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#it's like being really used to closing a REALLY heavy car door
sergle · 1 year
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actually, the difference in shell and membrane thickness in duck eggs is really funny to me, because it has caused me to absolutely Obliterate regular chicken eggs in the past
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shaguro · 6 months
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⤿ synposis: you can't ever leave the house without giving toji a kiss good-bye.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: fluff fluff fluff. (toji x fem!reader, established relationship, pet names used ( girl, baby, doll) toji's just in love idk. i wrote the majority of this at like 1 am nd barely proofread!!) wc ⇀ around 0.7k!
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"girl", toji drawls, cerulean orbs trained on your figure by the front door. he’s manspread on your living room sofa, sitcom on the tv screen long forgotten as he turns his body around, all his attention on you and only you. “aren’t you forgettin’ somethin’?”
“hmm? what are you talking about, baby?” you keep your head low while you fumble with your stilettos, a hand on the wall for balance as you finally slip it onto your stocking-clad foot, the last step before you head out for your shift, the sun just peeking over the horizon.
of course, you know exactly what toji’s talking about. it doesn’t matter where you’re going or whether you’ll be back in ten minutes or a few hours, whether he’s in deep sleep or in the middle of an intense workout session — toji expects a kiss good-bye before you leave the apartment you share. he’s real strict about it too, he doesn’t accept any excuses, no if’s, an’s or buts.
does knowing all this stop you from testing the dark-haired man? absolutely not.
“i packed my work-bag last night and i have the car keys right here, looks like i’ve got-“
“now you know that’s not what i’m talkin’ about,” toji deadpans, completely unamused. barely keeping up the act, you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling. “don’t play dumb with me, baby.”
you do just that — tilt your head all cute and innocent as you furrow your brows, crossing your arms against your blouse. “i’m being serious though! i dont know what you’re talking about, i swear.”
“girl, please.” toji scoffs, scarred lip almost turned in a scowl. he’s always so sassy when you start to annoy him. “ya really stress me out, y’know that?” in a quick motion, he stands up, stretching out his long arms before he turns to face you. “you don’t know, huh? c’mere and let me remind you, then.”
toji’s tilts his head down. with low eyes and a coy smirk on his handsome face, he beckons you close with a single finger.
you can’t hide your smile now, it spreads ear to ear as you bounce over to him, the click clacking of your heels resounding on the hardwood floor until you reach the plush carpet where toji stood. he wastes no time, cupping his hands on the globes of your ass and tugs your body flush against his. toji’s so warm — he’s shirtless and all his sculpted muscles are on display, flexing when your cold hands glide across his pecs to snake around his neck.
toji leans down and his plump pink lips meet your glossed ones, the strawberry-flavored gloss sat sweet on his tastebuds but he prefers your taste instead, sliding his tongue through your slightly-parted lips with hopes to satisfy his glutinous craving and he’s not disappointed when your tongues mingle. “mm.” never tired of that saccharine taste, toji grunts into your mouth, taking his time kissing you — oddly soft and gentle.
toji pulls away and your lips part, only separated by a string of sticky saliva before he goes back in, giving you one, two, three quick pecks before he’s had his fill.
soft pants fill the air as toji holds you close, foreheads touching. “that jog your memory?”
toji rolls his eyes when you hum happy ‘mmhm!’ in response, hands rubbing on his broad shoulders, your fingertips ghosting the sharp line of his jaw. “you’re a pain in my ass…” he huffs, and you burst into a fit of giggles at his annoyed expression, unable to contain it anymore. it’s just so adorable — an infectious melody that toji prays he’ll continue to hear, for many years to come.
“lucky y’er so fuckin’ pretty . . next time i won’t go so easy on ya.” as if to seal the promise, he lands a heavy smack! on your ass. “toji!” you squeal out, the force of it propels you forward, temple thumping on his toned chest.
it was his turn to chuckle now, soothing the blow with a gentle rub of his palm prior to kissing the crown of your head. “now that i got my kisses . . s’time for you to head out, doll. don’t wanna be late again, hm?”
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i'm finally back after disappearing for like a thousand years yayyy (don't beat me up yall pls)
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st4rbwrry · 2 months
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𝒲𝐻𝒴 𝒟𝒪𝒩’𝒯 𝒴𝒪𝒰 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸 𝑀𝐸?
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ꔫ eren fails to realize you’re in love with him and has a hard time committing. until he doesn’t have a choice but to face his fears.
꒰ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 ꒱ ꔫ . . .14.4k. fem reader, lowercase intended, best friends to enemies to lovers + locked in a closet, angst, lots of kissing omgie, lotss of fingering, kreamer!, conflicted feelings, oral [ f + m ], praiseeee, spanking to a t, onyankopon cameo + small fight, toxicity, multiple orgasms, rennie gets jealous, miscommunication + arguments, car sex, use of the 'n' word, small daddy kink usage, self pleasure, biting kink, eren's kinda mean, dom / sub dynamic from both, college au, both are needy, relationship establishment, pet name usage [ baby, mamas ] , minors aren't welcomed! reblogs + comments are appreciated! <3
ꔫ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . got my heart broke so cheers to this one!
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pretty boys with eyes like his never made you want to vomit. you adored every aspect of him, always something nice to look at. it's such a shame men who look like him, ungodly creatures, had the worst fucking personalities. or so make horrible decisions in life. fumble good women. why ruin your aura? standing mere centimeters away from him to protect it currently. though you feared he'd already tainted a portion of it. collateral damage was done. he ruins the psyche of your brain when it comes to men, or being in a relationship period. you don't want to be heartless. that lover girl in you wanted to bloom like a daisy, spread her wings like an angel, and showcase herself proudly like a peacock with the one person she's loved since she was a preteen. instead, you're dealt with being mean, standing your ground, and pretending he didn't have a lock on your heart beating with need. so, yes, looking at his face, the boy you were so dangerously in love with, made you want to vomit. 
him, stubborn as usual, stood broodingly in the corner of the closet with his strong arms folded over his chest adorned in a black crewneck tee, stainless steel chain around his neck as you study the adam's apple in his throat shift at the same time he swallows in the awkward silence. solid black jeans clad to his muscular thighs, heavy leather boots covering his feet. his scent is so masculine it fills the small space; moroccan mint with woody cedar musk. that heavenly umber hair of his long in his face, growing inch by inch as the months fly by, close to grazing his shoulders. 
you cannot believe your friends barricaded the door just so the two of you could talk out your 'issues'. which, in your view, only means an apology from eren for what he did. the night had gone fine. you, eren, and a couple of your friends all going out to catch a drift meet-up. connie had gotten his taxes back and blew it all on installing skull rims and wrapping his scion frs a pearl lavender. being there mostly to cheer him on as he showed off his precious baby. afterward, grabbing ramen from a spot in chinatown. everyone decided to kick it at your house since you had a spacious living room and all the games.
since you and eren haven't spoken in two months, you kept it cordial. well, that's a lie. briefly spoken. the interactions between you two are nothing short of hi's and hello's. ' how've you been? fine, you? yeah, i'm cool. oh, you got a new tattoo? yeah, the other day. that's nice. hey, congrats on the new home. thanks.' quite frankly, your friends have gotten sick of it. it was ruining the vibe of the group by the two of you being so distant. surrounded by each other in your dimly lit living room, high ceilings, and abstract art while soft rnb played soundly in the background. eren sunk comfortably into your velvet emerald green sofa alongside connie, ymir, and armin. sitting opposite of you while you rested on your loveseat with a glass of sangria in your hand. swirling it while smiling and laughing at any question picked from the stack of cards from a game titled 'we're not really strangers.'
you hated the internal connection you and eren held. no matter what was going on, listening to each of your friends spew nonsense and hysterical laughter, you couldn't keep your eyes off one another. you'd glance, admire his features while deep in thought about all the good things, then the bad. and when he'd catch you, more like feel your burning glare, you'd immediately revert your attention to something else. vice versa. both of you were saying a lot without saying anything. 
"꒰♡꒱, it's your turn!" the sound of your name being called kicks you out of your conscience, blinking to clear your view when you realize you'd lost it glaring into your wine glass. you clear your throat, your right leg that's thrown over your left jumping up and down. 
"oh, sorry!" you smile faintly, straightening your posture to lean forward and snatch one of the red cards from the deck. 
"you're getting tired, aren't you? you're always the first one to fall asleep," ymir pressed, chewing on her newly popped in gum as she manspreads, long arms sprawled behind connie and armin onto the headrest.
“it’s just the wine getting to me,” you suck your teeth, your statement being true. the alcohol in your system making you feel more things than one. flipping the card, you read what it says. 
"what are you attracted to that you know isn't good for you?" the inhale and exhale you create as you stare blankly at the card in your hand makes it all too known of the answer you wanted to say, but won't. unexpectedly, your sight scrolls to him, and it makes goosebumps arise on your skin from the look he doesn't give you.
“you're right, i am tired. think i’m going to head to bed.”
the crew watches as you remove the kuromi throw blanket off your lap and take a stand, eren’s eyes strong on your figure as you down the rest of your wine. ymir’s eyes shift between you and him, the urge to say something stronger than ever. though, connie beats her to it. 
“nah, sit back down. we need to talk.” 
you glare at him, eren doing the same, and everyone’s silent. connie leans forward, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to rub frustratingly at his temple. “let’s be adults and just address the elephant in the room.” 
“what are you talking about?” 
“you know exactly what i’m talking about. this silent, petty feud between you two has been going on for damn near two months and i'm sick of it.” 
“agreed,” armin nods, pushing his blonde hair away from his face, clenching his jaw in the process. “we’re too fucking grown for childish behavior. the two of you need to talk and situate your issues privately.” 
“they’re right. it’s fucking up the vibe of the group,” ymir pitches in. 
deep down, you hate to say they were right. but you still felt like you had nothing to say to him, let alone nothing to apologize for. if anything he owed you one. and you’ll stand on that because he’s fucking immature. 
