you gasped, grasping at his hair desperately as pleasure coursed through your veins. His breath hot against your skin, tickling it.

“Fuck,” You moaned, and his response was to push you farther into bliss as he suckled on your neck. Waves of pleasure hit you once more, and you began to sloppily kiss the top of his shoulder, slightly exposed from your roughhousing.

Lucifer tightened his grip around you, pulling you as flush to his body as he could manage. You both sat there on your knees in a mix of breathless gasps and hums of pleasure.

You did not want this moment to end. Finally, the both of you had opened yourselves up to your true feelings. You smiled at the thought, and planted a kiss on his earlobe as he lifted his head slightly from your neck.

Suddenly, the watch on Lucifer’s wrist buzzed violently, and you heard him curse under his breath.

“Is that for your meeting?” Your voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Unfortunately,” He grumbled, before switching off the noise. He didn’t move from his position though, and you realized he was going to try and skip out on it.

“You should go.” You spoke, almost a command.

“Why? They’ve been fine without me for this long.”

“You’re the king,” You retorted, meeting his gaze sternly, “Go do your job, i’m not going anywhere.”

His look of distraught at having to depart sent another wave of butterflies into your body. You couldn’t help but smile before giving him another quick peck on the lips.

“Go.”

“Fine.”

You both stood up, and his wings uncurled around your body, disappearing into his back. His fingers still with yours, as he reached down for his hat that lay on the ground beside you. You released his grip and fixed his bow tie. Pulling his overcoat back neatly onto his frame, and adjusting it slightly.

You wiped the sweat off his forehead and smoothed down his hair. Attempting to tidy him up as quickly as you could so he wouldn’t be late. He smiled warmly as you fussed over him.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” You spoke softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “I need a way off this roof.”

He smirked, before grasping his staff and tapping it against the ground.

A flurry of gold wafted around you, and that same energy tickled at the back of your neck just like it did at the art studio. His face blurring from the cascading waves of warm light that wrapped around you.

“See you soon, My Love,” His voice echoed as your eyes shut and you felt that pull of energy. That feeling of floating on thin air hit you again, as you were warped away.

“There you are!” Angel dust threw his arms in the air in exasperation a few feet away from you, as the particles of gold that floated above you disintegrated. You blinked a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the lights in the lobby.

“Where were you this morning? I had to watch the final episode all by myself!”

Shit. That’s right. You placed a hand on your forehead, berating yourself silently for forgetting. Although you weren’t too regretful about missing out on it for Lucifer.

“I’m so sorry, Angel. I just got.. busy, I guess.”

He shrugged, brushing off his slight irritation.

“It’s alright, ain’t nobody hurt from it.”

He was going to turn away, towards the bar where Husk was readying drinks for the two of them, before his gaze narrowed in somewhere on your figure.

“Wait, what the fuck is on your neck?” He asked suddenly, his eyes giving you a questioning stare, as he motioned towards it.

You looked at him confused, before reaching up and running a few fingers down the side of your throat. Your eyes flew wide open in surprise, and your hand cupped your mouth as you felt it. Your cheeks set on fire instantly.

Apparently, as a final gift, Lucifer had left a rather large hickey in the crook of your neck. Both Husk and Angel leaned in to get a better look at it, their eyes widening in surprise.

“That dickhead finally did it, huh?” Husk spoke up, a knowing smirk on his lips as he cleaned glasses behind the bar.

Angel’s eyes lit up in delight, and he squeezed his own cheeks as realization dawned on him.

“Fucking finally! Does that mean you two are a thing now?”

You contemplated for a moment, before meeting Angel’s gaze once more. A smirk growing on your lips.

KeeKee appeared at your feet, rubbing at your ankles in greeting. You gingerly reached down and picked her up. She was so soft to the touch, and you caught the faint scent of Lucifer once more as she nestled into your chest.

“I guess so,” You finally replied once you situated the cat into your arms, “Now if you excuse me, gentleman, I need a breather.”

Angel whistled flirtatiously behind you as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the growing heat that hit your cheeks once more.

——

a/n: let me know your thoughts!! i almost didn’t added the little singing bit but i cracked my knuckles and summoned the lyricist in me to have some fun. I mean, it can’t be Hazbin Hotel without a song right?

tag list: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #i’m tired y’all i’m taking a nap #im writing this fic like im getting paid for it 🤣#over 6k words too?!#hazbin hotel

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sunkendreams · 7 months

Text

WHAT COULD’VE BEEN.

( michael schmidt x fem!reader. )

༄ ⠀𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | michael schmidt x [fem!]reader.

༄ ⠀𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 8.8K.

༄ ⠀𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭 | one-shot, not requested. potentially multiple parts.

༄ ⠀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | mentions of past trauma, depression, friends to lovers, confession of feelings, mutual pining, explicit sexual content/smut, virgin!mike, loss of virginity, mike is definitely more submissive here, vaginal sex, riding, making out, dry humping, hair pulling, light dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (pls wrap it), cum play, mike moans a lot I don’t make the rules !!

༄ ⠀𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | you guys should’ve seen this coming from a mile away … anyway !! I hope you guys enjoy, I loved the movie & I love Mike even more! If this fic gets good reception, I would like to make a second part or more Mike fics! Please let me know what you think! Thanks so much for your love & support, you guys are just fantastic! ❤️

❝ “What could’ve been, Mike?” You whispered, absentmindedly rocking closer until your chest nearly bumped into his shoulder.

A saccharine affection glistened within his warm stare, enough to burn a hole right through you as he squeezed your hand. “Us.” ❞

Sparky’s Diner stands proud alongside the highway, a now-dilapidated fixture of a small town. Your parents used to take you here as a child, and at one point, it was your grandmother’s favorite place to eat. Now, it almost seemed forlorn, with the occasional gaggle of patrons or stragglers, but nothing more. You were seated in one of the creaking booths, slumped forward.

Cars whistle past a smudged window pane, slivers of daylight trickling through as they catch against the ceramic surface of your coffee mug. Your leg bounces — it mirrors that of the man sitting across from you. Silence fills the void between the both of you, a tenuous moment that seems to last an eternity until you hear a brief clearing of a throat.

“How’ve you been?”

You hadn’t seen much of Michael Schmidt since the incident at the mall — it was almost as if he’d become the resident recluse, and part of you couldn’t fault him for that. You were working at Auntie Anne’s Pretzels, now doomed as a paper-pusher at the career center. You’d run into Mike that way days prior.

It was a loaded question — you were unsure of how to proceed. Part of you wanted to inquire about his own wellbeing. Exhaustion glistened on his features as if they were a permanent fixture, from the bags underneath his eyes to the far-off look in his bloodshot gaze.

He kept his hands stuffed into his pockets, his stare momentarily trailing between you and the lukewarm mug of coffee sitting in front of him. Mike recalled the days of working at the mall with you — it almost seemed a little easier back then, when he wasn’t completely weighed-down by nightmares and job instability.

Mike still held this nagging sense of guilt for letting your friendship crumble after the mall. You’d tried to reach out on numerous occasions, even after his arrest for assault and battery — no one else had done the same. It was scorched earth wherever he stood, and there wasn’t a single soul willing to get close.

“I’m doing well enough,” Your answer finally emerged after a near-endless bout of silence. The warmth had drained from your mug, but it gave you something to hold onto. “How’s Abby?” Mike’s younger sister was his entire world — you often commended him for his undying commitment to her.

Gone were the days of you sneaking her free cinnamon-sugar pretzels and delivering the leftovers to Mike once your shifts were through. You missed it — it almost felt like some distant dream, when in reality, it was only a year and a handful of months ago.

Any mention of Abby often struck a chord within Mike, as if an amalgamation of memories had come back to haunt him. His countenance was a reflection of that — still anchored down by the ghosts of the past. His dreams were becoming more vivid — worse, even. A sinking feeling consumed him then, jaw tightening as he fought against the onslaught of emotion.

A grimace flickered across his visage, enough for you to become concerned. Your heart began to beat a little faster — had something happened to her? “Mike?” You prompted, voice dropping an octave, softening up as you tilted forward. The last thing you wanted was to bring up painful memories.

You knew about his brother, Garrett.

“She’s fine,” Mike exhaled, pocketed hands perched atop his lap. He hadn’t intended to sound harsh, gaze apologetic as he looked back at you. “I’m sorry. My Aunt, ah … She’s trying to get sole custody of Abby. It’s been an uphill battle.” He confessed, tone downtrodden.

“Mike,” You murmured, brows knitting together as you abandoned your mug, hands twisting themselves together. The pain etched into his face was unmistakable — and he was holding himself together through it all. “That’s awful. Have you talked to the courts?”

A humorless huff of laughter escaped him, followed by a more indifferent expression. “No,” He leaned back within his seat, hands withdrawing themselves from his pockets, splayed out across his lap, instead. “I’m definitely not fit to be raising a kid, I know that much.” Mike sighed, eyes fluttering in the opposite direction.

Protest formed upon the tip of your tongue, prompting you into action. “That’s not true. She’s been glued to your hip, even when we worked at the mall. I think if a Judge saw how much the two of you mean to one another, they wouldn’t take her away.” You murmured.

This was the you that he’d sorely missed — one full of tenderness and a gentle optimism. Mike wanted to believe you, but given the overwhelming circumstances and his Aunt’s persistence, it felt like a losing situation. At least, for now, he had time to work this new job and gain some rapport in the process.

“I hope so,” Mike folded his hands together, resting them atop the stained, plastic tabletop. He wanted to change the subject — for now, anyway. “Thanks for still sticking with me, even after all this time.” He murmured, a pang of guilt gnawing away at his insides. You were a good person — the best that he knew.

He felt like he’d squandered away your friendship to slip into this veil of reclusiveness, instead of still holding onto you, that little ray of sunshine. Mike wanted to make amends with you, and he wanted to start down that path before he’d inevitably ruin it again.

An empathetic smile crept onto your features, followed by a soft exhale. “I wish that we hung out a little more,” You mused, tucking a fist underneath your chin. “But I understand that you’re busy. Did that job work out with Mr. Raglan?” You inquired, eyes sparkling with intrigue.

Mike’s breath hitched within his throat, a very subtle noise — he missed you terribly. Jeremiah used to tease and torment him about the colossal crush he had on you, but those times were buried within the past. His sentiments hadn’t changed, but he didn’t think he brought anything to the table, admittedly.

The job.

A security gig of an obliterated restaurant franchise where the animatronics were operated by the spirits of dead children — that job? Even after the revelation delivered to him by his own sister days prior, he still felt drawn to that place, as if he needed to be there. Abby had fun whenever he took her there — it was comforting to see her laugh and smile again.

“Yeah, the security gig.” A lump formed within his throat. He wanted to tell you all about the haunting at Freddy Fazbear’s, but it almost seemed too unbelievable. He didn’t expect you to believe him anymore after he’d grown distant from you. “It’s going. The pay is horrible, but it’s the only place that’ll take me.”

Mr. Raglan was often attempting to lure people into this security position at Freddy Fazbear’s — it must’ve been a profession with an abnormally-high turnover rate. You recalled one instance of him trying to barter with some older man to take the job.

Your memory of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria was wonderfully vibrant — some of your favorite memories were spent at that restaurant as a child. Friend’s birthday parties, end-of-school summer celebrations, and your own birthday on a handful of occasions. Though, even with brighter times, there was always a splash of darkness.

One of your childhood friends had gone missing — everyone knew about the tale of the disappearing children. Your parents forbid you from going back to that establishment after law enforcement swarmed the place, with detectives scouring it from top to bottom. With a place as family-friendly as Freddy’s being involved at the center of child disappearances, it shut down.

“Freddy’s?” You asked, shifting within your seat. Mike’s countenance held a little spark of uncertainty intermingled with fear — enough for you to mention something about the restaurant’s gruesome history. “It’s supposedly haunted. You haven’t encountered any paranormal activity at night, have you?” You teased, head canting to one side.

Mike couldn’t help but smile — a sardonic, somewhat bemused expression that happened to evoke your curiosity once more. “Something like that.” It was difficult to discern if he was joking or not, truth be told. “Working the night shift, you think you see things — the mind playing tricks or something.” He was afraid of telling you the whole truth right away.

That explained his haggard, sunken look — the disheveled tresses and forlorn stare. He must’ve been exhausted from working nights. You never had the experience of a third shift, but you didn’t envy him. “You look tired,” You chimed, and then, a proposal came to fruition. “Would you want help with watching Abby?”

Max stopped answering her phone, as if she’d become wholly disinterested in babysitting altogether. He couldn’t really blame her — he hadn’t paid up and Abby could be just as reclusive as he was. “No, no. You don’t have to do that. Between you and me, I’ve been taking her to work with me. She likes it there.��

A gentle smile fluttered across your features. The animatronics were adorable — you imagined that Abby liked them quite a bit. “Sure, Mike. If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask. I have some downtime with my job, I don’t know if you can say the same.”

Mike’s heart skipped a beat, chocolate hues captivated by your softened visage. Your smile was mesmerizing — that was still a constant about you, it hadn’t changed whatsoever. Those inklings of affection were spiraling into tidal waves, as if he were back at the mall again, fawning over you from afar as you handed out pretzels.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” He chewed at the inside of his cheek, debating on whether or not he should invite you to come with him to the next shift he worked. It wasn’t a good idea — the animatronics were hostile toward adults, he realized. Maybe Abby could remedy that. “So, are you …” He trailed off.

Were you seeing anybody?

Did you enjoy your job?

Did you want to come over to his place for pizza?

Were you still planning on going to university?

Akin to a deer in the headlights, Mike’s fingers curled into the rough fabric of his jeans as he pondered on what exactly to ask you. He wanted to fully catch up, away from the public spotlight of a run-down, dingy diner — not that his house was any better, but he could clean up.

“Are you going to university?” It was a cowardly option — he could’ve chosen the emboldened route, but it felt too soon, inquiring about details of your personal life. You didn’t owe him anything. You’d talked about going to the University of Utah countless times.

Part of you wanted to inquire about the intricacies of his own life — about his Aunt, about Abby, and perhaps delving a little deeper. You really liked Mike, especially when working at the mall together, and after all this time, nothing had changed. A soft burst of laughter escaped you, followed by a wrinkling of your nose.