“i pray y'all aren’t thinking i’m the reason for this. if we don’t remember, i’m not the person who fucked on another girl around the same time he supposedly wanted to date me.” 
that’s when eren picks his head up, throwing silent daggers your way. you’re trying to make him out to be a villain when that wasn't the case. “we had already established that we were just friends. i don’t know why you still have this insight that i, what . . cheated on you or sum?” 
the blood in your veins began to boil, scoffing angrily and prodding your inner check with the point of your tongue. “right, because i’m that delusional.” 
“stop,” connie squeezes his eyes shut, getting fed up even further. “this bickering shit is the definition of childish. please just go talk, i’m getting a migraine.” 
“as long as he’s willing to be honest, sure. but if he’s just going to waste my time, then i have nothing to say,” you shrug, uncaring.  
“in some way you still want him around, because if that wasn’t the case, he wouldn’t be here,” ymir counters, not fond of your sudden attitude. 
“i can speak for myself,” eren interrupts, tired of being the pass around subject. “i don’t have a problem talking. . . if she’s not g’na punch me.” 
“nigg—” 
“alright!” armin raises to his feet, tall body towering yours before he’s lifting you off your feet and tossing you over his shoulder quicker than everyone could blink. a gasp falls from you, wriggling your feet as you yell at him to put you down, groaning like a child. 
armin finds the nearest closet and sets you down in it, giving a look not to try it. it’s rare to see armin irritated, so he must’ve really been fed up when you see his eyes go dead as he glares at you while raising his palm telling you to stop. you pout, crossing your arms and huffing as you take a seat on a pile of shoe boxes. turning his head, he sees eren sighing and standing to his feet before willingly entering the closet. 
armin steps out, giving a fatherly obedient look between the two of you before closing the door. “be nice. handle your shit. we’re going to grab food.” 
“food?” you gasp. “wha—i want some!” 
“greedy,” eren remarks under his breath. you shoot him a deadly glare. 
“fuck you say?” 
“i’m not arguing with you over food.”
“wait, are we really getting food?” ymir whispers to connie who confusingly raises his hands. 
“no, we’re going to sit here until they figure their shit out,” armin whispers back, taking long strides back towards the couch where he plops down and sinks into. stuffing his hands into his gray hoodie pockets after lowering the hood over his head, closing his eyes. 
“they’re gonna fuck, watch,” ymir chuckles, getting up to search your pantry for more liquor, maybe even digging in your fridge for food, now that they mentioned it. “y'all want pasta?” 
“what kind?” connie looks up over his phone. 
“mhm,” ymir continues to scout, grimacing at your close to empty fridge. “she only has ingredients for pesto pasta. healthy bitch.” 
“pass,” connie and armin reject simultaneously.
“more for me!” 
now here the two of you stood, in utter silence. you’re avoiding his sharp gaze as much as you can, twiddling anxiously with your fingers. this is the last situation you want to be in right now. the warmth in your cheeks when you catch him staring is the bitch of all trades. that love you held deeply in your chest for years magnetically pulling you to submission. to care. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing loudly in your ears. taking a deep breath, you try to calm yourself down. this was important. the two of you needed to get past this if there’s going to be any change to your relationship. this had to be fixed. 
“it seems like you want me to start,” reeling you in, his heavy feet hit the ground the closer he gets to you, nearly standing over you in all of his handsome glory. the air shifts and it feels hotter. you can practically hear the swallow in your throat. why did he feel the need to be so close? who knows. maybe it’s some sort of intimidation tactic. “where should i start?” 
“hm, i’d say — apologize for being misleading,” your response is nothing but blunt, your emotions getting the best of your original intent. 
eren’s mouth goes agape, chuckling with genuine confusion, brows furrowed in concern. “again, how was i misleading? we've never been anything but friends. i never led you on or made you feel like there was something more between us."
“eren, you literally told me that you wanted to try something new and be apart of me on a deeper level than you were. this was after we had sex, twice need i remind you. then, i find you fucking another girl the day you initiated us to hang out. then you had the nerve to argue with me, and call me fucking crazy.” 
“i didn’t call you crazy. i said you needed to go home and sleep off whatever shit you were on that night because you cussed that girl out and almost beat her face in for what? we are not together, ꒰♡꒱.” 
“i know that,” the muscles in your jaw spasm from the pressure you put into gritting your teeth. the pain of his denial cutting deep. “you say it as if it’d be such a nuisance. that ‘you’re my best friend’ shit went out the window years ago, and you and me both know it. it’s not my fault you have a hard time with commitment.” 
“i don’t have a hard time with commitment,” he scoffs, patience fraying. “i told you that i care for you, and you mean a lot to me. that i have love for you, not that i was in love with you. i value our friendship above anything.” 
the more he speaks, the more you come to the realization that this is becoming a waste of time, as you expected. there’s a burn in your throat that’s coaxing the tears to well in your eyes. you’re not going to cry, he doesn’t deserve to see you that way. and it felt pathetic to even do so. he’s throwing the truth directly in your face, but somehow . . you find it hard to believe him. there’s just that small hope that deep down inside he felt the same. 
“i don’t understand what you’re afraid of. are you not attracted to me? am i not enough for you? is there another girl on your mind?” and that’s when the desperation pours. that level of dissecting yourself to grasp the context of why he doesn’t want you. your leg bounces out of anxiety, scratching at your thigh with the point of your acrylic. trying your hardest to keep yourself from having a mental breakdown. 
eren’s eyes soften at your reaction, his mouth going dry at the clear effect this had on you. months, years worth of emotions built up for him. it makes a heavy pang in his heart, wondering how he could be so blind and stupid. his intentions were never meant to hurt you. 
“why would you think that?" eren asks, tilting his head slightly. "i never gave you any indication that you weren't good enough for me. why can’t i just not be ready?”
the words roll off his tongue easily, like they were rehearsed. “if you weren’t ready, eren, you could’ve just been upfront with me to avoid this shit from the jump. i would’ve went about my life if you laid it down on the table in bold fucking letters. but every time we were together, you made me feel like — we had a chance. the hugs, the kisses, the ‘i love you’s, the sex. you treated me like i was your girl. and i could say i’m running with the subject. but, i wouldn’t do that if i didn’t have something being fed to me. i’m not an idiot.” 
“i just —” he goes to knock his head back, blowing out a huff of air as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. “i don’t want to hurt you, ꒰♡꒱. i don’t know if i can be the person you need right now. i can’t give you what you want. it’s complicated, and it’s not fair to you. i like you, a lot. i can’t explain my exact feelings, but i’ve always been attracted to you. i thought once that maybe it could work out between us, but the more time goes on, the more i realize how fucked up i am. you deserve better. and it kills me to say even that.” 
this was triggering for some reason, feeling claustrophobic from the close proximity of his body between the small space of your closet. it’s all making you sick. you felt like you were going to have a panic attack if you stayed in here with him any longer. standing up, you brush past him to rush towards the door, twisting the knob frantically only to find it locked. fuck. groaning, you bang on the door, anticipated to kick it down if no one let you out in the next five seconds. 
“꒰♡꒱, stop and take a breath,” eren’s well aware of how you get when you’re stressed out, actions turning frantic as you rest your forehead against the cold door. “baby, look at me.” 
"oh, nah. we a little late for that,” you respond after you turn to face him, shaking your head. “see, you say shit like that because you know how i feel about you. you’re real good at manipulating me. real good. you make me feel like i'm drowning by the weight of my emotions. i hate this, hate this. you make me too vulnerable. and you call me baby? h-how else am i supposed to think?” 
“i’m sorry,” his hands go to grab your arms. your body stiffens under his touch, a shiver running down your spine at the contact. you can't help but notice the sincerity in his eyes, the conviction in his tone. part of you wants to believe him, to accept that this is truly all there ever was between you. but the other part, the part that's been carrying a torch for him for years, refuses to let go so easily.
“please believe me when i say that. i never, ever meant to hurt you. and i truly do apologize for not being honest from the beginning. and i will continue to apologize because i genuinely feel bad.” 
his voice is softer now, less defensive, more genuine. it's clear that despite his initial reluctance, he does cherish your friendship, and he values your presence in his life. but, you’re still conflicted. 
"i — i don't know, eren. i don’t think i can accept that,” you whisper, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. the weight of his rejection settles heavily in your chest, making it hard to breathe.
eren hesitates briefly before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. the warmth of his body seeps into yours, providing a comforting counterpoint to the cold reality of the current situation. it stuns you, your body slowly relaxing into his hold, letting the familiar comfort wash over you. he’s laying your head endearingly on his chest, brushing his hand along the back of your head. suddenly, eren slowly pulls from you, his intense stare into your eyes blurring your thoughts, glitching when he tucks a curl behind your ear before inching his face toward yours and shockingly kissing you.
your eyes widen in surprise as his lips press against yours, the suddenness of the gesture leaving you momentarily stunned. but as the sensation registers, your body responds instinctively, melting into the kiss. your hands come up to rest on his chest, fingers digging lightly into his shirt as you return the kiss with equal fervor. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. it's as if the last two months of hurt and confusion have never happened, and you're transported back to a time when the possibility of something more between you seemed within reach.
eren breaks the kiss abruptly, pulling back with a flush on his cheeks. you look at him, searching his eyes for any sign of discomfort or regret. but instead, you see something else entirely — desire, longing, and a hint of uncertainty. he swallows hard, opening his mouth to say something, but no words come out. instead, he closes his eyes tightly, shaking his head slightly. "fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t know why i did that,” he mutters, turning away from you.
the air grows even heavier, and you can’t help but to pull him back into your grasp, his heavy hands sitting on your hips he grips roughly to pull you closer. his mouth is back on yours within seconds, widening his jaw to deepen the kiss, your lips smacking and your back suddenly pressing against the wall. as the kiss intensifies, you moan softly, feeling a wave of heat wash over you. your hands slide from his face to his shoulders, holding him tightly. 
your hips grind against his, seeking friction, craving the closeness that only he can provide. every inch of your being screams for more, for a deeper connection, for a fulfillment that only he can offer. eren groans into your mouth, his own hands roaming over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a hunger that belies his previous reticence. he presses himself harder against you, his erection throbbing with need. his movements become more deliberate, more urgent, as if he's trying to bridge the gap between you two with every fiber of his being.