“No,” You sighed, tapping your fingers against the ceramic mug sitting on your left. “I don’t know if I can go and realistically afford it. I don’t want to run myself into the ground just for school, you know? I’m trying to save up as much as I can.” Your dreams were still present — just seemingly out-of-reach.

Mike could see the flicker of frustration settle into your features, and he felt for you. He’d thought about trying for engineering at one point in time, but with his parents passing away and the weight of responsibility falling upon his shoulders, it all fell through. “I understand,” He scratched at the top of his hand. “You’ve always been too smart for me.” He mused.

“That’s not true,” You protested, playfully rolling your eyes as you nudged at his shin with your foot. “You’re just as intelligent, if not more. Do you remember when you helped me fix the salt dispenser?” A sense of giddiness rippled through you when Mike smiled — nearly tangible, oozing with warmth.

“I remember,” An inkling of humor crept into his tone, accompanied by a fluctuating smile. “I don’t think you knew what the word ‘twist’ meant.” He prodded, dark eyes twinkling with mirth as the two of you engaged in banter about work — back then, at least.

A scoff left you, but your smile remained ever-present, dimples forming at either corner of your mouth. “In my defense, it was needlessly complex. You can agree with me.” You laughed, glancing outside once more. The day was still young, trees swaying with the breeze as patrons came in and out of the diner.

“Sure,” Mike chuckled, pearlescent teeth flashing in the brief hint of a grin before it began to wane. It was a disappointment, really — you would’ve liked to see more of that. “I do miss the free pretzels.” He mused, voice having lowered to a more amiable tone. Part of him yearned for the days back at the mall — it all seemed a little easier, back then. His Aunt wasn’t trying to take his sister away, and the money was better.

The Mike that you knew back during your time in the mall was laced with a wisecrack humor, as smart as a whip, and often full of conversation. You could tell that he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders — it was his eternal burden, it seemed. Selflessness and compassion were ingrained into him, a second nature or instinct, and you admired him all the more for it.

“I missed you, Mike.” You confessed, gaze seemingly forlorn as the two of you lamented about the not-too-distant past.

It was as if you’d stolen the air right from his lungs, ripped it away with your bare hand. Goosebumps formed along the column of his spine, prompting him to shift within the cracking leather of the booth. You’d rendered him speechless, enough to where he felt the need to try and recuperate, lips parting as if to speak — words turned to ash upon his tongue.

Mike missed you more than words could properly describe — he couldn’t convey whatever it was he wanted to say. He’d kick himself knowing that he let this go, let you go, when it could’ve been his all along. A bevy of emotions stirred within his chest, prompting him to dig the heel of his palms into his legs.

Maybe that lifeline, that support — it was something that he sorely needed. That was his justification, his excuse to say he needed you in a roundabout way. Finally, he allowed himself to relax, jaw clenching and unclenching within the same breath.

“Yeah,” Mike nodded, gaining the courage to look you in the eyes this time. “I missed you, too.” His confession hung heavy, like a weight dragging the both of you back into this unspoken sentiment. Whatever courage was instilled in him, he decided to go the extra mile. “You should come over sometime.”

Exhilaration happened to be a mere understatement for whatever it was you felt in that moment — it was borderline ecstasy. You were wholly prepared to launch yourself at the opportunity to spend time with him again, but you composed yourself, keeping any giddiness at bay as you nodded.

“I’d like that — I’d like that a lot, Mike. It’d be nice to see Abby again, too.” You smiled, excitement dancing across your features, barely restrained as you cleared your throat. “I don’t want it to conflict with your work schedule or anything.” You blurted, hoping that he’d be able to keep up with sleep, too.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d invited someone over, but this was you — Mike had already squandered your friendship once before, and he wasn’t about to repeat the past again. It weighed on his conscience enough. “It won’t. Promise.” He reassured you, unable to keep from smiling this time. “Tomorrow night?”

Heat crawled across your features, sinking into your very bones as you cleared your throat. “Tomorrow night works perfectly.” You checked your watch out of habit, nearly cursing yourself when you realized what time it was. You had fifteen minutes to spare before you were officially late for work. “Shit. I’m going to be late for work.”

“I understand. Walk you to your car?” Mike offered, gesturing toward the weed-laden parking lot as you scrambled to toss a crumpled twenty-dollar bill onto the countertop.

“Of course.” Each night after work, he’d walk you to your beat-down, shitty Acura, making sure that you were safe and sound in the dark parking lot. It was comforting to know that his habit hadn’t changed in the slightest.

Once outside, Mike stuck close to your side, hands slipping back into the pockets of his faded jacket as he walked with you to your car. Trash billowed through the parking lot like a tumbleweed, narrowly missing the front of your Acura. “She’s still running?” He teased, patting the top of your decaying vehicle.

“Hey, don’t be mean to the car. It’s still chugging along. That’s more than you can say about your Accord.” You snickered, tossing your bag inside of the passenger door before turning toward Mike. Awkwardness welled inside of you — it wasn’t like you hadn’t hugged him before, but something nagged away at you this time.

Mike let out a huff of laughter, head canting to one side. “Touché.” He mused, visage softening as he looked you over. You were pretty — too pretty for him, but he decided to skip over the brief bout of self-depreciation. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” His voice trailed off in something of an inquiry.

“Absolutely. I’m excited,” You beamed, and without thinking this time, shuffled closer to give him a hug. Much to your delight, he reciprocated, arms wrapping tightly around you, bringing you in against his chest. You could’ve stayed that way for an eternity — but now, you had ten minutes to spare before work. “Thank you, Mike. For everything.”

He was completely and utterly undeserving of you, but Mike counted his lucky stars that you still wanted to stick around. Instead, he accepted your gratitude, wanting to hold you just a little longer — if only. He reluctantly relinquished his grasp on you, gaze oozing with a saccharine warmth. “Yeah,” He nodded. “Drive safe.”

You smiled, exuberant and chipper before you squeezed his hand. “See you tomorrow.” You mused, hopping into the driver’s seat of your rattling, sputtering Acura as you sluggishly pulled out of the parking lot and out onto the road.

Mike lingered in the lot, glancing toward the fading pavement, and then toward the sky — he had so much cleaning up to do tomorrow.

“Help me clean up around here, and I’ll buy you new crayons.”

It was the only viable bribing he could do to get Abby to help him with picking up around the house. Given his chaotic work schedule and the newfound circumstances with the haunted animatronics, there was little time to keep the house tidy.

He’d gone to work that night after you’d departed from the parking lot, slept a little bit while Abby entertained herself with her friends, and went home when the sun came up. He was tense after the first few times he’d taken Abby to the Pizzeria — the animatronics were still dangerous, but nothing bad had happened.

Yet, anyway.

“Who’s coming over?” Abby asked, collecting remnants of trash and crayon pieces from around the living room, depositing it all into the trash can. “Why do we have to clean up if it’s Aunt Jane?” She mumbled, somewhat dejected as Mike scrubbed the dishes.

“It’s not Aunt Jane,” He cleared his throat, visage swarming with heat as it turned a light shade of pink. “You remember Y/N, right? From the mall — she worked at the pretzel place. She gave you the sugar pretzels.” Mike hoped that his sister would remember you, but there were no guarantees. It’d been awhile.

Abby gasped, realization glittering across her features as she grinned — toothy and mischievous. “You like her,” She prompted, standing by her brother as he tediously made his way through the stack sitting by the sink. “Is she coming over for a date?”

“No, it’s not a date, Abby.” Mike groaned, flicking a wad of soapy bubbles at her. She squealed, smacking at his arm before he gestured toward the closet. “Need you to run the vacuum around, okay?” He sighed, wondering if he’d end up regretting this.

“Okay.” Abby sighed, begrudgingly making her way to the storage closet, haphazardly untangling the cord to the vacuum before plugging it in. “Can we get pizza?” She asked, standing beside the couch, vacuum sitting next to her. “Please, Mike?”

“We’ll get pizza, Abs.” He hesitated, swiveling upon his heel as she sat atop the arm of the couch, watching him finish up the dishes instead of vacuuming. “Does the floor clean itself?” Mike teased with a grin, prompting his sister to hop off of her perch, starting up the vacuum as she began to run it around the living room.

By the time Abby finished vacuuming and he’d gotten the kitchen into a near-spotless state, he focused on tidying up his bedroom and getting the laundry together. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone through the entire house like this on a whirlwind just to make it tidy for you — and he’d do it all again if he needed to.

As he tucked the corner of his blanket underneath the pillow, he heard a knock at the door. Mike assumed that it was the pizza guy — or so he hoped. He wanted everything to be perfect, considering that you hadn’t really hung out together since the mall.

“Mike! Pizza!” Abby called out, sitting at the dining room table with a handful of crayons and sheets of paper. She was drawing another picture for her friends — it was all of them in a field of flowers, accompanied by a bright sun and plenty of birds.

It gave him an opportunity to check over the house as he made his way to the front door, ensuring that everything looked spotless. Admittedly, it was the best the house had looked in several months — a twinge of pride rippled through him as he opened up the door.

After Mike handed him a very weathered twenty, the man reluctantly handed the pizza boxes over before hopping off of the front steps.

The timing was perfect — ten minutes later, and the guttural lurching of your Acura could be heard pulling into the driveway outside. Mike placed the pizza onto the table, tossing a handful of paper plates beside it. Abby leaned over, peering toward the door as he lingered close by.

You were nervous — you couldn’t explain it.

Part of you felt wonderfully ridiculous, having worn something that you considered cute to his house, applied a splash of makeup here and there. As you sluggishly made your way to his front door, you smoothed your hands over your blouse, hands knitting together. You waited a beat, and knocked on the door.

Mike was there instantaneously, as if he’d somehow teleported to that very spot. The door flung open, and you were greeted by his beaming countenance. It was the happiest you’d seen him in some time, which was something of a relief. He looked attractive — the emerald sweater suited him perfectly.

“Hi,” You greeted, offering him a brief wave as you stepped inside, only to be swarmed by Abby in the process. “Abby!” You giggled, stooping down to return the girl’s hug. “You’ve gotten taller, haven’t you? You’re going to beat your brother in no time.” You teased, lips twitching into a grin.

“Did you bring any pretzels?” Abby asked, staring at you with those large, doe-like eyes. A pang of guilt struck at your stomach — you hadn’t worked at Auntie Anne’s for several months now.

“No,” You sighed, shaking your head back and forth. “I don’t make pretzels anymore. I put away lots of paperwork now.” It sounded less appealing when you said it outloud. “I did bring something else for you, though.” You unzipped your bag, revealing a very fuzzy, stuffed rabbit.

Abby gasped, taking ahold of your gift as she squeezed it against her chest. “He’s so cute!” She giggled, showing off the bunny to Mike, who couldn’t help but smile. You’d always been very good to Abby, able to forge a bond with her that he envied on occasion. “Thank you!”

Laughter bubbled forth from your lips, mirth sparkling upon your features. “Of course! I hope he keeps you warm at night.” You mused, glancing towards the pizza boxes organized in a neat row on the dining room table. “You got Greek’s? You’re spoiling me.”

As Abby hopped toward the table to dig into the cheese pizza, Mike gestured at the kitchen. You followed him over, removing your jacket as you hung it on one of the pegs along the wall. “Want something to drink?” He asked, noticing the bemused expression you wore. “I don’t have anything stronger than Dr. Pepper.”

Your nose wrinkled in amusement as you leaned against the countertop, glancing over your shoulder at Abby. The rabbit sat soundly at her side, crayons and paper scattered on the empty side of the table. “I’ll just drink Dr. Pepper.” You chimed, having a gander at your surroundings. You’d been to his place several times before, but it was abnormally spotless.

“Sure,” Mike mused, handing you a can of soda before clearing his throat. “Abby wants to watch Labyrinth, if that’s okay with you.” He’d watched the movie a hundred times before — it was one of her favorites. Unfortunately, he’d memorized most of Bowie’s quotes throughout the film.

“Absolutely,” You chuckled, popping open the drink with a soft hiss. “I wouldn’t say no to that, anyway. It’s a certified classic.” With a bright smile, you and Mike returned to the table, joining Abby as you ate pizza together. The atmosphere was beyond comforting to you — you wondered why you were so anxious to begin with.

It felt like home.

“You don’t like it, do you?”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that Mike was completely and utterly bored with Labyrinth. The two of you sat a comfortable distance away on the couch, Abby laying on the floor, dozing in and out of slumber. You kept your voice hushed, knees tucked toward your chest as a playful smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

“Do you know how many times I’ve seen this movie?” Mike whispered, rolling off of the couch as he stooped down to pick up Abby, making sure to grab her rabbit, too. “I’m gonna put her to bed.” He murmured, and you decided to follow, making sure to retrieve her crayons and half-drawn doodles.

As Mike slowly crept into Abby’s room, he tucked his sister into bed, making sure that she had her stuffed animal, blankets neat around her. You stacked the crayons and drawings back onto her desk, standing at the fringes of the doorway.

Crickets chirped outside as dusk settled like a cool blanket, stars spattered across the night sky. It was peaceful, especially as you watched Mike press a kiss against the top of Abby’s head.

Once he closed the door behind him, the two of you returned to the living room. You were more than happy to help him clean up the pizza remnants and any dishes, folding up the boxes to put into the trash until you were both back on the couch again.

“I’ve had a lot of fun tonight, Mike. Thank you for inviting me over — and for buying me dinner, too.” You mused, the two of you a little closer than before. Labyrinth provided a simple background lull, the volume barely above silent. “Do you want me to pay you back?”

“I’m glad we got to do this again,” Mike felt butterflies erupt within the pit of his stomach. The sudden realization of being alone with you was tantalizing, at best. Gooseflesh spread across the back of his neck, one hand poised atop the arm of the sofa. “Don’t worry about dinner. It’s on me.”

“Okay,” A soft huff of laughter left you as you tilted your head back against the plush material, one hand within your lap as the other dangled uselessly at your side. “Could I ask you something?”

Mike nodded, swallowing the growing lump within this throat. A nervous excitement flared up inside of him, as if a match had been struck. A slick perspiration broke out on his palms — he wanted to tell you everything. About the animatronics, about Garrett, about how he felt about you — and yet, he was afraid. “Anything.”

You briefly chewed at the inside of your cheek, adjusting your position to look at him fully. “Did I do something wrong to cause you to pull away from me?” You asked, voice dropping into a soft lull. It was a question that had been on your mind since this whole rekindling.

“Absolutely not,” Mike blurted, and immediately shook his head. “It’s just — after what happened at the mall, I was afraid of what you’d think of me.” He confessed, dark hues echoing with shame. “Legal issues piled up, I was out of a job. It’s been a lot.”

What do you think of him?

Mike Schmidt was the center of your world for the longest time — and now that he was back, it was as if the Moon had come back into orbit, bright and full again. He was perfectly imperfect in your eyes, and you wouldn’t change anything at all. “Mike,” You mumbled, reaching for his hand as your fingers closed around his own. “I don’t think any less of you. I never have.”

Your skin was smooth, velveteen as he adjusted his grip, fingers twining together as you sat on the couch, closer than ever before. The distance between the both of you was steadily declining, and he didn’t mind. “I felt like I ruined things between us before,” He murmured. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

Your heart thrummed within your chest, beating erratically beneath your breast. A subtle gasp hitched within your throat, producing only a sliver of sound. “You didn’t ruin anything. You’ve been through so much, Mike. I can’t blame you for needing space.”

“I felt like I lost what could have been.” He confessed, voice growing abnormally thick. Mike stared at you with those round, dark eyes of his — they were impossibly beautiful, like an inescapable maze. You wondered what he meant by that — what could have been.

Whatever he meant, you hoped that it meant one thing — something unspoken, the sentiment that lingered between the two of you. It was as if a flame had been stoked, roaring to life again as it steadily consumed the both of you.

“What could’ve been, Mike?” You whispered, absentmindedly rocking closer until your chest nearly bumped into his shoulder.

A saccharine affection glistened within his warm stare, enough to burn a hole right through you as he squeezed your hand. “Us.” He exhaled, jaw clenching and unclenching, a nervous habit of his.

Your lips were melded to his before either of you had a chance to properly absorb the weight of the moment. He was a gentle kisser — so sweet and oozing with compassion that you wanted to drown in it. His week-old stubble scratched against your visage, a sign that this was all very real.

Experience wasn’t a foreign concept for you, but Mike was — he was so tender, as if any movement might break you into pieces. Even his kisses were sluggish, as if he were really taking his time. You couldn’t complain about that whatsoever. You rocked forward, untangling your hands as your digits twisted into his sweater.

“Hey,” Mike breathed, doe-eyed and dazed as he withdrew, mere inches apart from you. “Are you okay with this?” He asked, ensuring that you were comfortable before going any further. He hadn’t had sex — maybe everything before, but nothing further.

“Yeah,” You nodded, keeping your voice low as you felt his arm wrap around you. “Are you? I don’t want you to push anything if you aren’t comfortable.” You murmured, and he shook his head, pressing another soft kiss against your mouth.

His fingers swept across your cheek, caressing along your jaw as he cradled your face within his palm. “I’m fine,” Mike reassured you, but his heartbeat said otherwise. Exhilaration and excitement were mere understatements. Everything else had paled in comparison to you in that moment. “You’re really beautiful.”

A soft wisp of air tore past your parted lips, gaze becoming half-lidded as you repositioned your hands, one slipping against the nape of his neck. The other remained stationary atop his chest, and you leaned in again for another passionate kiss.

Mike was warm — he was everything you’d ever wanted.

Distance became slim, next to nothing as you crawled into his lap, slotted atop one of his thighs as you continued to kiss him. It turned sultry, charged with a more intimate element as one hand settled against your hip, digits toying with the hem of your blouse. His scent was that of cologne and fresh linens, perhaps a hint of something sweet.

He switched the television off, holding you close, chest to chest as you broke away from the kiss. The way he looked at you was mesmerizing to behold — Mike stared at you as if you were some diamond in the rough. You pressed your lips against his cheek, reveling in the way he keened into your embrace.

Your mouth peppered a string of kisses along his jaw, tugging some of his sweater down as you made your way along his neck. A soft, simpering groan escaped him when your mouth met his neck, enough for you to shiver with delight. His hands began to skim underneath your shirt, feeling along your curves.

“S’nice.” Mike mumbled, able to feel the tangible imprint of your smile against his jugular. Admittedly, he hadn’t been kissed like that — he nearly asked for you to do it again, tugging you closer as your mouth crept back up, lips seamlessly melding against his.

He was sweet — you thoroughly enjoyed the way he touched you, with a gallant certainty. There wasn’t a singular domineering bone in his body, and you were all the more grateful for it. You nearly flew out of his lap when you heard a noise from the kitchen.

“Bedroom?” You whispered, watching as Mike nodded, moving up from the couch as he reached for your hand this time. It was a very short skip to his room, which happened to be impeccably clean, just like the rest of the house. It was dark and nondescript, but before you could analyze it all, you felt his hands fly back to your blouse.

You lifted your arms, feeling the weight of the fabric leave your body. Goosebumps followed like a tidal wave, scrawled across your flesh as Mike kissed you again. It never lacked passion — it wasn’t rough nor desiring dominance, just complete and utter sweetness.

Mike was hesitant to confess to being a virgin — it didn’t necessarily matter, but it came back to the whole notion of what you would think. He wasn’t clueless in the slightest, but you deserved to know. Maybe you’d be disappointed.

As you sank down onto the edge of the mattress, he followed suit, clamoring with you until the both of you ended up tangled together atop the pillows. Every kiss was heartachingly sweet, fused together with a blistering tenderness. Your heat tilted, deepening your entanglement as your hands clutched at his sweater.

“I’ve never done this before,” He murmured, prompting you to pause, feeling the weight of his body partially draped on top of you. “Does that bother you?” Mike asked, earthen hues scanning your expression for any sign of hesitancy.

“No, it doesn’t bother me.” In fact, you found it to be endearing — it made everything sweeter. “I’ve done this before. Does that bother you?” It wasn’t something that you wore as a badge of honor. He was a shitty guy anyway, but what happened, happened.

Mike gently shook his head, feeling your fingers slip underneath the hem of his sweater. “Not in the slightest.” He replied, voice barely above a whisper. His hands stilled for a moment, stomach sloshing with excitement and a newfound sense of giddiness. “Can I touch you?”

His asking for consent was sweet — perhaps it was the doe-eyed, affectionate look he had or the soft tone of his voice, or both. Nonetheless, you found yourself enticed, feeling his hands dance around the waistband of your jeans. You were the emboldened one, wriggling out of the snug garment without warning.

“Yes,” You uttered, giving his sweater another urgent tug, wanting to feel more of him. Mike obliged, kneeling between your legs as he removed the emerald-colored garment, letting it join the pile amassing at the foot of his bed. “You’re so pretty.” You sighed, and he blushed.

The compliment did wonders for him, and he became visibly smitten by your words. He was all lean muscle, nothing bulky or grotesque, broad shoulders layered in a light smattering of freckles. “Thanks.” It got him to smile again, dutifully returning to you as he swallowed the growing lump within his throat.

Before you had time to conjure up a playful remark, his mouth was against yours, body closer than before as his hands felt across your form. Your arms draped themselves around his neck, fingers roaming through his dark tresses as you gave them a light tug. It elicited a soft noise from the back of his throat.

He kissed you until your lips were swollen, chasing after that sensation. Even kissing you made him aroused, cock pulsating with a dull throbbing as his thigh nudged against your clothed core. It became increasingly hot and less tactful, kisses devolving into a mess of need — teeth, tongue, and want.

It was his turn to layer the column of your throat in a myriad of kisses, stubble tickling the silky flesh of your neck. Your knees squeezed at his hips, feeling one of his hands knead into your clothed chest, gently groping at your breast. A low moan escaped you, and you only wanted more.

“Keep going.” You encouraged, voice breathy and wrought with a sultry tension. You reached back, hastily fiddling with the clasp of your brassiere, flinging the garment aside. Mike’s visage was permanently tinted with a shade of rose, lips parting as he resumed his touching.

Instead, his hand skimmed lower, and he searched your countenance for any signal of disdain as it dipped beneath the waistline of your panties. Mike’s breath hitched within his throat when he touched you, fingers finding your cunt, already slick with arousal. “More?” He asked, seeking a little bit of guidance.

“Yes,” You groaned, hips canting forward into his embrace, desperate for friction. He provided it to you with a swiftness, hunched over you as two digits slipped past your folds, stroking along your slit. “Mike!” Another simpering whine left you, one hand clutching onto his shoulder.

He was so sweet, like sticky, oozing honey as he pressed a string of kisses along the side of your face, pressing himself closer as his fingers found their rhythm. They slid against your aching core, one circling around your clit, causing you to lurch forward.

Mike appeared surprised when you reached for his belt, hastily unclasping it with one hand. Another pang of excitement struck him as you delved beneath his jeans with a neediness that he so desperately craved. He was starved for contact, ministrations slowing when your hand slipped into his boxers.

His cock twitched, bleeding heat into your palm as you felt around, experimenting at first. There was a dazed, needy look in his eyes, chocolate hues glazed-over by a sheen of want. Desperation was a mere understatement — he was starving, needing the contact like he needed air. You provided, amiable as ever.

“You — You don’t have to,” Mike mumbled, attempting to mask the complete and utter bliss he was feeling in that moment. As your soft palm wrapped around his cock, he let out a guttural whine, forehead pressed into yours. “Jesus.” He groaned, trying to keep his volume at a reasonable octave.

“Don’t stop,” You huffed, feeling him sink lower onto you, heat radiating from your entangled bodies. “Mike, please.” Another moan left you when he resumed in full swing, barely able to focus on pleasuring you and his own state of enjoyment.

As his thumb pressed into your clit, his other digits sought to gently prod at your cunt, beginning to work themselves inside of you. It was perfectly in-tandem with the slow strokes of your palm around his erection, pumping at his length with a scorching level of desire. He was panting in your ear, hips snapping forward into your hand.

It was heat and desire and passion that blossomed between the both of you, like a thick, inescapable haze. His flesh felt dewy beneath your fingertips, which found residence against the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of his disheveled tresses.

He was borderline rutting into your thigh, lurching forward into your fist, cock throbbing with a dull ache as you continued to stroke him off. Mike wanted to be loud, but there was a risk involved in that. A needy, sonorous moan left him, ghosting above the shell of your ear as his fingers gently pistoned in and out of your tight cunt.

“You’re perfect,” He breathed, mumbling an incoherent string of sweet nothings into your shoulder. Perspiration crept along the column of your spine, knees occasionally squeezing at Mike’s hips as the two of you touched one another as if it were your last time. “Perfect.” Mike mumbled again.

You tugged on his hair, dragging him closer for another sloppy, obliging kiss, to which he happily reciprocated. You could hear another whimper leave him as your lips clashed, causing you to shudder in delight. He was thrusting himself into your palm, tendrils of precum slick against your fingers.

“Want me to stop?” You mumbled, and he nodded against your shoulder. Mike knew that if you kept it up, he wouldn’t last — and it seemed completely and utterly pathetic if he did so this early on. Your grasp began to slack, hand slipping out of his boxers.

A twinge of disappointment ripped through you when his hand ceased, but it dissipated just as soon as it appeared. Mike’s hands curled into the waistband of your panties, gingerly easing them down along the length of your legs, body slipping lower as he did so. His gaze silently begged for your consent, and you weren’t about to refuse him.

“Is this okay?” Mike murmured, shuddering in delight when your head bobbed up and down several times over in an enthusiastic nod. He hadn’t done this before, but thankfully, it wasn’t difficult — and he was a quick learner. He pressed a trail of benevolent kisses along your thigh, stubble tickling your flesh in the process.

Your throat became thick, feeling his broad shoulders push past your legs, keeping them parted. “Mike,” A sigh of passion left you, hand clamoring to grasp at his tresses yet again. One hand kneaded into the pliant flesh of your thigh, the other splayed atop your hip bone until your fingers found his.

Nervousness swelled within him as he inched closer, feeling some nagging pang of hesitation. He was terrified of disappointing you, but he remembered what you’d said earlier — you’d never think less of him. “Tell me if it’s too much.” A soft utterance emerged from him before he dipped inward, breath hot as it fanned across your thighs.

Not in the slightest.

His tongue raked hot embers across your cunt, stoking the flame that burned bright within the pit of your stomach. Mike’s head became foggy with lust, swimming with desire as he kept a more exploratory pace. Your honeyed scent wafted around him, dragging him in again as he laps at your slit.

You were in disbelief — he hadn’t done this before? It almost prompted you to ask, but his mouth happened to rip those thoughts right out of your skull. A soft barrage of licks lashing against your cunt had you squirming, hips rolling forward into his mouth. A low moan left the both of you, fingers perusing through his mop of dark curls.

A myriad of whimpers left your parted lips, causing Mike to shift against the mattress, hips grinding forward to relieve some of the friction. His cock strained against his boxers, finding pleasure just in giving it all to you.

A thin layer of dewy perspiration broke out along your flesh, provided by the continuous wave of heat drifting between the both of you. Your thighs quivered as warmth pooled between your thighs, and Mike was there to kiss it all better, tongue trailing over your cunt again and again, stubble prickling at your soft flesh.

He wanted to be inside of you so bad — there was an ache present, one that only you could cure. Mike wanted to savor you, drunk upon your very being as a soft groan left him. Your digits continued to tug on his tresses, causing him to keen forward, lips pursing around your clit.

“S—Shit, Mike!” You mewled, attempting to keep your volume at a hushed octave. It was proving to be increasingly difficult, writhing against him as he hunched inward, nearly forgetting to breathe.

Mike inhaled, kissing the inside of your thigh as he dutifully lapped at your slit again. He alternated between your wet cunt and clit, suckling on the sensitive clutch of nerves. His jaw clenched, hips jolting into the mattress again as he haplessly tried to relieve some of the mounting tension.

Your chest heaved with a myriad of throaty, high-pitched whimpers as he sucked on your clit, stars rippling past your vision. No one had ever gone down on you with such reverence and passion before, but now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted more.