“your legs are shaking,” he whispers, now resting a hand on your inner thigh. 
you nod shyly, his big hand making you pulsate. you spread your legs wider. “touch me. please."
his tongue swirls around the side of your neck as his breath tickles your skin, making you shiver slightly as he continues the kisses down to your collarbone. then, his hand moves up your thigh more, now moving it’s way under your short black skirt to pull your thong to the side, eyes rolling back into your skull when his fingers make contact with your soaked clit. a simple touch from him easily arousing you. 
"talk to me. i need to hear your voice."
eren removes your shirt, needing so badly to feel your skin beneath his burning fingertips. whispering into your ear as he talks you through it, placing his fingers back onto your clit. “you're enjoying this, aren't you?" 
“you make me so wet,” you whimper, raising your right thigh to give him further access. 
“i bet i do,” your body prickles with fire the moment he takes your neck into his hold to choke you, his brows furrowed as the two of you listen to your sluice clit he rubs circles onto. licking his lips, he spreads your lips apart before sinking his fingers in knuckle deep, the illicit squelch making his dick shift. both of you make the same expression of pleasure, eren moaning from the strong grip your pussy has on his fingers, missing that. 
despite the overwhelming pleasure, you manage to stifle your cries, biting your lip to keep silent as eren’s fingers curl inside you, stroking that sweet spot that makes your vision blur and your legs tremble. he removes them momentarily, collecting your juices to rub your hardened clit again. you pull him in to moan into his neck, tugging onto his long hair, eren responding to your silent plea by plunging his long fingers into your dripping cunt.
“mmm, fuck,” your face curls up from the heat swimming in your lower tummy. feeling the way you moan into his neck sends shock waves through his body. the grasp on his hair only makes him apply more pressure to your spot, pushing you further and further.
“look at you taking that shit. you love my fingers?”
you nod drunkenly. "yea, love your fingers." 
"you love my fingers, baby?" he hums in your ear condescendingly. 
"i love them so much, baby," you whine, unable to control your breath. 
“fuck,” eren couldn’t take it anymore, crouching before you to hungrily latch his lips onto your clit. a high-pitched moan flows past your mouth unexpectedly, eren lifting your leg to set it on his shoulder, sucking you into his mouth, and swallowing every drip that leaks from you. 
“cover your mouth, pretty. you sound too good. ima bust.” eren’s mouth never leaves your pussy as he speaks, his words muffled by your wetness. 
each thrust of his fingers sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, while his tongue works on your clit, coaxing moans and whimpers from your lips. eren’s mouth works tirelessly on your pussy, his tongue lapping rapidly over your clit while his fingers pump in and out of your dripping hole. he alternates between long, slow strokes and quick, frantic thrusts, determined to wring every last moan from your lips. his free hand grabs your ass, squeezing the plump flesh as he pulls you even closer, ensuring that not an inch of your body is left untouched by his desire.
your back arches off the wall as the first shockwave of your climax rip through you, your thighs quivering and your pussy spasming around eren’s fingers. he doesn't let up, continuing to lick and suckle your clit through the aftershocks, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. as the sensations begin to subside only a little, you slump against the wall, panting heavily. eren reluctantly pulls away, his lips glistening with your juices. he looks up at you with a smirk, his own arousal still evident. 
"fuck, you real sweet," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust, standing back on his feet while keeping his fingers inside of you. craving more. "you're making this really difficult for me, ꒰♡꒱.” his breath grows sharper. "you're so loud when you moan for me. tryna make everybody hear you?" 
"your voice," you hiccup weakly, speaking the thought aloud, loving how he talks to you. 
"you like my voice?" he hums, planting a sloppy, haste kiss amongst your pouty lips you’d bitten red. he raises his brow, repeating himself since you’re so fucked out. “you like my voice, right?" 
"yes, daddy," you scream out. 
"daddy? that's new," the grin is all too evident. you're too deep in your pleasure to acknowledge the embarrassment. nodding along. not seeming to care that you're barely conscious. 
"erennn! m'gonna cum!" you warn, gripping onto his shifting wrist, arching your chest into his. 
“gimme that shit then, baby. cum on my fingers like you always do. so goddamn needy.” 
uncaring of the people outside of the closet, you whine his name loudly, gyrating your hips into his palm your pussy gushed on. as you struggle to maintain control, your orgasm builds rapidly, coiling tight in your belly before bursting forth in a torrent of ecstasy. gushing on his fingers. eren's eyes go wide, slapping his big hand over your mouth to somewhat muffle your sounds.  
"shhh, fuck mamas," he stares at you with desire, keeping his fingers moving. "pussy drippin’ all on me." 
you stare at him blissfully, that pretty little head of yours thinking of nothing but how good he just made you feel. how hard he made you cum. even with just his fingers, it felt like nothing you've felt before. dazed, and unable to speak, you reach to unravel the belt on his hips connected to his heaving stomach. you've got him so fucking horny he's not sure if he can stop you right now. no longer giving a fuck who hears. that's their problem. it’s their fault anyways. 
"i want it," you give him widened eyes, noticing he left his head for a moment. 
"i can't stop once i start, m'telling you that right now,” his breath hitches, following your guide of undoing his jeans. 
"i. want. it," you repeat slowly, making it clear. 
“mm, that was sexy,” he grins, pecking your lips once more. you giggle when he lifts you up, turning and pulling one of your jackets off a hanger to lay down so you won’t hurt your back, the gesture making you smile stupidly. 
"this closet is too fuckin' small, my back hurts," eren complains. 
his jeans are clad to his waist, small beauty marks littered around his stomach up to his chest area. v-line sharp and abdomen toned with fairly tanned skin. he exudes masculinity. his pubic hairs are dark, trimmed as usual, and his dick sits heavy on your mound, a pearl of precum forming at the tip just daring to be licked up. your mouth watered every time you observed him. his attractiveness something you’ll never forget. you gasped when he taps your clit with his dick, hearing the two of you connect makes the big man above you groan desperately. 
"put it in you," he spanks your inner thigh, holding them up and open for you, his entire body arched dominantly over your small frame. “don't hurt yourself." 
“ ‘kay,” you nod shyly, wrapping your palm around his dick, the skin hot and rushing with blood, sucking your pudgy stomach in and lifting your head up some more to see at a better angle. relaxing your hips, you breathe slowly, rubbing his tip up and down your entrance before carefully pulling him into yourself. 
“nng,” you whimper, face scrunched up from the pain of the stretch. he’s aware by now of how much time you need to take him fully considering his size. 
“breathe, babe. you think too much, that’s why it hurts,” he whispered, kissing your forehead to keep his composure. he’s only halfway in and he feels like he’s close to nutting. “let go, lemme work it in.” 
you listen, laying back down fully while eren takes the lead. he’s gently swaying his hips to maneuver his way in, both of you watching it go in and out with fascination. his dick is thick, and it feels like he’s splitting you open every single time. but once he’s inside, you love that feeling of being stuffed, being completely apart of him. his body is now in full contact with your legs, eren hissing, a rumble in his throat borderline feral as he fucks you hard once he’s sure you’re okay.  
because you’ve came twice, you already felt sensitive and easy to another orgasm. it didn’t mean to happen so fast, but the moment his pace picks up, his thighs clash heavily against your own as he pressed your tummy down and fucked you deep, and you cum again. squeaking and trembling beneath him, the wet patpat of his dick pounding into you making you both dizzy. eren spews expletives in repetitions silently, watching your eyes go white, pretty individuals wispy on your lash line. 
he sees how much effort you're putting in to keep your noises in. “fuck them, lemme hear you.”
now his face is in yours, his moans burning your stomach even worse. it feels like a sickness how much you get off from hearing him, or any sound of weakness he makes. 
"god . . eren!" you hiss in pleasure. 
the heat was overbearing. the small proximity of the closet mixed with your skin connecting salaciously made you equally sweaty. beads of it sticking to eren's forehead, dampening his brown hair, turning them into curly ringlets. in no time, eren pulls himself out to fist his dick, twisting his wrist as he tugs his orgasm out of himself, cumming on your warm stomach. 
“shit, baby. you feel good every fuckin’ time,” he’s leaning in to give you another kiss. he sits up on his knees, dragging your thong completely off to wipe up his mess. “i can give you better. i wasn't done." 
you laugh and place your hand on his face, pushing it away with laughter. "move, boy. i need to get out of this damn closet.” 
"fine," he rolls his eyes playfully, fixing his pants and standing to his feet. "ima head to the bathroom.”
"hey," you protest with a pout. "come get me, i'm sore. you fucked me into the floor.” 
“i put the jacket down,” eren goes to grab for your hand and you make a disgruntled cry. 
“pick me up, dummy." 
to your luck the door ends up being unlocked now, and that gives you a clear explanation that they were in fact ear hustling. when eren opens the door and you’re huddled behind him shyly, the only person asleep was armin. connie ended up powering on your playstation to play the last of us two while ymir watched in agony over the storyline. the game gets immediately paused when the two of you show your faces. eren’s is stoic as usual, while yours is filled with embarrassment as you hide behind his tall figure. 
“i knew y’all were fucking listening, perverts,” eren calls them out, a cocky smirk displayed on his features. 
“got a little loud so we needed a distraction,” ymir replied, laughing as she stared at you. “i see you had a good time.” 
“not too much,” you warn, rolling your eyes playfully. 