Jesus — his resolve crumbled with every sound you made, each cant of your hips as you rocked into his mouth. Mike let out a whimper — he almost hoped that you didn’t hear how pathetic it sounded, continuing to lap at your core until you were seeing white.

That coil began to unfurl, blistering heat coursing through you, a white-hot rush of sheer ecstasy that caused you to moan and cry out. Mike continued to sweetly embrace your cunt, lips lightly kissing at your clit. Your body rattled like a leaf, tremors of your orgasm shooting through you.

“I need you,” Mike huffed, his voice strung-out with lust, hoarse and throaty as his fingers clamped into the pliant flesh of your hips. “Please.” You were on the cusp of cumming, hopelessly aroused by his sweet pleas as you lifted his head away, enough for him to look at you.

Those sweet, doe-like eyes of his were dilated with desire, his expression one of sheer desperation, breathing having sped up. You sat up on your elbows, enthralled by the way he hovered between your legs like a ravenous man. “You can have me,” You murmured. “Always.”

Mike sprung into action, hastily tearing his jeans off as he crawled up the length of your body, pressing a string of appreciative kisses against your velveteen skin. “You’ll stop me, right?” He inquired, nearly rendered speechless when you hitched a leg around his waist, fingers grasping at his shoulders.

“Yeah,” You nodded, feeling his fingertips ghost along your hairline, idly pushing disheveled strands aside before he stooped in for a kiss. You had no intention of stopping him whatsoever, reciprocating his affections before you plucked at the waistband of his boxers. “Just go at your own pace, okay?”

He was filled with longing, bursting at the seams as he freed his cock from its confines. He feared that he wouldn’t last long at all if he went this extra mile, but there was no turning back. Mike didn’t want to turn back, either. A moan rippled through him as he dragged the head of his length through your folds.

It reminded you of a feral animal — his countenance glistened with an ardent sensuality, pupils blown-out with lust as he slowly pushed himself inside of you. Admittedly, you loved that Mike was so needy — and he wasn’t ashamed of it, either. He lacked a single ounce of dominance, even if he was on top of you.

“You feel so good,” You moaned, forehead pressed against his own as he began to move, hips awkwardly snapping forward. It was a rocky, unstable rhythm, but you didn’t mind it in the slightest. “Mike,” A wanton sigh left you as your hands found his tresses once more.

Mike’s mouth brushed against yours, thrusting himself inside of you as he gained a rather sluggish pace. His cock throbbed uncomfortably, yearning for a release as he rocked forward again. Another low-pitched whine left him when you tugged on his hair. “I—It’s perfect.” He panted, flesh searing and damp.

His head dropped toward your collarbone, face buried within the crook between your neck and shoulder. A shudder rolled down the length of his spine as you coaxed him close, hips occasionally grinding into his pelvis, creating a friction that he wanted to chase after.

A string of incoherent babbles escaped him, enigmatic and so very breathy, hot skin melding against your own body. His pace became borderline erratic, as if he didn’t know what fit — he just wanted to be inside of you. It felt euphoric, feeling your cunt tighten around his cock as he rutted into you.

Ecstasy blistered through him like a tidal wave, and he almost felt dizzy, fucking into you at a constantly-shifting pace. He alternated from sluggish to swift, unsure of what felt right, but you were mewling into his ear. You showered him with sweetly-spoken praises, mouth seeking his lips for another messy kiss.

Mike’s hips continued to snap forward, cock aching as he neared his release. Your hand snaked between the both of you, thumb circling your clit as he bucked forward again, releasing another groan. “M’close.” Mike huffed, giving you ample forewarning as he kept up the pace.

“Please cum for me,” It was needlessly filthy, the command that tore past your mouth, but it certainly evoked a strong reaction from him. He stammered, letting out a whine as he fucked into you with a lazy passion. “Cum in me, Mike.” You moaned.

He didn’t know if he heard you right, but he rutted into you again and again, cock pulsing with warmth as he came. Mike pulled out halfway through, painting your thigh in hot ropes of his cum, flesh blazing with embarrassment.

Even in the blissful aftermath, he couldn’t help but apologize for the mess. “Sorry,” He was blushing, chest heaving with excitement as he regained his composure, slowly but surely. The rush and exhilarating thrill was still present as he rolled off of the bed, scrambling to retrieve a washcloth from his bathroom. “Here.”

His apology was endearing — sickly-sweet, too. You cleaned yourself off, making sure that the cloth ended up in the dirty laundry. You were sitting up just enough for him to press in behind you, feeling his lips pepper themselves along your spine.

You twisted around, curling into his arms as you draped yourself on top of him, swollen lips coaxing him in for an achingly tender kiss. It was pure bliss — it lacked the crazed desire from earlier, lust dissipating into affection instead. “Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” You mumbled against his mouth.

“Positive,” Mike assured, hiking the sheets up over the both of you, watching as you wormed your way into one of his t-shirts. “You’re really beautiful.” He murmured, digits stroking at your hair, caressing around your temples as you perched your chin atop his chest.

“So are you.” Your smile became saccharine, entranced by your brown-eyed paramour. “Your eyes are pretty,” You uttered, hands splaying themselves out against his chest as he held you close. “So warm.”

Crimson saturated his features as he accepted your doting compliments without question. He wasn’t used to it, but he could adjust. Your lips were swift this time, melding together in a seamless kiss as he took his time, committing every detail of you to memory. “Stay with me?” He murmured, palm lightly caressing at the back of your head.

“Of course.” You settled, limbs tangled together beneath the sheets as you made yourself comfortable within his arms. It was something that you weren’t bound to forget about anytime soon, dozing off to the sound of his steady breathing.

It was the best he’d slept in ages.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #fnaf x y/n #mike schmidt x y/n #fnaf movie #fnaf fanfic #slasher x reader #fanfiction #josh hutcherson

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monstersflashlight · 2 days

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Hear me out: a monster takes over an abandoned pool and reader decides to "ghost hunt" but instead find the monster in the pool

I don’t confirm nor deny this was inspired by The shape of water’s monster.

The abandoned pool

Gn!Water-monster x fem!human || oral sex, heavy dub-con, kinda cnc

You were determined to prove there were no ghosts in that place. The multiple vloggers who toured the place kept saying it was haunted, but there wasn't anything there. Just a big building full of dark corners and a full pool. The pool was the weirdest part in your opinion. It should have evaporated a long time ago, but it was still there. A full dark pool at the end of a long corridor. It was so creepy, morbid curiosity called you to it.

Your steps sounded so loud against the empty corridors. You approached the pool and laughed when you heard some splashing, probably some rats. You turned on the camera and set it at the entrance of the room, clearly facing the pool. You wanted to record yourself exploring it, so nobody else would have to come to see for themselves. So you could probe everyone how wrong they were about the ghosts.

You should have known better.

You approached the pool and opened your mouth to talk to the camera, but your words were cut short by a screech. A palmed hand darted out of the water and pulled you in. You fell into the pool like a sack of potatoes, water rapidly surrounding you. You couldn’t breathe, you were panicking. There was some sort of creature swimming around you, creating a turmoil in the water that made impossible for you to see what it was. You tried to pull yourself up, get some air in your lungs.

But then the creature stopped, the water clearing. A figure stood before you, so weird and so confusing. His face was flat, no nose, no visible lips, just two big white eyes without pupils and a big mouth full of sharp teeth. You screamed, but you just got some bubbles out, the water swallowing your fear. Their palmed hands grabbed your body, his clammy bluish skin touching yours, groping you. His touch was exploring, but uninvited, your panic rose again, the lack of air burning your lungs. You kicked them and swam up.

You got yourself free and pushed your body out of the water, breathing air in rapid pants. But you didn't get your whole body out, they caught you at the edge of the pool. Half your body out, your legs still submerged. He pulled down your pants, exposing your ass and pussy to the cold air. They launched right in, a harsh tongue entering you as they made out with your pussy. You could feel his fangs close to your clit, their mouth so big it covered you completely. Their palmed hands grabbed your ass, parting your ass cheeks to get better access to your pussy.

A primal part of you awoke right there, the assault to your pussy so weird but so good that you started to grind back against them. You felt embarrassed, ashamed and afraid, but you couldn’t deny the wetness in your pussy. They were lapping at your juices like it was ambrosia. You wanted to feel bad, you wanted to hate it, but it felt so good. So fucking good.

You came against a water-monster's face, grinding against them like your life depended on it. Your whole face flushed with embarrassment for being so needy against them.

They growled and your body shivered, their hands parting your ass cheeks once again. When you felt something entering you from behind, you pushed back your ass to bury them deeper, like a monster’s slut. You fucked yourself back against the intrusion, as the monster grunted behind you with each thrust. You felt naughty, like you were doing something really bad, but it wasn’t enough to make you stop.

The appendage inside of you felt weird and ridged, but fantastic against your thigh walls. They were relentless and you were desperately trying to get there, to cum again. It was like the first orgasm didn’t scratch the itch, just burned you faster, higher. You felt like you were about to explode against him. His clammy skin made a filthy sound when it hit your ass, and you were digging it. You were digging everything that was happening. And when they grabbed one of your boobs over your wet shirt and pinched your nipple, you started convulsing around their shaft. You felt them growling behind you as something warm and slimy filled your pussy.

After that, they finally let you go, winking at you from the pool as you pushed yourself out and walked on unsteady legs to your things and ran out of there. When you got home you realized the camera recorded everything. You just got yourself a monster porn movie. Starring yourself.

#monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #terato #water monster #water monster x reader #water monster x human #fem reader #gn monster #request

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kelin-is-writing · 1 year

Text

+18 MDNI

dabi x fem!reader; he’s so needy in this one my god, breeding kink, stomach bulge, creampie, oral (f!receiving), blow job. BE AWARE.

pussydrunk!dabi who just can’t help but let out a throaty dragged groan whenever he’s balls deep inside of you, tip kissing your cervix, and your walls clench around him like a vice making his turquoise eyes roll all the way back into his skull “f-fuck... it feels so damn good inside of you baby–!”, it’s what comes out of his gaping mouth all slurred, the warmness and wetness of your pussy around his cock making dabi’s brain become all mushy, no thoughts whatsoever, only him quivering at how blissful he was feeling in that moment, dick practically molding your walls into his shape, sending him in cloud nine.

he looks down watching how his cock disappears inside your pussy and then coming out covered in more juices he inhales a sharp breath from between gritted teethes “shit–!”, he would fuck you all day if it was for him, your cunt felt way too good to leave it empty.

when dabi’s eyes roam up and he sees the shape of his dick’s tip in your belly his breath hitch inside his throat, he secures his hold on your waist and lifting himself a little on his knees he angles his hips higher and then picks up pace, groaning along with each thrust while getting high on the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, the loud moans coming out from that pretty mouth of yours making the whole thing even better “aah fuck–! cumming! fuck fuck fuck. fuck–! i’m gonna cum so hard...”, he whimpers while resting his hands at the sides of your head, holding onto the sheets underneath you for dear life as his hips starts pounding inside your pussy at a speed that made you let out a choked moan; dabi stares your way dazed before he leans down looking at you with pleading eyes and cheeks tainted of pink as he panted, leaving you totally speechless at his state “lemme cum inside of you princess, please. i need it so fucking bad, wanna fill up your pretty pussy to the brim with my kids... allow me...”, the raven-haired boy spoke an inch away from your face with a needy low husky tone that was so hot and sexy, those butterflies inside your belly went crazy to say the least, how can you even say no to a request made in such an endearing way?

when dabi spills his seed into your cervix and long your walls, the both of you were in pure ecstasy, mind totally empty. you were panting at the fantastic sensation of his hot cum inside of you, body trembling uncontrollably from the aftermath of your own orgasm, while dabi is glancing down where you two are connected watching his cum pooling at the base of his cock “nnh... so fucking good... wanna stay inside of you forever baby.”, as he pushes his hips flush into yours mumbling about how he can’t let any of it spill, your pitiful whine because of the overstimulation making him groan before he thrusts slowly once into you for the sake of pushing as much seed as he can inside your hole.

pussydrunk!dabi who would seriously eat you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner, tongue flat on your cunt licking between your folds with long stripes or slurping on it loudly and languidly like a starved man eating a full course meal for the very first time.

dabi’s favorite position to eat you out is you sitting on his face, the smell of your arousal is enough to make him hard but the moment your pussy rests on his mouth he’s in heaven, eyes rolling back as his arms go to encircle your thighs to push you down even more on him, because that wasn’t enough, he needed more “ahh yeah... pure fucking bliss...”, he groaned while starting to makeout with your cunt, tongue teasing your entrance a few times deluding you into thinking he was gonna put it in before he goes to lick in circles your throbbing clit “shit... you taste so damn good doll, would devour you all day.”, comes a muffled praise from dabi that makes your pussy clench around nothing and that made such a sinful moan come out of his lips that got you now let out an especially loud one, his palms going to fondle your ass before they slid up to your waist rubbing circles on them and then higher, cupping your breasts gently before squeezing them. when you started grind your cunt against his mouth, you could feel a grin curl up dabi’s lips in satisfaction as he glanced intensely and feverishly at your pleading needy face “i got you baby.”, before he fluttered his eyes close to savour every second while pushing his tongue past your fold and inside your pussy, starting to slurp on it while tongue-fucking you and feeding off of your tasty juices and sublime moans not caring one bit about the fact that you were pulling on his hair whilst crying out in pleasure.

when you come all over his face, dabi groans along your moan with his cerulean irisies leaving space to pearl white, arms plopping wide open onto the mattress loudly as he drank every single drop of your juices like he hasn’t had something to drink in ages, his own cum dripping long his shaft and plastered all over his pelvis.

“thank you for the meal.”

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha #dabi #touya todoroki #bnha smut #mha smut #dabi smut #touya todoroki smut #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader smut #dabi x reader smut #touya todoroki x reader smut #pussydrunk!dabi #kelin 🖋#wanted to say that i'm a huge ass shameless dabi brain rot but like– when am i not really??

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giannaln4 · 4 months

Text

Away For Valentine's

lando norris x fem reader

summary: McLaren had the fantastic idea to launch their car on Valentine's day, and as much as you reassured Lando he didn't have to worry about it, he still wanted to make it up to you (1k words)

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: heyy everyone! so this is the very first fic i'm posting so please let me know what you think! i'm honestly pretty excited to get started with this blog so hopefully you guys like what i write. anyway please send some ideas my way!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

Valentine’s Day was off the table this year, and so was everything you had planned for you and your boyfriend.

You were disappointed when he shared the news with you, but you couldn’t be mad at him, not when it wasn’t his fault.

He saw the disappointment in your face, and how much you were trying to hide it by just smiling and nodding, your head finding a spot on his shoulder to avoid eye contact. He appreciated you understanding the situation, like you always did, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel guilty.

“I know we had plans-”

“Lan, don’t worry about it” You took a deep breath before looking at him again, trying to get rid of the sadness in your face “I mean it, we can do that some other time”

He was about to say something but a quick kiss on the lips stopped him. You proceeded to look at him, offering him a small smile and a glance that he knew meant ‘I don’t wanna talk about it’, so just nodded as he smiled back.

A few weeks go by and his winter break was coming to an end, meaning soon he’d have to leave the comfort of your shared home and go get started with his preseason duties. That’s something you were used to, having to see him leave for long periods of times but it barely ever affected your relationship. He always made sure he made enough time for you, even when the time difference was huge and he was feeling tired most of the time, he needed to make time for you. Your love for each other was so strong that, at the end of the day, you were just relieved you still had each other even if all you had was a five minute call every day.

But still, sometimes it was hard to see him go, and this time was one of those times.

The night you knew would be your last one with him before he left he decided to take you out on a date. Fancy clothes and an even fancier restaurant were your plans for the evening, and you knew he was trying to make up for Valentine's Day. It wasn’t the same, of course it wasn’t, but you still enjoyed every second of it.

The food, the small talk, the jokes, the stupid stories, the shy glances, the small touches, everything was perfect, almost making you forget he was getting on a plane in a matter of hours, but your smile slowly faded as soon as you remembered.

The ride back home was quieter than he would’ve liked, but he knew exactly what was going through your mind, and honestly he couldn’t blame you cause his mind was flooded with the same thoughts.

As soon as you got home he ran around the car and opened the door for you, offering his hand and kissing yours as soon as he took it. You smiled softly at him and you made your way to the door. Once you were inside, you dropped his hand to take off your shoes and tossed them somewhere close to the door, sighing in relief as you started walking towards your room.

“Mhm, come back here” He whispered as he grabbed your hand and pulled you back into him

“There you are” Lando smiled softly at you as his lips found yours. After a moment he broke the kiss, and both of his hands found a better spot on your waist as he started to move along the off-tune song he started to hum. You couldn’t contain your smile, quickly trying to keep up with him. You moved together in a slow dance, it was like your bodies were in perfect harmony.

Lando was looking down at you in pure admiration, almost as if he was trying to memorize every centimeter of your face so he wouldn't forget it while he was away, but you didn’t dare to look up, scared you would make eye contact with Lando and you wouldn’t be able to take it, so you safe option was to rest your head on his chest and pray you didn’t mess up. Although it wouldn’t matter if you did, you were just in the comfort of your living room anyway. But you didn’t wanna mess up.

He eventually stopped humming, hoping the silence would encourage you to look at him, but when you didn’t he moved one of his hands to cup your check, making you look at him. For a moment your eyes lock, making the silence feel very loud and Lando couldn’t help but smile at you, and you immediately blushed, but tried to play it off.

“You’re a terrible dancer” He laughed and you narrowed your eyes playfully and softly hit his shoulder.

“You’re one to talk” You joked, locking your fingers behind his neck and giggling when Lando scoffed.

“Maybe we should go out to dance and I could show you all of my moves” He started to move again, bringing you closer to him.

“I thought you didn’t like slow dancing”

“I do if I get to hold you this close to me” He replied, once again finding your lips.

This time the kiss was longer, both of them savoring each other’s lips while they still had the chance “I’m sorry about Valentine’s” He whispered once he pulled away, your forehead resting on his.

You giggled at this. You had assured him a million times he didn’t have to worry about that, and he still apologized every time he remembered “You need to stop apologizing”

“But I am sorry”

“I know, but it’s not your fault” You hand fell on his hair, slowly stroking his soft curls “And I had a great time tonight, so I’d say love is not dead”

He laughed at his, dimples appearing as his eyes vanish for a moment “I still wanna make it up to you”

“You will” You replied as your head fell back on his chest “But for now I just wanna enjoy this” You closed your eyes and inhaled his scent, and after a moment of complete silence you can feel him start moving again, his soft hums interrupting the peace his heartbeat was giving you.

#giannaln4 writes #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris one shot #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader

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staytheword · 1 year

Text

on my mind

on my mind — one shot request by anon [ masterlist ]

• han jisung x female reader.

• non idol au. roommates to lovers. mutual pining. drinking, mention of weed consumption, explicit language, explicit smut.

• smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — porn watching. handjob. oral sex (m receiving). thigh riding. fingering. use of "baby" pet name. protected sex.

• word count: 8.6k

You and Jisung are stressed over your upcoming exams. You need to clear your heads, but you can't find anything that works. That is, until Jisung suggests watching porn together.

• the prompt was friends "using" each other to take the stress out... I hope this will fill your expectations!! ♡

You slam your book closed, an annoyed sigh escaping your lips.

You can’t do this anymore.

You’ve been studying for hours. In fact, you’ve been studying for weeks preparing for those exams. Your eyes are about to melt, your body aching to move from your chair, your brain desperately seeking distraction. You’re sick of this. Sick of stressing yourself out, sick of only allowing yourself to think about what is in these books. The exams are still several days away and you’ll have time to fall back into your anxiety - for now, you deserve a break and you are going to take it.

Or you’re going to try.

It’s not the first time you tell yourself that - take a break, you deserve it. You close your books and computer, full of resolve, and escape the confines of your room. Each time you end up just pacing the apartment, unable to focus on the movie you’ve put on or the game you’ve started. Once you made it outside for a walk, but you had no idea where to go and ended up walking in circles. Your brain is so preoccupied with your exams you can’t do much else. You wake up and it’s all you think about - and before you know it you collapse on the bed, exhausted.

As you hear someone knock on your door, you blink and realize you’ve been phasing out. You shake your head, slide a hand through your hair - it has gotten too long in the past few weeks - and clear your throat.

“Come in,” you say, your voice a little rusty.

Jisung pokes his head in from behind the door. “Hey. You hungry?”

At least you are not alone. Jisung is going through the same thing as you, so you promised each other to do what is necessary to stay sane. Remind the other to eat, for instance, and then eat the meals together, even if it is in complete silence. You’re also very open about your stress, and you force each other to go out or clear your head. If he wasn’t here, you have no idea how you would get through this.

You hadn’t been sure about becoming Jisung’s roommate at the beginning of the year, but you didn’t regret your decision at all. Some of your friends had raised an eyebrow at you rooming up with a guy, but you trusted Jisung. You resembled each other in a few ways, but were different enough to keep the other on their toes. He was honest, hardworking, but also funny and open-minded. He bought your favorite snacks at the grocery store. He listened to you talk about your difficulties with building your thesis statements. He read your essay drafts and made useful feedback. He made fantastic homemade pizza. He was the best at impressions. He liked to braid your hair. Once he even restacked the pads when you were running low - that day you almost fell in love with him.

Almost.

You just had a stupid crush. Who wouldn’t? Jisung was not only kind and attentive, he was also incredibly handsome. Wavy dark hair that shone in the sun. A heart shaped smile that grew so big it swallowed your entire soul. Golden skin that was soft to the touch - you knew from applying a mask on him once. Wide shoulders, a lean and athletic body. You saw him do push ups in his room sometimes, or using the stationary bike you had in the living room. He wiped the sweat off his brow and gave you a smile, nodding his head to the beat of whatever song played in his headphones.

But Jisung was your friend, first and foremost. Right now, and up until your exams, he was also your ally, your lifeline. You remember, a few weeks back, when you both sat down in front of a bowl of soup and intertwined your pinkies.

We get through this together, you said.

Together, he repeated, his eyes deeply set in yours.

Now he smiled gently at you, his mouth a thin line, his eyes wide open but red and glassy from exhaustion.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I can cook something, if you want.”

“That’s ok, I got you,” he smiles. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll get you when it’s ready.”

You feel something tug at your heartstrings. “Thanks, Ji.”

With the sweetest smile, he gives you a little nod and disappears, carefully closing the door behind him. You breathe out in the silence, glancing back at your books. You could study a little while Jisung gets the food ready, but you are tempted to listen to him and lie down. A few minutes with your eyes closed couldn’t hurt.

You drag your feet to your bed, which is luckily not very far, and make the mistake of going under the covers. Your sheets are soft, your comforter heavy. The dim light in your room and the muffled noises of Jisung getting busy in the kitchen are so soothing you slip away quickly.

You wake up to a hand gently stirring you - you sit up in a jolt, blinking confusingly.

“Shit, what time is it?”

It feels like it’s been seconds and years. It’s definitely darker now, and your eyes are puffy with sleep, your skin a little tingly. You recognize Jisung’s silhouette in the darkness as he chuckles.

“I’m sorry to wake you up,” he whispers. “But you need to eat. Then you can go back to sleep, yeah?”

“R-right. Yeah. Okay.”

You throw open the covers and get out of bed, not even thinking about the fact that your hair must be a complete mess and your cheeks puffy with sleep. Jisung has seen you in worse states, anyway. You grab a hoodie as you follow him out of your room, one of your socks half slipped out from your foot.

“It smells really good, Ji,” you comment as you head to the kitchen.

He turns his head back to you with a smile. He’s wearing a red crewneck, gray sweatpants, and his slippers. You haven’t seen him out of such outfits recently, except for a few nights when he got dressed to go somewhere, but even then his style is always baggy. It’s for this reason you will never forget the one time he got dressed up for a date and wore a tighter shirt. That and the number of times you’ve seen him shirtless, of course. But that’s a whole other issue.

“It’s nothing fancy,” he says, gesturing to you to sit down at the kitchen island.

There is an actual table in the dining area, more than large enough for the both of you, but you rarely sit down there to eat. It usually serves as a storage area for random things like folded laundry, groceries, board games or books. Both of you prefer the kitchen island, perching atop the stools that you can twirl to your liking. Half the time you eat there, the other in the living room in front of the television.

Catching the sight of your hair in the kitchen window, you pull your hoodie on the top of your head and look down at the plate Jisung places in front of you. It is nothing fancy - pasta with creamy sauce, with chopped green onions sitting on top of it, but it smells absolutely delicious and makes your stomach growl.

“I think I’m drooling,” you state, glancing up at him. “I am so hungry, fuck.”

Jisung laughs, sitting down next to you with his own plate. “Parmesan?”

“Yes, please.”

He sprinkles some on your plate, and then on his, before you both start to eat in silence. There’s music playing on the speaker, a song you don’t recognize, and you ask Jisung about it. He tells you about this new band he’s discovered, and you quietly talk as you devour your plates. The sauce, smooth and peppery, is making your taste buds dance, and the food gives you a lot of energy. As you eat, the conversation gets more lively, and you suggest making coffee for dessert. Jisung agrees, and after you insist on doing the dishes first, he says he’ll wait for you in the living room. You hear the familiar song of a game he likes to play and get started on the dishes. As you put down the clean dishes in the drying rack, you sigh.

A nap. Homemade food. Jisung’s smile. All of these things reassure you, and make you feel peaceful - so why is there such a tight knot at the bottom of your stomach? Why can’t it go away, even for just a few hours?

You should study again after this.

Drink your coffee with your nose in your books.

You’re wasting valuable time.

You shut your eyes tight, taking a deep breath as you dry your hands.

When you sit down on the couch next to Jisung, near the edge of the cushion, not getting too comfortable, you put down his mug of coffee on the table and keep yours in your hands. He shoots you a quick glance.

“Thanks.”

You just smile back, a feeble attempt for one, but Jisung catches it. He glances back one more time, frowns. You wish you weren’t that easy to read. You wish you could take a deep breath and smile and he would believe it when you said you were fine. But you’ve never been very good at that.

Still, Jisung says nothing. He pauses his game, turns the spoon in his coffee mug to mix in the milk. You just stare at yours, the black coffee almost staring back.

“I should…” You hesitate for a second, then shake your head. “Yeah, I should get back to it.”

You stand up quickly, hoping to be able to run away before Jisung says anything, but you feel his fingers close around your hand. You look down at him in surprise. He looks at you with wide eyes, looking confused and maybe even slightly annoyed.

“Right now?” he says. “I thought you’d get some rest.”

“I did,” you shrug, nibbling on your lower lip. “There’s too much to do, and…”

“Y/N,” he stops you, shaking his head. “You need to take a break. We need to take a break.”

You part your lips to retaliate, but Jisung removes his hand from yours and pats the couch.

“Sit down, please.”

His voice is low, a little rusty. You swallow, your mouth dry. If only your chest didn’t feel so empty, your heart would be pounding in your chest.

“I know you’re anxious,” he tells you softly, playing nervously with his fingers. “I am, too. But aren’t you getting tired of, like… just stressing out?”

You chuckle a little bitterly, looking at Jisung. The light of the television reflects on his skin, mixed with the orange glow of the lamp. The circles under his eyes are dark. His lips are chapped. His nose is still a little red from the cold he had last week. You feel a pang of longing.

“Of course I am,” you sigh. “But we just have to get through it, right? We just need to make it there.”

He nods. “I know, but I’m scared of what we’re losing in the process. It can’t be healthy to just study all the time like we do.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

He shrugs, leaning back into the couch. His hoodie skirts up his stomach a little as he stretches his arms. You catch a glimpse of skin, of an abdominal muscle. It almost makes your brain glitch.

“I don’t know,” he breathes. “A distraction? Just for one night.”

When he sees your hesitation, Jisung quickly continues.

“I don’t mean dressing up and going outside and being social. Just the two of us, I mean. We can watch a movie, play games… get high.”

That makes you smile. “We don’t have any more weed since the cookie disaster.”