“we talked just like y’all wanted. so, thanks for that.” 
you pout. “aren't you glad we made up?" 
"oh, definitely, for sure," arrogance is laced in his voice, turning back to them. "y’all got to hear us become really good friends, huh?" 
there’s that word again. friends. it bothered you again. that uncomfortable feeling in your tummy daring to ruin your mood. so, you brush it off. 
"y'all not g’na fight no more? cause i'm sick of it.” 
"we found a new way to fight," you break in a joke. 
"so remember that shower we need to take?" eren reminds you. 
"shower?! aw hell, they locked in." 
"bring your ass," eren swats your behind, possessively placing his hand on your hips to tug you along. you stumble next to him with a giggle, tripping over your feet up the stairs as he laughs at you, the two of you rushing towards the bathroom. 
this is the first time the two of you ever shared a shower together, talking as normal as you watch each other bathe. eren admires your beauty, having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. a few moments of you swatting them away happening. you knew it was your house, so you could do whatever you wanted. but already having sex with him knowing your friends were mere inches away felt improper. as you lathered your body in soap, he traces your skin tenderly. you look up at him with starry eyes, emotions coming to full conclusion. you might actually love this man. he feels that spark, studying your face like a lovesick boy. 
"what?" you ask cluelessly. 
"nothing," he swallows, internally punching himself in the face. he's holding back again. unable to understand why. what's he protecting exactly? himself or you? he's unsure. 
eren slips his same attire back on while you toss on an oversized nightmare on elm street t-shirt after lathering your body in baby oil. you mentioned to eren that you were hungry, and he offered to drive you anywhere you wanted to feed you. rushing down the steps in a pair, you catch only connie up this time, ymir passed out sleep on your rug flat on her back. 
"finished showering?" connie asks, being slick as usual. 
"it was sooo fun," you exaggerate, raising your middle finger. "we're getting food. bye!" 
"bye!" eren copies with a chirp, mocking your excited wave. 
since your apartment resides near the campus, the area you lived had plenty of food joints, some that would stay open later than usual. you decided on denny’s since it was seven in the morning by this point and you didn’t want to eat too heavy knowing you were going straight to sleep once you get back. the line is long and the two of you stand fairly close together. you cling to his side, making the initiative to hold his hand. eren's unsure, again, why he's withholding how he wants to feel. he drops your hand, leaving you to feel awkward and out of place almost. you felt a pang in your chest from the action, taking a deep breath, ignoring it, and waiting to be seated. 
the service was pretty quick, ordering what you both wanted which was a stack of pancakes with bacon and home fries and receiving it within ten minutes. he does his best to try and enjoy his food, though his gaze keeps shifting over to you. your mood changed, he obviously noticed since you’ve barely spoken, hiding your face in your phone to avoid conversation. it's bothering him. he doesn't want to make a big deal out of this for the time being. so he decided to eat his food. 
"why'd you drop my hand like that?" 
he stops eating, looking at you as he sets his fork down. it takes a minute for him to figure out what you’re pressing about before he recalls. “sorry, i just didn't want people thinking the wrong thing." 
that takes you aback. what the fuck? “and what would be the wrong thing?" you raise your brow with irritation. 
"look, i just don't need people in my business." 
"why do you care what people think?" the anger is kicking in. maybe you were overreacting. granted, you two didn't establish your relationship fully. you also didn't think it was a big deal to hold his hand. it's like your confession earlier never happened. 
"i don't think it's a big deal. i would rather not have to deal with people asking uncomfortable questions. it'll lead to a lot of unnecessary drama." 
"you mean with them bitches you fucked," you retaliate. "because god forbid you have a girlfriend, right?" 
"who said you were my girlfriend?" eren asks rather coldly. and that makes you silent. he realizes then how rude that came out. that's not what he meant. "wait, i'm . .” 
"basically, to conclude, you don't want to date me. noted." 
"i never said that . . .” 
"so, what then, eren? am i not good enough for you to show off? you wanna keep me a secret? like some girl you just fuck, who, by the way, you admitted your feelings for. normal people date after shit like that gets said. i don't care what people think about me, that's your problem." 
“of course you don’t, there’s nothing to think about when you only spread your legs once a year. you aren’t fucking on people like i am,” he replies, a bit too quickly, a response that is barely thoroughly planned out. he tried to apologize, but the words ended up getting caught in his neck. “i —”
"end of conversation," you snarl. that was so low of him to say. 
“i just meant you don’t express yourself sexually like i do. not that it’s a problem, i just have a reputation. i told you i’m not in a place to be what you want right now.” 
"i’m doing my best not to punch you in your fuckin’ face right now, so i advise you to be careful what you say next. in fact, don’t say anything at all.” 
words aren’t spoken for the majority of your meal after that, unable to finish all of your food since all you wanted to do was go home and cry in your pillow. he keeps toying with your heart again and again. it’s wildly frustrating. he pays the tab and you’re on your way back home, the car ride is silent as well. before you go to exit, he stops you. 
"can i say one last thing before you leave?" 
you turn to him, dead silent. 
"i am sorry for everything i said. you're right, i shouldn't care so much about what other people think. i should've said that from the beginning, and i didn’t mean to call you out like that. that was disrespectful, i admit. i just want us to be like we used to be simply because i hate hurting you. you mean a lot to me. you’re my best friend.”
left stuck, you only say what he wants to hear. "i understand. i just need time to think." 
"i understand." he says back, shifting his eyes back towards the steering wheel. 
you don't seem as angry as before, mostly because you’ve mentally checked out, so he's not entirely sure what else to say. he just wanted to let you know he meant everything. but, it's far too late for that. he'd said enough a few moments ago. and it's exactly what you needed to hear to realize that he'd never be ready for you. he'd never be mature enough for a relationship. he'd never see you as his first choice. still keeping that childish mentality of fucking girls to get his nut and ruin their hearts. it's enough. 
eren goes inside to grab armin and ymir to take them back to the dorm since they drove here together. connie lets himself out, everyone says goodbye, and you close your door without giving eren so much as another look. 
𓇼 
three months fly by and you two never contacted one another. eren noticed you avoid him on campus whenever you spot him. weeks of eyeing his phone for your text or call. he got the message clear, but it hurt his feelings, possibly on the same level he hurt yours. he stalked your account any chance he got, never missing a story. it was the only access to keeping a piece of you with him. that only lasted a month before you soft-blocked him. making your story unavailable to his eyesight but never having the balls to unfollow . . . just in case. having that small feel of hope that he'd come around and show you that he's everything you want in a man. albeit fairly likely.
all eren can do is go about his life and hope that you’d make the decision to keep him in yours. connie noticed how down eren was today, dragging him to come watch the homecoming football game. he’s dressed depressingly in black sweats with a dark green hoodie, resting his back against the bleachers with his eyes shut, trying to block out the exaggerated screams people made for the team. it’s a big game considering it’s the last before winter break, and it’s home based. eren peaked his eye open to watch connie chow down a hotdog, obnoxiously chewing and catching his irritated glare. 
“is it good?” eren bluntly acknowledges. 
connie raises his middle finger unspoken, ignoring his moody friend and focusing on the cheerleaders twisting and flipping. “oh, there’s ꒰♡꒱.” 
eren shoots up in a flash, the hood over his head hiding most of his gorgeous face. “where?” 
eren follows connie’s guide pointing in the direction you stand. and there you were, looking pretty as ever. he swore his heart skipped a beat. gorgeous face with a light beat of makeup, illuminating a soft, dollete glam with pink blush, brown lip liner, gloss, and heavy highlight on your nose and inner corner of your eyes that glowed under the beaming lights from the football field. your hair is straightened, styled in a half up half down with the bun spiked, enhancing your facial features. incredibly cut dark-washed denim shorts hugging your thighs while a baby pink oversized jersey covers your top halve. 
eren studies you like a lover does poetry, heart awestruck by your beauty, your aura radiating halfway across the field. god, he misses you so damn much. that daydream lala land in his head comes to an immediate halt when he spots a guy laughing in your face as the two of you bump noses in a disgustingly cute eskimo kiss. the muscles in eren’s jaw shifts, his eyes lowering and darkening as his posture changes. straightening his back and spreading his legs wide before he’s moving his neck and chest forward like a venomous snake, observing your interaction intently. 
it’s honestly scary how quickly his anger consumes him, his entire body going up in flames as he stares at the two of you like a giant crow hiding in the trees. his body is solid, barely even breathing as he finds torture in you pouring gatorade into this man’s mouth, his helmet in one hand while the other brushes your hair away from your face, bright white teeth shining as he smiles at you. you use a towel to dab off any excess sweat from his brown skin. then, eren realizes something. he knows this guy. 
onyankopon. a quarterback, a valedictorian in high school, and a student in his physics class. eren grows jealous. it was clear to him that you had a thing for him, eren trying to avoid showing any hints of jealousy so connie wouldn't bring it up even if deep down inside, he felt it. eren watches you giggle in onyankopon's face. he's way too close to you. it bothers him beyond comprehension. you and onyankopon have been messing around for the exact time you broke contact with eren. fucking around every now and thence, attending classes, and enjoying your life since it didn’t end when the man you were madly in love with rejected you. you were attracted to him for sure. he made you laugh, cooked for you, taught you how to ride his motorcycle. . a bunch of lovey shit you never felt before. but, your feelings for eren ruined any chance for you to be fully devoted.
it’s hard for eren to even sit through the remainder of this game, barely paying attention to the players and eyeing you almost the entire time. cheering, jumping up and down whenever onyankopon made a move let alone breathed. you’re like a goddamn fan girl. your friends seem to encourage you, purposely pushing you into him at times when he ran back over for your opinion. it’s like he finally exhales when the games over, connie knocking him from his trance of scrutiny. 
“yo, let’s go. we gotta party to get to.” 
the sigh is loud from eren, exasperated so. “who the fuck said i was up for a party? we have finals in two days. you dragged me from studying for this shitty ass game.” 
connie raises his hands in defense. “woah, fucker. you gotta stick up your ass, pull it out.” 
“i’m going home.” 
as eren begins to rise, connie refuses to move out of his path. “this is about ꒰♡꒱, isn’t it?” 
his shoulders raise defensively. “tread lightly, con.” 
“save me the bullshit, eren. for once just act like you give a fuck about the girl and go talk to her. this has been a repetition. how are you ever going to solve issues if you’re constantly running from them?” 
“she doesn’t want to speak to me. she made that extremely clear.” 
“did she say that, or did you just make her feel it?” 
eren didn’t have time for confrontation, stretching his leg over the bench to cross over him, walking away. “whatever, man. i’ll see you.” 
connie clenched his jaw, scoffing. “see, that’s your damn problem now! you can’t admit when you fuck up. that girl loves you to death and you keep playing in her fucking face! now you’re mad ‘cause you see her with somebody else. that’s bullshit and you know it.” 
eren stops in his tracks, and pulls the hood off his head before slowly turning back in his direction. “okay, maybe you’re right. i’m a fuck up. she already made up her mind by ignoring me for three months. i’m not forcing anything.”
“how do you know she’s not waiting for you to step up and finally do the chasing?” connie arches his brow. eren rolls his lips. “you had that girl hoping and waiting for you to finally reciprocate your feelings, and you lead her on back to back. she chased after you while you thought with your dick for other women. i’m sure she’ll be at the party. go find her and talk to her. and if she’s not fuckin’ with it, then you’ll know to really leave it alone. simple as that.” 
and that’s how eren ended up at the party. it was packed, obviously. they’d won the big game and chose this celebration as an excuse to get fucked up. connie smoked with eren for a bit before he disappeared to talk to some girl he’d been trying to date. eren's drinking heavy liquor, conversing somewhat with some people he knew to clear his head a little. there’s a few women who try to shoot their shot towards him, but he politely declines. the ‘my girl is here’ line seems to work. speaking of, he can't help but be distracted by you. seeing you dance with your friends, act a fool, and flirt with onyankopon whilst sitting on his lap. it enrages him in a way he can't explain. 
not to mention you're wearing his varsity jacket, snuggled into it. this is the last thing eren wanted to find. he wasn't planning on his blood boiling as he stood at the doorway, knocking back the remainder of his hennessy and approaching you the minute he watched onyankopon stick his tongue in your mouth, the two of you lost in each other as you kissed. he doesn’t comprehend his own body movements when he brushes through a sea of people to come your way. 
"what the fuck are you doing, ꒰♡꒱?" eren interrupts, glaring at you furiously. he had a right to be mad, right? weren't you the one who ignored him? blocked him? avoided him? 
you're stunned to see him, let alone hear what came out of his mouth. "excuse me?" you retort, shellshocked by his behavior.
"some nerve you have to act like i don't fuckin’ exist for three months, then i catch you sitting on somebody's lap like it's nothing," he's being outright rude and blunt, unsure if he's aware of it. could've been the alcohol, or what he's been feeling for months piling up into one bubble. and he finally let it burst.
onyankopon grows irritated by this. not only did he interrupt the two of you, but he was talking out his mouth crazy. "i know you ain't talking to her like that." 
"i don't remember stuttering. i'm looking dead at her, aren't i?" eren's stern with his remark.
his statement is senile, your head immediately pounding with a migraine from his stupid ass attack. that's when you get mad. "what? last time we spoke, you told me you didn't want to be with me and only saw me as someone you wanted to fuck on the low. so what the fuck makes you think it's okay to yell in my face about some shit you ended?!" 
"oh, he's lost his fuckin mind," onyankopon chuckles sinisterly, not even giving him a chance to reply. shaking his head in a 'this nigga got me fucked up' kinda way. your heart speeds up in panic as onyankopon's hands hold onto either side of your waist before he gently lifts you to stand along with you. "eren, right?" 
eren can feel his cheeks burn, the anger intensifying now that he's face to face with onyankopon. your heart is ready to drop out of your chest at the thought of them fighting right now. please, no. "i'm sure you knew that, don't ask stupid questions." 
anyone can see the heat building up in onyankopon's eyes, the people in the area whispering to one another while watching. your anxiety is skyrocketing. two big men fighting over you would be hot inside of a novel, yes. but you hated the idea of violence. especially from men. it triggered your flight mode and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a ball and cover your ears like a scared child. "guys, wait —"
"nah, baby. let him finish," his hand goes up insinuating a pause. "nigga got so much shit to say to you on some pussy shit. be a man and talk to me.”
before you get the chance to say anything, eren’s fist goes flying into onyankopon’s nose, his head aggressively knocking to the side, looking as if it spun off his neck for a moment. "how's that for some pussy shit?" 
gasps fill along the room, your hand going to your mouth as you watch onyankopon swing back, connecting his hit back. two of his teammates go to hold him back, knowing this isn’t some shit he needed to get into right now. you take the initiative to grab eren’s attention, knowing it’s dumb to jump between men in rage, but you felt like only you could stop him right now. his face is as red as a tomato, grabbing and tugging at his shirt with all of your strength he’s surprised you can even move him. almost stumbling over from your aggression. onyankopon’s friends drag him away from the situation before it got worse. in the process, he noticed you didn’t look his way not once, not even to check if he was alright. 
"eren, chill!" you finally snap. "let's go out back and talk. you're fucking embarrassing me." 
everyone watches as you drag him by his shirt like a bad ass child, shoving open the door that lead to the back area of the fraternity house, a few people there but you find a spot under a tree further down the hill. finally letting go, you take a few steps away from him, ready to blow from the anger streaming in your veins. thankfully, the smell from the lake and the wind blowing soothed you in some way. your arms are crossed over your chest, listening to the muffled noise of music booming inside the house and shutting your eyes. 
“eren, what are you doing here?” 
“connie dragged me here. believe me, i would’ve never come. especially after seeing you two boo’d up at the game. he your man now?” 
a sarcastic snort comes from you, twisting your body and looking his way. it’s been months since you’ve made contact with this man, and his aura still pulls you in. you truly despised it. “you need to apologize to him for starting an unnecessary fight. you don’t even know him to be acting like that.” 
adding salt to the already open wound, eren responds with a petty shrug and a scoff. “he had that shit coming.” 
“wow,” the smile lines around your mouth deepen and your lower lip pokes out as you frown, making an expression of disbelief. "you have a lot of nerve acting like you're my boyfriend when you settled for friendship only. do you not recall? or do i need to refresh your dry ass memory?” 
he's bitter about the situation still, that’s clear as day. he also assumed you were okay after the conversation you had in the car that night. but, he was wrong. he remains silent, fearing that his jumbled thoughts would fuck up what he really wanted to say. 
"if you couldn't see that i was hurt about what you told me that night, then you truly don't care. i kept my distance because you knew how i felt about you and you chose to be oblivious. i met ony and he made me forget about you. then you break back into my life whenever it's convenient for you. i'm not going to be available for you on your terms." 
"so you're using him to get over me?" 
"as i'm allowed to because you're not my man!" you narrow your brows. "aren’t you the same one that said i only spread my legs once a year? you’re mad ‘cause it’s not for you anymore, right?”
“you know i didn’t mean it like that.” 
“me and ony are just friends. whatever we got going on is none of your concern." 
"it's my concern if we gonna be together. therefore, he gotta go." 
"oh, now you wanna be with me," you scoff. "you're three months — no . . six months late. if you don't recall, you tried this shit before our friends forced us to make up. again, due to your ignorance of my emotions. i shouldn't have to wait for you to decide whether or not i'm worth being in your future. i am not a fantasy! i'm not here for you to fuck when you need to feel something! i deserve someone who's going to love me and give me the romance i crave! you don’t care enough about me no matter what you say.” 
tears are welling in your eyes now, and that breaks eren's heart beyond measure. "꒰♡꒱ . . ." 
"fuck, i didn't want you to see me cry," you sniffle, wiping your eyes aggressively. 
he let the alcohol completely steer him away from his initial goal, and that was to speak to you like connie had got on his ass about. not make you upset. he doesn’t understand why he keeps breaking his promise to stop hurting you. 
“i'm horrible when it comes to making any commitments. that, you were right about before,” he states, your eyes drawing back to his. "it wasn't fair of me to invalidate your feelings all those times. i knew you wanted to be with me, i just couldn't bring myself to be honest about what i wanted. more so, i didn't know what i wanted at the time. but being disconnected from you, my best friend . . it hurt my fucking soul."
the oversized varsity jacket clinging to your body brings you comfort, wrapping it tighter around yourself out of anxiousness. the scent of onyankopon’s cologne on the fabric brings you even more sadness. you feel bad for what happened, needing to find him to apologize when you get the chance. 
"i have so, so many regrets when it comes to you. so much time wasted, things that could've been avoided had i been mature and upfront. expecting you to be available to me because of our relationship was wrong of me. using you was wrong of me. leading you on, pushing you away, fucking with other girls when you were right here . . it was selfish of me, and i'm a dick for it all, i admit that. and i want nothing more than to apologize and make up for all i've done. you didn't fucking deserve that." 
suddenly, he's holding your face in his hands as you weep, both of you unsure of when you broke the distance between you two. "please, please don't cry baby. i'm so sorry." 
words could only mean so much. you weren't sold yet. if he wants you for real, he's going to have to make a better offer than just words. false promises were a learned matter with him. he needed to prove how much you mean to him. 
"i'll do everything in my power to make sure that i am the man you deserve," he whispers, his hold on your face beginning to tighten as you pull him closer by his shirt out of habit. "promise i'll treat you right. i'll never make you feel like you're someone to fix me when i'm going through shit or i'm horny. i'll never make you feel like you have to compete with other women again. i'll never take you for granted again." 
his face is now inches away from yours. his voice, his scent, the warmth he brings, it makes you feel so vulnerable. . . so safe. like that invisible string never broke. eren screaming with hope within, praying you reply. it feels so good to feel your body pressed against his, the scent of your conditioner wafting into his nostrils. he hugs you tightly, afraid that he'll lose you. he's been craving this for so long. 