“Fuck, that’s right,” he laughs. “But it doesn’t matter. We just need to clear our heads, y’know? Think about something else. Be in denial about the exams. Like they’re not even going to happen.”

You take a deep breath, still hesitant. Your heart desperately wants to say yes, but your brain is holding back. The voice in your head, telling you you shouldn’t. You don’t want it to whisper your guilt back to you all night.

“Please, Y/N,” Jisung suddenly adds. There’s something in his voice that catches your attention. Sadness. Despair. “I don’t want to do it without you. We said we’d go through this together, right?”

You shake your head, staring down at the pinkie finger he is now holding up between you. He’s playing with your heartstrings and he knows it, but you don’t blame him. It’s working too well. There’s not much you would refuse him, anyway - but you don’t tell him that. Instead you smile and wrap your pinkie around his.

“Okay,” you say softly. “Let’s be in denial together.”

Jisung grins and you laugh, hitting his arm.

“It’s not fair that you used the wounded puppy eyes, by the way.”

“I would never,” Jisung says, shaking his head.

You take a careful sip of coffee, which is still a little too hot, but the warmth feels nice in your throat. Jisung grabs the second controller and presents it to you.

“You want to join?”

Although you are not very good at this game you agree, because you figure it will be a good way to start off the evening. As you pound on the buttons and try not to get Jisung killed in the game, you feel your shoulders relax. It doesn’t make the knot go away, but you do get a little giddy at the idea of not returning to your books tonight. That - and the perspective of spending the next hours with Jisung makes you a little more happy than it should. You already spend a lot of time together, so why would this evening be different? But it still feels like it.

Once the coffees are empty and the campaign is over, you and Jisung settle on a movie you both wanted to see for a while. You settle on opposite sides of the couch as you usually do, but you end up stretching your legs so much your feet rest against Jisung’s legs, and he doesn’t complain. He even puts a warm hand on your ankle at some point, distracting you a little from the movie.

The movie ends too quickly, and you end up in the kitchen cleaning the mugs and staring at each other.

“What now?” you chuckle. “It’s still early. Unless you want to go to bed…”

“No way,” he replies. “I want to make this last as much as possible.”

He is looking at you as he says that, his hair sticking out behind his head because of the way he was slumped on the couch for the duration of the movie, and your heartbeat accelerates. You feel a hotness on the back of your neck and you rub it with your hand.

“Then maybe we can… Take a walk? It’s not raining or anything.”

“Snack run? Then we can find something else to watch.”

“Sounds good.”

You don’t bother getting changed because it’s dark outside and the grocery store is just around the corner. Besides, you live in a neighborhood that is mostly composed of other students, so two people in sweatpants and hoodies isn’t uncommon at all. After getting plenty of snacks, you head back towards your shared apartment, talking in calm voices. The streets are not too busy, and it’s only slightly chilly. You glance up at the sky, walking slowly, your hand brushing Jisung’s.

At one point, you realize you are only talking about school and your exams, so Jisung shakes his head.

“We are so bad at this whole ‘think about something else’ thing,” he laughs.

You sigh. “We really are. God, this is hard.”

“We need to find a really good distraction. Something that would really, really disconnect our brains, like…”

He stops and you look at him with a frown. “Like what?”

“I dunno,” he answers a little too quickly. “We have to find something, is what I’m saying.”

“Yeah,” you agree in a whisper, glancing back at him curiously.

You could swear he is blushing.

“How about drinking?” he offers. “Not too much so we don’t get headaches, but a little. Being tipsy can maybe help us get inspiration.”

“I like the idea,” you smile.

Once you are back inside your apartment, your sneakers exchanged for slippers, you grab a bottle of soju from the fridge and fill two glasses. You and Jisung sit on the floor, backs leaning against the couch, and clink your glasses together. Jisung chooses a random movie on Netflix, and you watch it for a few minutes, unable to concentrate on it. After you’ve taken a few sips, you let out a sigh.

“You know what would be easier? If we weren’t single.”

Jisung arches an eyebrow.

“I mean, we could just call them,” you explain. “Get laid. Get a massage. Make out for hours. That would be really good distraction.”

“It would,” Jisung laughs. “Don’t you have someone you could call?”

“Like a fuck buddy?” you say. “Jisung, you seem to forget how excruciatingly single and bad at flirting I am.”

“You can’t be worse than me,” he smiles, taking another sip from his glass. “Last time I tried to get laid I got stood up.”

“She was a bitch,” you point out.

Jisung shakes his head. “I thought personality doesn’t matter when it comes to hooking up.”

“That’s not exactly true.”

“Like you’re such a pro at this, huh?”

You gasp at Jisung’s jab, shoving him with your elbow. “That was so mean!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, holding his palms up. “I mean, if a massage would do it for you, I can try.”

You scrunch your nose. “Nah, thank you. I’m actually not much of a massage person.”

“How can you not be a massage person?!”

You keep talking and laughing, watching the movie sometimes, and for a while, you think that you’ve actually succeeded at clearing your heads. You feel lighter, distracted. The alcohol and Jisung’s laugh help a lot. But eventually you breathe out and realize that the knot is still there. Insistent. It almost feels like it’s getting bigger. Beside you, you can feel that Jisung is the same. His shoulders are tense, and his eyes, while fixated on the screen, are not seeing anything. You’re a little tipsy so you grab the controller and press pause.

“Ji, this isn’t working.”

He turns towards you, looking sheepish. “I know. I’m sorry…”

“We need something more drastic.”

He gives you a little nod, and you squint.

“What was the idea you had earlier?”

His head shoots up and you can see panic in his eyes. “What? What idea?”

“Don’t lie to me,” you tell him. “I know your idea face. You thought of something back there, when we were walking back.”

And there it is - Jisung blushes again, shaking his head vehemently. “Oh. Oh, no. It wasn’t… It’s stupid. It’s not - I just mean it’s… No.”

You turn your body completely towards his, drawing your knees against your chest. “Ji, come on. Tell me. I’m not going to judge.”

He gives you a timid look, and empties his soju glass before he clears his throat. You do not know why, but your heart is pounding in your chest.

Jisung breathes deeply.

“I was just thinking, that when I need a distraction, like… When I really want to think about something else, I…”

“Yes?” you encourage him.

“I jerk off.”

You stare back at him in shock. You should’ve expected this. You were an idiot not to catch it earlier on. It was a logical answer - and something you’ve tried yourself numerous times in the past couple of days. Slipping your fingers in your underwear, stimulating yourself. Watching porn. But when you did succeed at your orgasms, they always felt underwhelming. They never left you feeling appeased, just even more tense.

“Oh,” you breathe out.

“I told you it was stupid! I shouldn’t have -”

“It’s not stupid,” you shrug, and it’s your turn to empty your glass.

You’re not drunk. You’re just a little tipsy. It’s not barely enough to have this kind of conversation with your roommate - one you have a huge crush on - but it will have to do. You want Jisung to feel comfortable with you. And it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, right? That’s what people always say. So why is talking about it so hard, why is your heart pounding, why is the thought of Jisung jerking off turning you on so goddamn much?

Jisung blinks at you. “It’s not?”

“Of course not,” you smile a little nervously. “I… I do it too, when I want to relax.”

He visibly gulps, but you take it as embarrassment.

“Don’t we all?” you add, a little nervously.

He nods quickly, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Your cheeks are hot, horribly hot. You need some air. You need another drink. Ten, even.

“I mean, if you want some time alone…”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jisung says. “I just, I mean, you know my friend Minho?”

You nod. “Yeah, why?”

“He told me about one time, he and his friend, I mean they were dating so it’s not the same, but they - hm, they… They watched porn together.”

It feels like you can barely breathe. Did it suddenly get very warm in your living room? Because your skin feels like it’s on fire and neither you or Jisung can look at each other directly.

“People really do that?” you say in a weak voice.

“Apparently,” Jisung chuckles nervously. “He said it was really fun, so… Yeah, I don’t know why I thought about that.”

There’s a short silence as you try to make sense of what Jisung is telling you. Is he just telling an anecdote, or is he asking for something? If you agree, will he think you’re crazy or weird? Maybe he’s just sharing. You decide there’s not much to lose. If you are misunderstanding, you can just laugh and pretend you’re joking.

Your voice is gentle, not very assumed. “You… you want us to watch porn together?”

Jisung shoots you a very panicked look and for a second you think you’ve just made a huge fool of yourself. But he opens his mouth and stammers out a yes.

“C-could be fun, I guess?” he adds.

You breathe out, your heart beating so fast you are sure Jisung can hear it. Surely, he can hear it. How terrified you are terrified at the prospect of watching porn with him. How much you never would’ve thought this could happen. How much you want to do it now.

“We really don’t have to, it’s just a stupid idea, and -”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Jisung looks at you. “R-really?”

“Sure, why not,” you say more decisively, giving him a tight nod. “We can comment on it and everything. Could be fun. I mean, it’s just porn, right? We watch it all the time.”

You realize your mistake too late, your smile faltering on your lips.

“I - I mean, I do, not all the time, but sometimes, like all people do, and…”

“You heard me that time, didn't you?” Jisung sighs, slamming his palm against his forehead.

You can’t hold back a smile this time - a genuine one. Jisung groans as you bite your lip, trying to hold back your laughter.

“Just say it,” he sighs.

“I heard you that time.”

Jisung’s head drops forward in his hands and you chuckle, your shoulders shaking.

“It’s okay, Ji, it’s not -”

“The ONE time!” he cries out, looking up at you. You love the smile on his face, both embarrassed and amused, horrified and shy. “The one time I forget to plug in my headphones… I realized too late…”

“It’s fine,” you repeat, not thinking, and place a hand on his thigh to squeeze it briefly. “It’s just porn, Ji. And I know you’re into hentai, so don’t be ashamed, please. I like it too.”

Jisung looks at you like his brain is short-circuiting. “You - what - how do you know that?”

“I was in the room with you and Minho that time you talked about it, remember?” You smile. “Also, it’s the second time his name comes up in our conversation about porn, this is getting weird.”

Jisung shrugs. “Eh, the man is shameless. But you’re right, I remember now. God, that is embarrassing.”

“It isn’t,” you smile, twirling your empty glass in your hand. You don’t want to drink anymore - this is already too much adrenaline for you. “I just confessed I’m into it, too. Do you think that’s weird?”

“Not at all. I think that’s… hot.”

You smile, feeling your cheeks burn, but you do not know what to answer. Instead, you fill your lungs with air and gather your courage.

Jisung is observing his nails very carefully.

“So, shall we?” you say, trying to sound confident.

Jisung glances up at you, searching your eyes for an instant. You guess he must be looking for hesitation, or trying to figure out if you really want this or are doing it just to please him, so you just smile calmly, although you’re unable to hold back your nervousness.

“Let’s do it,” he answers with a sharp nod.

For good measure, you each pour yourself another drink, and Jisung gets his laptop to plug it so the browser is projected on the television. You wrap your arms around your legs, looking up nervously at the screen. Jisung’s fingers hover over the keyboard.

“S-so, is there a website you like?” he asks.

“Hm,” you answer, letting out a shaky breath. “Not really. You can go to the one you usually go to. If you’re okay with that.”

“Sure,” Jisung breathes.

It takes him a few more seconds but he eventually types in a website and you let out a giggle as the welcome page pops up on the screen.

“What?”

“It’s just - it’s also the one I use,” you admit, and Jisung grins.

“Really? I like this one because of the categories. They’re a little unusual but so much fun for discovering new stuff.”

“And the mobile site is so well made,” you add with enthusiasm. “Not like other websites which are impossible to navigate on your phone…”

“Ugh, tell me about it.”

You laugh, relieved that this is already easier than you thought it would be. Of course, you haven’t actually put on any porn yet, but at least you are learning to speak of it more or less comfortably.

A short silence follows as Jisung scrolls up and down the page, and you glance at the thumbnails. Schoolgirls. Medieval fantasy. Monsters. After a minute, Jisung lets out a sigh.

“I guess we just have to choose one,” he says.

You bite your lip. “Type in Labyrinth in the search bar.”

Jisung looks at you, but he still does it. You point out the thumbnail you recognize, feeling almost dizzy.

“I like this one,” you say in a very soft voice. “The story’s actually really good.”

“O-okay.”

Taking a sharp breath, Jisung clicks on the link and the video opens up. He puts it on full screen, and it feels different to watch it on the television. You roll your arms around yourself, feeling terribly shy, and Jisung sits on the couch next to you - at a reasonable distance, of course. You clink your glasses together and take a sip of soju.

It’s not so bad at first. There’s an actual story to this video that you enjoy, but you know it doesn’t last that long. You are terrified of what Jisung might say, that he might laugh at you, but you try your best not to overthink everything. As the sex scenes are coming closer, you realize you have not yet exchanged a word and there is still the embarrassing issue of actually getting turned on. You really haven’t thought this through, you think to yourself as the characters start to undress each other.

Oh, God.

Kisses. Fondling. The wet sounds of the guy’s fingers slipping into the girl’s dripping folds. You breathe in slowly - but there’s a reason you love this video. It really pushes your buttons, so you can’t help but feel your walls clench around nothing. You should think about something else. You can’t focus too much on this. But you’re already getting wet and your eyes can’t leave the screen because if they do, they’ll inevitably fall on Jisung.

Your friend. Your roommate. Your crush. Who is sitting next to you, watching your favorite porn video with you. Oh, God.

On the screen, the guy buries his head in between her legs. Licks her wetness as she moans his name. The images are one thing - the sounds are another.

You’re burning up, pushing your thighs together, trying to stay discreet.

As the girl’s pleasure builds, the subtitles translate her moans for you. Wanted this for so long, your tongue feels so good buried in me. That’s when you feel Jisung move beside you. Your eyes are instinctively drawn to him, and you catch a glimpse of his parted mouth, his red cheeks, his hazy eyes.

He has his legs propped up against him. You wonder if he’s as turned on as you. Maybe not. Maybe this isn’t doing it for him.

You focus back on the screen as the girl comes, squirting around the guy’s face. He chuckles, and asks her to suck his cock. She bends down to do it, and Jisung breathes out sharply.

“The- the animation’s really good,” he says weakly, and you are quick to nod.

“Yeah, right? The movements are really smooth,” you comment.

Jisung smiles nervously. “Yeah. I - I like it.”

You want to keep talking, but you don’t know what to say. The questions that burn the tip of your tongue cannot be asked, not really, not right now. You and Jisung are friends who watch porn together. You are not involved. You are not dating. This is just a distraction.

But now you are horny as fuck and getting tense. You need to relieve the pressure between your legs or you will go crazy. You can already feel your mind buzzing.

The girl is giving the guy a sloppy blowjob. He is groaning loudly, which is something you like about this video, and she hums in pleasure.

“The voice acting isn’t that bad, right?” you say. “I like it when we can hear the guy, too.”

“You do?” Jisung asks. “I thought girls didn’t like hearing us.”

“Oh my God, it’s literally the opposite,” you chuckle. “Hearing the guys groan and moan is the hottest thing ever.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Ji. Be as vocal as possible, I promise it’s going to make them come quicker.” You shrug. “I mean, I can’t speak for everyone. But it would do it for me.”

Jisung nods, and you both turn back to the screen just in time for the guy plunging his cock deep inside his partner, making her gasp in pleasure. The squelching noises are turned up, and she is visibly dripping all around him, precum and juices staining the sheets of the bed.

Yes, fuck me deep, your cock is so big, oh my god!

You close your eyes, shifting your hips in a desperate attempt to rub yourself against something, but there’s nothing to do - your cunt is just throbbing, and you can feel your slick drenching your underwear. You’re so hot, you want to remove your hoodie, but you also can’t move.

You lose track of time a little when Jisung’s voice reaches your ears.

“S-sorry,” he says in a breathy voice. “I can’t help it.”

You glance at him and notice he has stretched his legs. His gray sweatpants hide absolutely nothing of his erection and you stare at the outline of his cock, hard and thick. You could moan out loud at the mere sight, but by miracle you are able to hold it in. You had noticed Jisung was, let’s say, well equipped, but you did not expect this.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s fine,” you whisper, shaking your head, finally looking up at him. “I’m really wet, too.”

Jisung’s cock twitches under his pants and he closes his eyes sharply. “Fuck, don’t tell me that.”

“S-sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the porn on the television, your own arousal, your repressed crush for Jisung or the sight of his stiff cock, but you’re unable to think straight and the words come out of your mouth unprovoked.

“Ji, do you… do you want some help?”

The thought that you could actually touch him makes your mouth water. You’ve thought about it before, wrapping your hands around him. Closing your lips around his length. Licking him clean. Maybe it’s not as impossible as you thought. Maybe you aren’t that foolish to think it could happen.

Jisung stammers for a few seconds because he gulps. “A-are you really asking?”

You nod faintly. “I can jerk you off.”

He stares at you, mouth open. “I mean - If - if- if you’d like it.” He seems to catch himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You don’t have to, Y/N, it’s…”

“I don’t mind,” you answer. “I - I’d like it, but only if you want to.”

“R-right. Hm, okay. But only if you’re sure…”

You just shuffle closer to him, kneeling beside his body. His smell overwhelms you, so him, his cologne and his soap, soju and candy, and your hands are shaking as you reach for his pants. You hesitate, though, realizing what you are about to do. You’re scared he doesn’t really want this, you’re scared of what it will change, but before you can start to doubt too much, Jisung slides down his sweatpants and takes his cock out himself.

“H-here.”

He holds it up for you although he wouldn’t have to. He is so hard it looks painful, veins bulging, slightly curved, pre-cum glistening at the tip. You bite your lip, pressing your legs together, and you’re sitting so close to Jisung you feel his breath in your hair.

You reach out and wrap your fingers around his cock. It’s warm and pulsating, and Jisung lets out a whimper. You move your hand upwards and downwards, getting used to him, barely seeing the porn that is still ongoing on the screen. All you hear are moans and the wet sounds of fucking and kissing, and it helps you not think too much about what is happening, like it’s not real, like it’s part of the porn. Your fingers slide up to his tip, smearing the pre-cum over Jisung’s cock, and you jerk your hand a little faster.

Jisung lets out a choked moan and his forehead falls against the side of your head. His arm slides around your body, holding you close, the other resting on the couch, gripping the fabric.

“F-fuck, ah, ah, fuck,” he whispers in your ear, and the sound is like the sweetest music.

Is Jisung enjoying this? You giving him a handjob while watching porn? This can’t be real. This is the hottest thing you've ever done.

“Is that okay?” you ask him softly.

“F-feels p-perfect,” he grunts, bucking his hips against your hand. “Y/N…”

The sound of your name draws a shaky breath from your lips, and your other hand grabs his thigh, squeezing it a little. You try to remain steady, intoxicated by the sounds coming from the television, Jisung’s noises, his cock around your hand, him fucking your palm.

“I’m n-not going to last,” Jisung whimpers, and you slide up your other hand to cup his balls. That draws a loud grunt from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N!”

“Hold on,” you whisper, feeling drunker than if you had emptied a bottle of soju by yourself. “I want to suck you off.”

It might be your only chance. You want to make this moment last - so you have something to think about, the next time your roommate comes into your mind. The next time you dream about Jisung being yours. The next time you tell yourself there is no way he can like you back. You can at least let him go knowing he’s come once around your hands, around your lips.

“Y-you sure?”

You nod, shuffling back on the couch a little, bending forward so your lips come into contact with his cock. Jisung buries his fingers in your hair, pulling them together to keep them away from your face. You kiss his tip, your right hand still moving, your left holding his balls.

“Holy fuck, Y/N… This feels incredible… I’m not…”

“Just let go, Ji,” you whisper, perhaps a little too tenderly.

You wrap your mouth around his cock, taking him in. You glance up to see his eyes roll back. You’re pretty sure the sex scene is over on the screen, because people are talking, but neither of you are paying any attention. You bob your head, licking every inch of him, and Jisung thrusts his hips slowly, fucking your mouth gently.

“I’m gonna blow, fuck, please, ah - ah, FUCK -”

He comes quickly and suddenly, his cum filling your mouth, salty and warm. His cock keeps throbbing between your lips, and Jisung is breathing heavily, his fingers still resting in your hair, all tangled. You take the time to lick him clean, gently, carefully.

When you sit up, his hand slides down your arm to your leg, and you look at him. He’s not moving, head thrown back, his hair over his slightly sweaty face, his clothes in disarray.

This is a sight you’ll never forget.

A taste you’ll never forget.

You feel something tighten in your chest.

You’ve fallen so hard for him.

“Y/N…” he breathes after a few seconds, raising his head to look at you.

His hands reach for you, and you let him. His hand grazes your cheek, the other gripping your own. You slide your fingers in between his, feeling a little shy.

“That was unreal,” he breathes, leaning in towards you.

He doesn’t kiss you, neither does he hug you - he just presses his body against yours, pressing his lips against your hair. It’s such a tender gesture you feel your heart swell in your chest and you ache for touch. You don’t expect anything. You want to run away to touch yourself, to fuck yourself thinking of him, but you don’t want to leave his warmth.

“Come here,” he whispers. “It’s your turn.”

Your heart skips a beat. You want to tell him he doesn’t have to, but he’s already wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer. You end up on his lap, and instinctively you guide your legs so you straddle one of his legs, your core flush on his thigh.

The pressure, despite the layers of clothing, draws a moan from between your lips and you dig your fingers in his skin.

“Jisung…”

“Does that feel good?” he asks in a whisper.

When you nod, Jisung raises his thigh a little, applying more pressure on your cunt, and the wave of pleasure makes you arch your back and grind against him.

“Don’t hold back,” he breathes as you start to roll your hips. “Like you told me. Just let go.”

He places a hand on the small of your back, accompanying you in your movements. He breathes in your neck, warming up and tickling your skin, your cunt clenching tighter and tighter. His thigh is tense, pressing against all the right places, and you can’t stop moaning.

You push yourself up a little, pressing a hand against his chest, and you want to get rid of all those clothes, and feel him under your skin, but you can’t stop moving, and you are so close to coming.

Jisung is breathing hard against you, pushing his leg upwards, his hands massaging your waist, helping you move as you ride his thigh. “That’s it, baby…”

The nickname alone almost ends you.

He kisses your collarbone and you think you might explode. “You sound so good. I’m so fucking obsessed with you,” he says.

The words take your breath away. You shudder, your fingers squeezing his as you roll your hips a little slower. “You - what?”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you. “Baby, please, can I make you cum?”

You just nod, his words echoing in your mind, unable to be truly grasped as your orgasm builds up. His hand slides down your pants and he pushes his fingers under your panties, pressing them against your wetness. You let out a moan at the direct contact, feeling your body jolt.

“You’re so wet,” Jisung groans in your ear.

You can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re already so close to your climax that when Jisung starts to circle your clit, pushing his fingers in between your folds, it only takes a few seconds for you to come undone, breathing out his name. It feels like a tidal wave, like a power surge, like everything you have dreamed of. You feel him smile, his fingers teasing you until you have to grab his wrist and pull them away.

“S-sensitive,” you chuckle, unable to open your eyes, feeling drained.

He nods with a soft laugh. You can feel against your leg that he’s hard again, but he doesn’t do anything. He just looks at you as you try to steady your breathing, your legs trembling. You don’t want to move - he is so warm next to you. But eventually, you realize the position you are in, and so you slide off him. Jisung helps you, his hands guiding you back on the couch beside him.

You feel breathless, like you’ve just ran a marathon. Once your eyes are able to focus, you stare at the screen without really seeing it. You try to grasp what has just happened. You wonder what’s next. You are afraid.

“Y/N…”

Jisung’s voice reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. What now? Can you stay roommates? Can you even stay friends? Your heartbeat accelerates and you sit up on the couch, suddenly feeling antsy.

“I - I should… I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Y/N, wait -”

You know it’s unfair, but you ignore him and quickly walk away. You close the bathroom door, breathing out. And then the oddest thing happens.

You smile.

You giggle in surprise, putting your fingers to your lips. Fuck, you can’t stop smiling. You should be nervous, you should be terrified. But none of those feelings are lasting - you are only smiling like an idiot. Jisung’s words resonate in your head. I’m so fucking obsessed with you.

Sometimes things need to change. Sometimes they should. Sometimes they are meant to.

When you open the bathroom door again, Jisung is waiting for you on the other side. His big eyes are filled with worry, pleading, and fear.

“Y/N, please, listen -”

You don’t think. You just kiss him.

Jisung does not move at first, and when you take a step back, your cheeks burning up, he stares at you with shock.

“What are you -”

“I like you,” you blutter out. “I like you a lot.”

It takes another second, but Jisung’s lips curve into a smile. His eyes do not leave yours, but the light in them changes. Soon his heart-shaped grin makes your heart swell in your chest, and he’s picking you up in his arms and kissing you again.

You push him gently against the wall. “Please touch me again.”

You guide his hands on your waist, and he breathes hard in your mouth.

“I like you so much,” Jisung says, and his lips brush against your ear, making you breathe out. “I have such a massive crush on you. Never let myself act on it… I was too scared, you know.”

“I know,” you whisper back. “Me too.”

“I like everything about you,” he whispers. “Your laugh. Your passion. Your smell. Your skin… Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are. How fucking sexy.”

You part your mouth wider, and he pushes his tongue against yours, playing with it, his teeth teasing your lips. His hard cock is pressing against you, making you crave him again, and you want to feel him inside of you, so deep you can never be separated again.

“Can I take you back to my room?” he asks in between two kisses. “I want to fuck you in my bed.”

You feel yourself throbbing and you can’t hold back a moan as you nod.

It happens fast - Jisung takes your hand and guides you to his room. You’re pretty sure the porn is still playing on the television back in the living room, but who cares? You only have eyes for Jisung.

You know his room so well. The smells, the colors. The desk, the blankets, the clothes. The stickers on the window. Yet it all looks different as you step inside holding Jisung’s hand. He draws you close, bringing you back into a kiss. You collapse against him, letting him guide you to his bed.

He lifts you like you’re a feather, laying you down, his body above yours. Jisung is quick to cover your neck with kisses, his wet lips smearing saliva on your skin. He removes your hoodie, palms your breasts, who are only covered by a tank top.

“Fuck, those tits…”

You can hardly breathe, loving each of his caresses. The sheets smell so much like him it’s almost overwhelming. After removing the rest of your clothes, he spends a long time kissing and licking your breasts, playing with your nipples, drawing hisses and moans from your lips. After a while you whimper in protest, because your walls are begging for him.

“Ji, please…”

His mouth breaks into a grin, and he comes back to push his lips against yours. He kisses you surprisingly tenderly, and you moan against his mouth, because this feels so right, so true. His fingers stroke your hair, your cheek, and your hands travel down his back and then upwards, lifting his crewneck. He removes it, and you arch your back against him, your nipples pressed against his chest, his lips ardently seeking yours.

Soon he is naked too, and as he keeps kissing you, his cock teases your wetness. From his shuddered breathing, you know he can’t wait much longer, and you squeeze his arm, hoping he understands your signal. It seems like he does, because he sits up a little, leaning towards his bedside table to open a drawer. He fumbles inside of it, muttering nonsense, until he finally pulls out a condom. You giggle and Jisung laughs with you, and you feel warmer than you ever have.

Once Jisung has safely put on the condom, he guides his cock against your entrance and glances at you.

“Can I - I mean - You sure?”

“Yes,” you nod.

You wish you could look at his length disappearing inside of you, just because you’ve desired it so much, but once Jisung enters you, your head falls back on the pillow. He goes slow, leaving you time to adjust, stopping when you breathe a little more sharply. It takes a minute, but eventually he fills you up, and you wrap your arms around him, breathing out.

“Are you okay?”

You nod. “Sorry. It’s just been a while.”

“There’s no rush,” he tells you softly. “We can go slow.”

You smile, pulling him into a kiss.

“Just tell me if it’s too much,” he breathes in your ear.

He starts to move, thrusting his hips carefully. Your body recovers quickly, though, and soon you can shift your hips alongside his, easing his movements. He fucks you gently and deeply, sending shivers up your spine, and you’ve certain you’ve never had sex like this. You breathe together, move together, moan together.