"i missed this. i missed you," he murmurs between your neck, his grasp becoming a little tighter. you feel his chest slowly rising and falling as a soft sigh escapes his lungs. as the silence continues to grow between the two of you, it's becoming harder for you to find the words you want to say to him. 
"say what you want to say," it's like he read your mind, swallowing deeply before pulling your face back to eye level. he looks down at you. 
"i can’t accept your apology." 
eren slowly pulls away from you, a frown on his face and heartache yanking at his chest. it’s his karma, he knew that well. there was no reason to push you into something you no longer wished for. you’d made up your mind, and he just had to live with that. in the future, possibly learning from his mistake. he swallows, nodding as he backs away, accepting your answer indefinitely. 
“if that’s how you truly feel, then i will respect your boundaries. i’m truly sorry, again. i hate to leave things behind on a bad note, so i wanna tell you that i pray you find the love you deserve, and that i wish you nothing but the best.” 
a final touch of his lips lands on your cheek. eren’s giving you one last smile before turning to walk away. a broken weep cracks from you, lower lip trembling as you hug yourself tightly like he had only seconds ago. he’s halfway gone before you watch him pause, eyes unable to bring them from his figure. you felt like you’d lose the memory of him if you didn’t look. this felt like a horrible breakup neither one of you wanted to end. 
eren’s caught reaching into his jean pocket, pulling out his wallet before he approached you once more, the sadness on your face making this worse for him. “i almost forgot.” 
out of nowhere, eren grabs your hand, opening your palm and placing a cold object into it. you stare confusingly, leveling your palm towards your face to see a sterling silver necklace. it’s a simple piece of jewelry with a single initial. the letter ‘e’. 
"i’ve been meaning to give this to you for a while. i carried it with me every day,” he smiles warmly. 
a mix of surprise and shock washes over you, your brown eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights, or a girlfriend being proposed to. you stare at the necklace in your palm, feeling the featherweight of it, the cool metal against your skin. memories flood your mind — all those times you shared laughing together, graduating high school, sneaking out to see each other, sharing secrets, dreams, and hopes. this symbol represents all of that, and yet, it also reminds you of the pain, the betrayal, the shattered trust. your gaze flickers up to meet eren's, seeing the desperation in his eyes, the vulnerability, the raw emotion. part of you still loves him, still wants to believe in him, in your relationship. but the other part is screaming at you to protect yourself, to move on, to forget. 
"e as in eren," you gasp, lip still trembling. 
"well, yea," he laughs softly. it’s a tangible connection to you, even if things have changed. eren watches your reaction closely, hoping against hope that seeing the necklace might change your mind about him. he swallows hard, his throat tight with emotion. "i was planning on giving it to you when the time was right, even though i wasn’t exactly sure when that would be. i know it's not much, but . . i thought maybe you could keep it as a reminder of our friendship. of everything we shared."
he reaches out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin. "please, ꒰♡꒱,” he whispers, his voice cracking. "don’t throw it away. keep it close to your heart, and remember that i’ll always be here for you, no matter what happens between us."
you notice how close he is to you, and you feel a small amount of nervousness start to set in again. but, you don’t let it show in your expressions, focusing instead on trying to hold yourself together. this was a lot. you’ll always cherish the memories you have together, but, was this really goodbye? did you want him to completely disappear from your life? he’s someone who’s been apart of it for so long. you couldn’t imagine life without him. three months was hard enough, even the two before that. you didn’t want him to be a stranger. you didn’t want him to never speak to you again. you didn’t want to sever your relationship entirely — your connection. 
“i love you, ꒰♡꒱. i really mean that.” 
before he gets the chance to touch you one last time, you're leaning in first, lifting yourself by your tiptoes to press your lips into his. his nose smushed against yours, inhaling sharply as he grabbed your throat, kissing you deeper. as always, you melt into his touch like putty, your entire body bursting with fire when his fingertips brush against your hips under your jersey, pulling you into him harder than he intended. scared to let you go. eren grunts into your mouth when you moan into him, gliding his tongue across yours salaciously, his back arched to bend to your level. another hand huge on the side of your face while he kisses you passionately, turning his head slightly to the side while maintaining his clutch around your throat. 
eren gasps into the kiss, the sudden surge of warmth flooding his senses. his mind goes blank as he loses himself in the sensation of your lips against his, your taste filling his mouth. the hand on your hip tightens instinctively, drawing you closer until there's no space left between you. the unexpected kiss throws him off balance, but he doesn't care. all he knows is that he's lost in the moment, the tension between you both finally breaking. his free hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin as he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours.
“fuck, i love you,” he repeats again, now applying pressure to your ass he squeezes and lifts, his bulge hitting your stomach. it makes your gut flip when he bites your lip, your hands unknowingly trailing up his abdomen, the bumpy path of his abs giving you flashbacks. 
now, he’s kissing along your jawline, down your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your collarbone. his hands are everywhere, roving over your body, caressing and gripping like he can’t get enough of the way you feel against him. his lips move up to your ear where his breath tickles you, your inner thighs locking tight. he murmurs softly into your ear, “i want you . . need you so badly. can i?” 
he sounds slightly breathless, his need for you obvious in his low tone. “can i touch you . . please?” 
“where’s your car?” 
there’s a pause as he registers your question, his mind slightly clouded from the feeling of you against him. “down the street, why?” 
“take me.” 
“you sure?” he asks. even though the desire for you is written all over his face, there’s a hint of hesitation and question in his tone. he needs to be sure this is something you truly want, even if your body speaks before you do. 
“yeah, i’m sure.” 
he takes your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours, and leads you down the hill to where his car is parked. you’re not sure what time it is, but the streets are nearly empty, only a few people roaming around drinking and smoking, the party is still very much still happening. tucking your hand into your pocket, you drop the necklace safely there, feeling protected and giddy as you trail behind him. his frame is so much bigger than yours, staring at the back of his head where he had his hair half tied up, wanting to bury your face into his back to smell him. you spot his black r34 gtr and within seconds you’re standing in front of it, almost as if you teleported. he must’ve been walking really fast. 
he releases your hand to dig for his keys, unlocking his car and opening the passenger side to adjust the seat fully up and make enough room for you both. you’re more at ease knowing his windows were tinted, illegally the blackest of black. with each inhale, he can feel the intensity of the situation starting to build up once again, raising his body only to have you push into him, his body leaning against his car as you squish your lips back into his, growing impatient. 
"wait. ." he paused in between kisses, the heat between your thighs becoming unbearable as he hissed into your mouth. "backseat, now." 
his eyes are trained on your ass as he watches you duck low and climb in the back, practically shoving you inside as he looks over his shoulder before following behind not a moment later. the space is snug, his broad body compared to your own not making the best room, but he’ll make it work. eren pushes you down onto the backseat, covering your body with his own as he resumes kissing you, hands sliding under your shirt to fondle your tits. the way the two of you kiss is feverish, open-mouthed with heavy pants of desperation. the way you equally missed each other spoke loudly through it. 
“take this shit off, it smells like him,” eren possessively begins to tug at the varsity jacket clinging to you. forgetting you still had it on. 
“sorry.” 
he tosses it to the front once it’s off, clutching your throat and tugging at your denim shorts with his unoccupied hand. you understand silently, unzipping them and lifting yourself in an awkward way to remove them along with your pale pink new balances. eren has one knee digging into the seat while he balances himself above you by holding the driver's seat headrest, the other foot flat on the floor as he watches you like you’re prey. 
“you’re so damn pretty, baby. miss you,” his hands go to smooth over your inner thighs up to your knees, your shirt rising to your midsection. 
"mhm, show me how much you missed me," you spread your thighs, pink lace thong swallowing your curves, giving him the obvious hint while balancing yourself on your elbows. 
eren’s mouth waters at the sight, your pussy already leaking for him, the material swallowing you up real good. he mutters ‘fuck’ under his breath, wetting his lips and pushing your knees to your chest, cuffing a finger into the band to pull to the side, groaning at the sight of your bare skin, glistening in your slick with your clit hiding between your lips. he knows he just needs to spread them to see her fully, his favorite part. the soft texture of his tongue carefully begins to graze against your skin, sucking and taking in the smell of your body. a surprised squeak escapes your throat as you feel his finger press against your tight entrance.
"no fingers," his dick jumps from the command, moaning as he spanks the outside of your thigh gently while running his tongue over his bottom lip. "just your tongue." 
“y’not gonna let me feel her?” eren coed teasingly, whimpering when he smacks you again while leaving a sloppy kiss onto the mound of your pussy. “stretch her out f’this dick?”
you crack a grin, back resting on the door while you scoot your ass further down to grind onto his face. “not yet.” 
the sudden sensation of your hands in his hair only fuels eren’s arousal further once you draw him closer, growing needy. his thick tongue slithers out his mouth, pooling with salvia as it laps at your clit with renewed vigor, the taste you leave on his tongue sweet and tangy — intoxicating, driving him wild with lust. it’s so damn good he can’t help but spank the outside of your thigh near your ass, the vibration going straight to your clit and it’s almost like he can feel it when it hits you. moaning into your pussy he gives sloppy kisses while your thighs shake. 
“mmm, yesss," you moan in approval, needing him to do it again. until you're bruised. 
his face heats up from the noises you make, a reddish tint on his cheekbones as he shifts his jaw to suck your clit into his mouth, slick dousing his chin as he pulls your puffy clit between his lips to tug and release. 
"keep going," you arch into him. eren smacks you again, a little harder, and a broken, high pitched hiccup erupts from you, followed by a dragged out moan of his name. 
with a final swipe of his tongue, he feels your body shudder and convulse around him. your cries fill the air as you cum hard, coating his face with your essence. he laps it up greedily, humming and savoring every drop. you didn’t expect to cum that quickly, face heating up from shyness as you cover your face and whine. eren chuckles into your pussy, spluttering as he detaches his lips and buries his face within the curve of your hip bone, unable to stop himself from laughing. it’s silly because this is the second time this has happened. the first being when he ate you out on the hood of his car after getting tipsy during game night. feeling like the alcohol influenced it, but he knows you didn’t drink tonight since he kept an eye on you. 
“shut uppp!”
“that literally took a minute!” he’s clutching his stomach now. 
“you know i’m sensitive,” you pout, popping him on the arm. “make me cum again. unless you can’t.” 
“mhm,” eren nods his head cockily, shocking you when he spanks your clit, scarily switching from playful to dominant. “don’t say that shit when you know it’s wrong.”
eren takes a seat on the opposite side, pulling you to sit on your knees, leaning over him as his eyes lock onto yours filled with a primal hunger. your palming at his thighs still covered in dark jeans, using it to balance your weight as eren stretches his left arm behind you to rub your clit with his fingers, collecting your arousal before sinking his pointer and middle into you. he quickened his pace, pumping his hand faster as he fingers your soppy cunt.
the combination of his hand movements and the sensation of your warm breath on his face sends him spiraling. "fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his voice strained with effort. “can’t wait to have this pussy on me.” 
“eren, touch yourself,” you whine, petting at the shape in his jeans, undoing his button and dragging down his zipper. 
eren keens almost submissively, lifting his hips so you can push his jeans down to his knees, eren releasing his hard dick that throbs excessively in his hold. it’s big and pretty, just like you remembered. a dick you’ll never forget for sure. the curve of it makes it touch his stomach, eren rushing his thumb over the tip, wincing from sensitivity and stroking it vertically away from him. 
"let me spit on it," you chew at your lips, rocking your ass back into his hand, every touch making you feral, inner thighs soaked. 
eren nods with lidded eyes, his breath hitching as he waits for your saliva to coat his slickened fingers. the thought of your spit adding another layer of lubrication to his dick makes him even hotter. gathering your salvia on your tongue, you purse your lips together before spitting onto his dick, a cute ‘puh’ emitting as the two of you watch it trail onto his ring covered fingers, eren groaning and twisting his wrist to spread it along his length. 
“just like that," he encourages, his voice barely above a whisper. "stroke your hand over it, baby. c’mon.” 
you moan, wrapping your hand over it, piled on top of his own. you suck your lips inwardly, face curled up same as his as the two of you beat his dick, the squelching from both your hands and his fingers in your pussy making you equally dizzy. he hisses while keeping his eyes on your face, just looking at you enough to bring him over the edge.
"more?” you ask, the trail of spit already falling from your mouth before he can respond, eren momentarily removing his hand, dick jumping from the reaction as you fist his dick before he does. his overlapping yours this time. 
eren’s response is a strangled cry as he feels the pressure building to a crescendo. your skilled hand working in tandem with his own is too much for him to resist. "yes, fuck yeah," he grits out, his body tensing as he prepares to explode. 
"tell me you love me,” you kiss him softly, your tongue exploring his mouth, tasting him. 
"f-fuckin' love you, mamas," obediently, eren guides your stroking hand over his near-spent cock, growing sensitive from the erotic intensity. each gentle, wet stroke sends aftershocks rippling through his core, leaving him shuddering and panting.
"one more time, baby.”
"love you, nngh, love you.”
"i love you too." 
laying your head on his thigh, he continues to fuck you with his fingers, the squelch of your pussy bouncing off the car windows, continuing their relentless assault. the lewd sounds of your arousal draw him closer to his climax. he can feel your body responding to his touch, your juices coating his digits as he plunges them deeper inside you. with a final, needy thrust of his hips, he unleashes a torrent of cum, coating your joined hands in his hot release.
"that’s it," he whispers huskily, his voice raw with satisfaction. you bring his dick to your face, sticking your tongue out and enclosing your lips around him as you jerk him into your mouth. sucking him off. "ooh, fuck, like that. keep touching me." 
“eren . .  baby, your fingers are s’long,” a shudder forms, squealing and rocking your ass back harder to meet the quickened pace of him fucking you open. he’s pushing you to the brink.
"think you can cream on ‘em?” he teases, his voice husky with desire. he’s using both hands now, the other hitting your ass hard in repetitions, refusing to stop, the action echoing in the small space. "can you? i wanna see you do it. gimme sum to lick up.” 
"f-fuck, y-yess. i can give it to you,” you arch your back. “oh my god.” 
encouraged by your eager response, eren doubles his efforts, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot that makes your muscles clench and a pornographic shout break loose, eren drawing out a ‘yeaaa, baby’, fucking you faster, unoccupied fingers sprawled along your plump ass. his voice fucking with you all over again. 
“mmm. just cum on ‘em. wanna feel it again,” eren’s grip on your hip tightens as he feels your body tense, grinding his palm against your puffy clit.
your sobs are rewarding, your ass burning from his impacts and you give him what he wants like he asked. creaming over his fingers as you cum for the second time, your tummy caving in as you drool on his leg and prolong a whine. body shaking violently with your legs.  
"goddamn. good girl. good girl. you’re so fucking tight," he groans, tasting you off his fingers before going under your stomach to thumb circles on your swollen clit in rhythm with more thrusts. the friction against your clit causes you to scream again, lifting your upper body to distract him by kissing his neck, his ultimate weakness.  
“ooh, you bad girl,” he snarls, his breath coming in ragged gasps. your tongue slicks across his throat before leaving hot kisses, climbing onto his lap by balancing your body on your toes, clutching his shoulders for support as you squat above him. 
eren knows your intention and follows suit, sliding his back down the seat and spreading his legs further apart. reaching behind himself, he leans slightly forward to pull off his hoodie from his backside, his hair getting fuzzy in the process until you smooth it back in place. eren’s hands slide underneath your hot thighs, hooks his arms under your knees, and spread your legs wider apart to accommodate the thickness of his dick as he finally pushes into you.  
“oooh, fuck,” the two of you moan in unison, jaws agape with heavy pants. 
the lewd sounds of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the car, a symphony of raw, animalistic passion. and just like that, he surrenders to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. he loses himself in the moment, pace frenzied, focusing solely on how good it feels to be buried deep inside you after so long, trying to milk him for everything he's got. you arch into him, that warm feeling coursing through your heart that you haven’t felt since that night in the closet. that feel of worship. eren spanks you again, a little harder and a broken, high-pitched hiccup erupts from you, followed by a dragged out moan of his name. 
he steadily lifts you up and down onto his dick as you switch your hips to ride him. the view from below is turning him on — tits bouncing with each movement, your face contorted in pleasure. he raises his hips to meet your downward motion with equal force, driving himself to the depth with each bounce. skin slapping mingling with your moans, pushing you down with the fingers sprawled across your backside, pussy swallowing all of him. 
“you’re doing so well, baby," he praises, his voice a soothing murmur. "just breathe through it." as he inches farther, he captures your lips in a tender kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into the embrace.
"bite me, please,” you whimper desperately, knocking your head back to expose your neck. "need it."
eren’s eyes gleam with wicked intent, not hesitating to bite into you, knowing how much you have a kink for it. you shriek when his teeth sink into your soft flesh, the steady pressure of them is a mind fuck. the bite is firm yet gentle enough not to hurt you. the sharp pain quickly being replaced by an intoxicating rush of pleasure, sending jolts of arousal coursing through your veins. his tongue laves at the spot after letting go, soothing it with languid strokes while his other hand roams over your body, tracing patterns across your curves. 
"you are mine," he swats your ass, pounding faster. "you will always be mine. and you will never run from that." 
you shake your head drunkenly, pupils rolling white, lashes fluttering. "won't run, promise rennie!” 
"you belong to me,” he says once more, wanting you to repeat. eren’s words are punctuated by another slap of his hand, and by this point you’re sure you’re bruised, each strike a claim of ownership. your knees buckle beneath you, but he holds you up, his strong arms locked around you like a demon in heat. 
"i belong to you, baby.”
he increases the speed and intensity of his movements, driving you towards the precipice of ecstasy. you're dripping wet and moaning, your slick coating his cock as he pounds into you. wrapping your arms tightly around his neck while he slams you down. eren’s hands roam over your curves, spreading your cheeks apart as he pulls you down onto his dick with fervor. each thrust is deeper, harder, driven by a primal urge to claim you utterly.
“fuck, mng. g’na . . cum,” you blubber, biting your bottom lip as he pounds into you. 
“look at me, i wanna see your face when i make you cum,” he orders, his voice raw with desire. 
giving him your attention, you struggle to fully keep them open, every vigorous yank and thrust coaxing that bubbly feeling in your gut. he can feel your walls tightening around him, signaling your impending orgasm. "that’s it, baby," he coos, nibbling on your earlobe. "give it to me. gimme that shit. lemme feel it.”
he shifts his position slightly, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot within you that makes your toes curl and your walls clench even tighter around him. the new angle allows him to hit even harder, stroking along your inner walls with each upward thrust.
"take. it. all. baby," he growls between pauses, his breath hot against your ear. when you finally topple over the edge, he swallows your cries with a searing kiss, his own body trembling with unspent need. 
"꒰♡꒱ . . fuck," eren pants, his forehead pressed against yours as he loses himself in the rhythm of your joining, stilling his trembling hips and cumming inside of you, having no strength to pull out. he knows you’re on birth control so he didn’t have to worry.
"oh my fuckin' god," the delicious shiver coursing through your body felt like the ultimate high. brushing your fingers through the strands of his brown hair that had long fallen from it's hair tie. he leans into your soothing ministrations, savoring the intimate connection between you as he slowly comes back down to earth.
you sit like this for a while, eren going soft and lifting you off of him to properly sit you on his lap after dressing himself and you. your legs rest over his while he presses his forehead to yours, still trying to regain his energy.