You take your time, your orgasm rising slowly and surely. You dig your fingers in his skin, shudder when you hear him grunt. You shift positions after some time, so that your legs can be wrapped more easily around his waist, and he’s so deep inside of you that you feel your walls throb with pleasure.

“J-just like that,” you whisper to him. “Fuck, I’m coming…”

“I can feel you,” he whimpers. “Come, baby, I’m so close too…”

You cry out in his neck, the sound slightly muffled, and Jisung follows you seconds afterwards. You feel every throb of his release. You’re still shivering as he looks down in panic.

“Fuck, I’m - I’m sorry, I didn’t pull out…”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “There’s the condom, and I take the pill…”

He still looks worried so you kiss him, feeling at peace. You are safe, you feel safe. Jisung eventually relaxes, and after throwing away the condom, he slumps on the bed beside you, snuggling his head in the crook of your neck. His fingers brush your cheek to put a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I want to make you cum every day,” he says gently. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock.”

“Hmm,” you smile. “I like that idea.”

“Yeah?” he grins. “I want to sleep next to you. See your face in the morning, the sunshine against your cheeks… Your arms wrapped around me.”

With every sentence he places a kiss, making you sleepy and perfectly awake at the same time, your mind consumed by the images he draws.

“I want to keep cooking for you. Make you smile. Drive you to the dentist…”

“Jisung, you don’t have a car,” you laugh.

“I’ll get one. And I want to get rid of those fucking doors between us.”

“Jisung.”

You open your eyes, grab his face so he looks at you in the eyes.

“Will you kiss me?”

Jisung pushes your hair away from your face and does exactly that.

Some time later, you smile.

You have not drawn the curtain yet, so the moonlight penetrates the window, illuminating the room in soft blues. You graze your nose against Jisung’s chest, listening to him breathe. He’s slowly falling asleep beside you, the covers drawn over your naked bodies.

“Hey, you know what? It worked. I haven’t thought about studying all night,” you whisper to him.

You hear him chuckle. “Hm. I don’t even know what you’re referring to. My head is completely empty.”

“So is mine,” you say with a laugh, planting a kiss on his warm skin. “I can’t even remember what day of the week this is.”

“I can only think about you,” Jisung replies, stroking your hair. “I like you a lot.”

“Me too, Ji. Me too.”

I'm so sorry for not updating as much as I used to. I hurt my shoulder pretty bad and couldn't write for a while, and now my head won't let me.

Let me know if you enjoyed this! Thank you for all of your support and love. ♡

taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @leedunno ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134 ; @sstarryoong ; @alexis-reads-fics ; @luvsskz ; @beautifulcolorgarden ; @sensitiveandhungry

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jarofstyles · 1 month

Text

Take Me Higher

Happy 4/20 my lovelies. I just whipped this up quickly so I hope you guys enjoy it 🫣

Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings!

Send requests here

WC- 2.5k

Warnings- use of marijuana, high users, switch!H, choking, cum play, etc

Picture is not mine, credits to owner

————-

The smoke had cleared out of the room but it was a bit cold still from the chill of the night. It wasn’t quite warm enough to be spring in her humble opinion, but she’d take what she could get. Plus, Harry had brought her some food stuff for them and she was feeling the effects kicking in as she felt a weight settle on her body. Her eyes were hooded and she was a little giggly as his scent engulfed her, vanilla and tobacco more prominent than the smell she tried to keep from her place.

“Mm… you’re warm.” A cool nose brushed her throat, making her shiver as the man crawled up her body and rested himself on top of her. Harry always got like this when they smoked, but it seemed even more prominent today.

“And you’re a needy little thing.” Fingers carded through his hair, knocking the beanie off his head as he buried his face in her neck. There was no real response except a whine, breath warm on her skin as he tried to warm himself up. The window had to be opened so they’d not get any real complaints from their flat, but luckily they were sure her neighbor wasn’t home today.

Comfortable silence made her melt further into the sofa, the playlist on low as her eyes fluttered shut and she busied herself with playing with his hair. He’d been a good smoking buddy for a while, but she knew why he really came over. It was only a matter of time.

A large hand slipped under her body, wiggling itself under her top to feel the hot expanse of her back. He couldn’t get close enough, needy little thing, and Y/N was fully enjoying being clung to. Physical touch always made the high even better, but that’s just her opinion. Or maybe it was physical touch was better when high? She didn’t know. Her brain didn’t want to analyze that right this second.

“Did you sleep last night? Tired?” Her voice was soft as she didn’t want to disturb the vibe, twirling a curl around her fingertips.

“No.” He shook his head, seeming like he was trying to get into her skin. “Jus’ want to get close to you. You’re warm and you smell fuckin’ incredible.” His voice was a little bit more hoarse, but that was to be expected. “You’re my favorite person... To smoke with.” He added on to the thought hurriedly but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. Fingers trailed down her spine, making her shudder a little.

“Hm, is that because I let you eat my pussy?” She smirked, feeling him pull his head form her neck with a glare. Sex with him was fantastic. Maybe it was because they were usually blazed when they did it and they both felt the sensitivity that went with it along with a more intense orgasm. He was the only one who could match her drive when she was like this, so he’d easily become a favorite person of her. Though she had a feeling that he’d do it just as well without the smoking bit, that would be something to unpack at a later date.

“Hey… don’t make me sound like a lecher.” He pouted, sending her heart to beat a bit harder. One thing she’d give the man was that he was adorable. “Not the only reason. I love doin’ that but… you have the best snacks n’you let me talk about anything. Your cunt is just a bonus… though I really do love it.” Harry wasn’t usually super shy, but sometimes he got a bit bashful when it came to Y/N. There was a slight hesitation as he let their noses brush, ghosting his lips over hers. “Can I?”

“So sweet for asking.” Y/N cooed, smiling n at his request. He wanted to kiss her. She could taste how bad he wanted it when the high had hit him, but now he wasn’t able to hold back much. “Go ahead, pretty boy. Since you seem to like it so much.”

Harry was a little messy with it, smearing their lips together and grazing his teeth over her bottom lip. There wasn’t much to hide his desperation as he adjusted himself on top of her, pulling one of her legs to wrap around his hip. “I do.” He breathed before licking into her mouth. Her lips were so sweet and soft, tasting like the cola she’d drank and mint chapstick. His favorite thing. Pulling apart with a soft clicking sound, he let out a groan as he looked down at her. Her bun was all messed up with some flyaways, lips wet and eyes hazy. His favorite sight. Seeing he undone when usually she was so put together, knowing he’d been the one to get to see her like this… it did things to his “I really fucking do.”

Y/N whimpered as he devoured her. His tongue hot in her mouth and his hand gripping her thigh to keep her close, she couldn’t help but grow hot when she felt him against her. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last, but it still surprised her every time. How had she ever fit that inside of her? Tightening her legs around his hips, she heard the hitch in his breathing before he pulled away from her lips to groan. It gave her a chance to pull her shirt off her body, exposing her tits to him.

Harry nearly whimpered at the sight of them, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips before making his way down. “Fuck, the things you do t’me.” He whispered, moving closer to her breasts. “Can I kiss on them a bit, pretty? It’ll feel good.” He pleaded, sighing against the skin as she nodded at the request.

Sponging kisses all over the swells, he gently rocked his hips into hers to relieve a bit of the ache. His cock was thick and throbbing, desperate for some relief. The hear of her cunt could he felt through her panties, making Harry thank whatever higher power that she’d chosen the big shirt no pants combination today. “Gorgeous. You’re so pretty, all over.” He praised, puckering his lips over a nipple for a kiss. She shivered under him, her grip in his hair getting fuller as he brought it into his mouth.

Y/N sighed in pleasure as his hot mouth suckled on her. She’d loved when he did this last time, licking over her tits while he was inside of her. He was still clothed this time but somehow that was just as hot to her. Panties were ruined regardless, but she arched her back slightly as he took more of her breast into his mouth and rolled his tongue around the nipple. “Oh, shit.” The girl whimpered, rocking her hips in return. The stimulation made her head cloudy, or maybe it was the blunt, but she didn’t really care. It all felt so fucking good, it didn’t matter. “Harry… you’re so nice t’me.” She sighed, watching him pull off with a soft ‘pop’.

“I know, sweetheart. It’s what you deserve, yeah? So nice to me too…” he sighed into her chest, placing wet kisses to the skin that glistened in the light, leaving cool spots once he left. “Let me come over and smoke, let me eat your snacks, kiss your pretty mouth… let me taste you, sometimes let me feel that perfect little pussy wrapped around me… have t’be nice to my girl.”

She didn’t have a chance to answer before he repeated the process with her other nipple, making her pant. The grinding was getting harder, her breathing matching it as he rubbed over her clit in the motions. Back and forth, sweet relief as she spread herself out further and clutched his head to her breast as he worshiped them. “Fuck me, keep going like that and M’gonna cum.” She warned him, though she had no real want of him stopping.

“So cum.” He mumbled into her skin. “Won’t be the last time you do it tonight.” And oh- oh. He sounded so self assured and cocky and it did something to her, a zap of electricity to her tummy as she moaned into the air, clinging to him.

His back was firm under her hands, not stopping herself from sliding them unde this tee shirt. His skin was burning under her palms as she dragged her nails lightly down his shoulder blades. “Harder.” He instructed, rutting into her with more force. “Scratch me. S’okay.” He couldn’t help connecting their mouths again, fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh as it clung to him.

She did as asked, surprising her when he let out a deeper groan than she’d heard before. His hips quickened, sure his gray sweats were ruined but uncaring about anything else. “Gonna make me cum in my joggers.” He panted against her lips, unable to keep himself from touching her. His mouth was a magnet to her body, his cock throbbing and balls feeling exceptionally full as he dry fucked her.

“Mm… here.” She momentarily reached between them and tugged them down far enough that he was out of them. “Cum on my panties.” Her voice rang into his ears. “Already ruined them. Can’t you feel how wet you made me?” And fuck, could he.

Without the sweats in the way he could feel her soaked through panties wetting his prick, the heat of her through the barely there fabric making him insane. Though the real thing that got him was her request. “You really want that?” He questioned, buttoning their lips together for a moment because he simply couldn’t help it. “You want t’be sticky with my load all over your panties and your skin? I’ve got so much for you…” he wasn’t joking either. It had been a bit since they’d hung out and his hand didn’t do him as much justice as she could. His dick desperately missed her.

“You know I don’t mind a mess, Harry.” She purred, moving a hand to wrap around his throat. “And you’ll be a good boy and lick it off my skin, won’t you? Then you’ll lick my pretty pussy until you’re ready to fuck me. Because you’re always such a good boy for me…”

Oh, fuck. Harry whimpered at the feeling of her hand around his throat, the drop of his guilty pleasure nickname, immediately feeling the shift. He was determined to please her before, but this tone of voice and her slight overtaking made him a bit pathetic. “Yes- yeah, M’gonna do it.” He promised, adjusting them slightly so he tip could brush right over her clit. “Anything you want. Want t’make you feel so good. M’good for you.” He nodded, messily kissing her again as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.

Y/N hummed in pleasure as he got them to the right position. His hard cock rutting against her like the fabric wasn’t even there, thick and hot. She loved feeling him, knowing she’d done that to him. Her stomach tightened as she felt the perfect thrust from him, gasping into his mouth. “Oh- yes, like that. Keep it light that, baby.” She pleaded, mouth falling open as he repeated it. “Mhm… there. Gonna cum.” She had been worked up for a little bit now but feeling his need to please her helped her get there.

“Please, please do it. Want you to cum, want you to feel so good… you’re so perfect, please cum for me. Give it to me, fuckin’ goddess….” He spoke to her like he needed her orgasm to breathe. Whimpery and needy and unlike how he usually sounded, but with his perfect angle and the friction against her clit combined with that, she was pushed over the edge.

“Yes- yes, fuck me.” Head falling further back into the cushions, she dug her nails into his back with one hand while the other tightened on his throat. Sparks igniting her nerves and her legs held on to him like a lifeline as she came. Harry never knew a prettier sight in his life than how she looked when he made her orgasm.

“Give me it too, H. Make me a sticky mess so you can clean me.” She gasped out. “You’ve been so good, I know you can give me what I want. Please?” Her voice shook slightly. “Give me what I want.” Giving just the slightest bit more pressure to the fingers on the sides of his throat, she knew exactly how much to press to make him lightheaded. Choking was a weakness of his, something that made him cum embarrassingly fast a lot of the time, but this time he was grateful as he let out a sob. His prick was slick with her and aching to release but he tried to hold back for her sake. With the mix of the high being at its height, the sensitivity overwhelming him and how she knew exactly how to touch him- The moment she called him a good boy and gave him the head rush he needed, he was a fucking goner.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, M’gonna cum-“ he babbled her name as he found his release. Jerking against her, hot ribbons of the pearly cum shot against the covered cunt and over her tummy. His balls pulsed as he unloaded on her, smearing it over himself and her as his hips sloppily worked him through the orgasm. Face slack in rapture, he let out a hoarse groan as the last of it spilled from his tip, hips jerking a few times before he felt her hand fall and his mouth descended on hers again.

“You’re gonna be the end of me, hm?” He slurred, biting her lip with a hum before he lowered his body onto hers. His prick was sensitive but he made no move to pull back, pecking her over and over again as she caressed his cheek with her choking hand. Y/N was by far the best at it regardless, intuition leading her to know exactly what he liked. “Feel like m’fucking floating. Dunno if it’s the high or your cunt.” He snickered, feeling her return the laugh.

“Probably a mix of both.” She smiled, giving him a few kisses of her own. “But we’ve got plenty to keep it going for a while. Are you up for it, pretty boy?” The girl had no plans but to be blazed and fucked for the rest of the night, and she hoped he was on the same page.

“M’up for anything, you fuckin’ goddess.” He mumbled as he sat up on his knees to look at the mess they’d made. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, her cunt and little thatch of hair visible through the now transparent fabric and splattered with cum on the ruined panties and her tummy. It made his mouth water just looking at it. “Jesus… look at this.” He mumbled, spreading her further open with his hand. “Seems like I’ve got a lot of work to do, don’t I?”

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