“oh, i forgot,” you opened your eyes after intimate slow breathing, reaching to the front to search for onyankopon's jacket. you dig into the pocket to retrieve the necklace he’d given you. “put it on me?” 
“of course,” taking the necklace from your hand, he brushed your hair from your shoulders and carefully fastened it around your neck. "you look beautiful," he whispered, his voice tinged with genuine affection.
“thank you,” you smile sweetly, playing with the jewelry. “i love it.” 
“i always knew you would.” 
silence overtakes you for a moment, sitting on your thoughts unwarranted. too much happened today, and your brain was swarming with panic trying to figure out what right move to make. you were tired of overthinking. you just wanted to live in the moment. consequences will come later. what's meant to be will be.
“promise you’ll keep your word this time. no more fights, no more misunderstandings, or playing with my heart. i don’t think i can take another heartbreak. i’ll die.”
sincere contrition casts eren’s expression from your words, gnawing at him all over. eren pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. despite the weight of what's happened between you, despite the pain and hurt, there's an unspoken understanding that you're both willing to move past it.
"i swear on my life i’ll never hurt you like that again. i know i’ve got a lot to make up for, but you mean everything to me,” he murmurs, nuzzling your neck gently. "i love you too much. i’m never taking that for granted.” 
tears well up in your eyes as you stare at eren, searching for any sign of deception. but all you see is sincerity, a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. you nod slowly, trying to hold back the flood of tears.
“okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “i forgive you.” 
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© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month
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lava lamp
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in which spencer reid comforts gn!reader when you find yourself contending with a sudden bout of depression
fluff
warnings/tags: established relationship, reader has depression, task paralysis, spencer reid can't cure your depression but he sure can't make it worse
a/n: this is most definitely not inspired by the pink lava lamp in my room. it has nothing to do with that. extremely short and sweet, WC <800
The room is awash in hot pink. 
It’s interrupted only by dark shadows cutting lines across the floor and the furniture. The blinds are down over the window so moonlight can’t seep in—assuming the moon is in fact out now. You’re not actually sure. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying here like this, studying the soft glow of the lava lamp where it sits on the bedside table, watching the blobs of orange separate and conjoin and float around each other like they’re dancing in the suspending liquid. 
The sound of keys in the front door, of it scuffing against the floor as it opens and squeaking shut and the lock clicking back into place, inspire the tiniest spark of joy inside you. For a few moments you remain in solitude—listening to the sounds of the kitchen sink running as Spencer washes his hands, a glass being set down on the counter, the soft rustle of fabric on fabric as he takes his coat off. Maybe you have really excellent hearing. Maybe you’re just imagining the sounds because you’re so familiar with his post-work rituals. 
Finally the bedroom door opens, catching your legs in a triangle of yellow light, and sounds cease—Spencer is surely standing in the doorway, surely surprised to find you sprawled on the bed, staring vacantly at the lamp you’d purchased last winter from an antique shop. 
The door closes again, encasing you in an amnion of pink warmth once more. 
“Hi,” he says, quietly enough. 
You don’t respond. Not for a lack of affection. Just for a lack of energy, really. Spencer is used to you, and he doesn’t let your heavy mood stop him from moving to sit on the mattress behind you. The heat of his hand is a comforting weight as it finds your back, slowly rubbing up and down. There is always so much love in the way he touches you. 
“How’re you feeling, honey?”
A quiet moment passes in which you’re gathering the energy to speak for the first time in hours. Spencer doesn’t rush you. 
“Tired.”
More quiet. 
“What kind of tired?”
But he knows what kind of tired. 
“I tried to fold laundry,” you mumble, lacking even the gumption to move your mouth much as you speak. You tap the laundry basket with your toe where it sits on the foot of the bed. The laundry inside remains very much unfolded. 
“I can handle it.”
If you had any more vitality you’d say, you shouldn’t have to, you just got home from a full day’s work, I’ll take care of it—but the truth is, you can’t handle it and you can’t take care of anything—not even yourself. All you can do is watch orange bubbles float in radioactive pink liquid. 
“I don’t know what happened,” you whisper. A few tears take you by surprise as they roll down over the bridge of your nose, though your face remains stony. “I’ve been here for hours.”
Spencer’s hand remains steadfast on your back and you wish you could express how grateful you are for it and for him and for his gentle voice, always. 
“Maybe nothing happened. Maybe some days are just hard.”
You sniffle. The answer is unsatisfying, but so is life, sometimes. And you know he’s right. 
“Yeah.”
Time passes. A few minutes, maybe, of listening to your own ears ring, to the haunting frequency of the old building, of the upstairs neighbors walking around and snatches of music coming from cars on the streets below. 
“You know, I sometimes have days where I just want to lie down and stare at the lava lamp too. I think a lot of people feel that way.”
You turn your head just slightly and finally see him, cast in the soft lambent glow, smiling down at you in that unconscious, serene way, that is little more than a curve of his lip. Just seeing his face makes something in your chest unclench.  
“Really?”
The soft arch of his smile flickers momentarily wider. 
“Metaphorically speaking.”
He’s perfect. 
You reach over your own waist to grab his hand, and he interlocks your fingers, running his thumb over yours. 
Spencer knows it, but you tell him anyway. “I love you.”
He leans down and kisses you, so softly it’s like medicine. 
You know it, but Spencer says it back anyway, sweetly against your lips, heads pressed together. “I love you.”
And you much prefer this view to the lava lamp. 
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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Reader commenting on Spencer’s hands being cold, and he starts excitedly rambling about the best ways to heat them up, like putting them under armpits. Only to get completely thrown back when she stuffs his hands in her under boob to keep them nice and warm and strong :) <3
Your eyes are drawn to Spencer's hands when he starts curling them into fists, rapidly clenching and unclenching them in the chilly Chicago air. You're sitting cross-legged on the stoop of a witness's home, waiting for JJ to return from questioning her. She'd been uneasy with such a heavy government presence in her home, and you don't blame her for it, so you'd elected to stay outside with Reid.
"Cold, Spence?" You ask, and he nods sheepishly, his curls flying.
"I'm trying to get circulation back to my fingers," He explains, shaking his hands out for a brief second before curling them again, "Moving your fingers gets your blood flowing, but there's only so warm I can get in 30-degree weather."
You smile sympathetically at him, watching as his nails dig into his palms once more with a curl of his fingers, "Maybe we can bribe JJ to get us coffee on the way back to the precinct."
"They never give me the sugar I ask for," Spencer laments, shaking out his fingers once more, "I think they think I'm trying to steal their supply, but I really just like having eight packets in one cup."
The snort that you let out releases a puff of visible breath into the cold morning air. As it dissipates Spencer tries breathing into his hands, but his skin is still pale, nail beds dangerously close to turning purple, and you sigh resignedly.
"Come here, Spence," You hold your hands out, and he looks curiously up at you. His head tilts just barely to the side, and you're reminded of a confused puppy.
"Give me your hands," You urge, emphasizing the way that you're holding yours out. He does so without question, but you can tell that you've certainly improved circulation to his face, because his cheeks are blazing hot with a rosy blush when he obeys.
"Body heat really helps," You promise, unzipping the fabric of your FBI windbreaker. You hold both of Spencer's hands in your free hand now, but when your jacket is properly unzipped you lead his hands straight to your torso. They're posed on your ribcage, and Spencer stills, watching the way that they touch you with wide eyes.
"Under- there," You slip his hands up an inch, letting them slip into the space beneath your bra, your skin flushed with natural heat that soaks into Spencer's veins like sunlight to a wilting plant. Contrary to the body heat now flooding his limbs he's frozen, eyes wide and jaw slack as you stuff his hands beneath your chest.
"That better?" You ask, shimmying slightly in place and jostling his hands. Your bra slips further over the backs of his hands and only makes them warmer, enveloping him in even more of your body heat. He gulps, you actually see his throat bob, and nods silently, still leaned forwards to take in more of your warmth.
"Thanks," He breathes, trying very hard, and failing very miserably, to pretend like he's not about to combust.
You're almost certain that his hands are barely thawed at all when JJ steps abruptly out of the front doors of the building, and her boots skid to a stop in front of you and Spencer. You glance up at her with a warm smile, but Spencer yanks his hands away, wringing them out in his lap with wide eyes.
"Uh, she was- we were just... my hands-" Spencer babbles, and the more he struggles, the more her smirk grows over her face.
"His hands were cold," You explain, reaching out to grab them once more and squeezing the barely-tepid skin, "Let's hurry and get into the car, we can turn the heat on full blast."
You've seen Spencer exhibit a mild jog while chasing unsubs, his gun held at his side like it's a bag of bricks, but he skitters to the SUV faster than you've ever seen him move, leaving you and JJ behind on the steps of the apartment building.
"So, did he put his hands there, or did you?" JJ asks, and you don't need to see her face; you know from the mirth in her voice that she's still smirking as you stand up.
"I did," You grunt, trying very hard, and failing very miserably, to pretend like you're not about to combust, "He was shivering, JJ. What was I supposed to do, let him freeze to death?"
"No, no," She raises her hands in a gesture of surrender but her voice still contains that sadistic amusement, "You're right. A word of advice, though: next time, stick his hands between your thighs. It's a lot warmer down there."
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bratbby333 · 5 months
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a proper send off — toji fushiguro
synopsis: step daddy!toji trains ur holes stakes his claim before you go off to college ♡ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ content warnings: taboo; step!cest, age gap (reader is over 18!), rough sex, lots of praise, teasing, heavy use of pet names, dom/sub, dd/lg, p in v, cervix-fucking, tummy bulge, buttplug, throat-fucking, edging, overstimulation, mating press, creampie ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ word count: 5.3k...straight filth ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ author notes: i was in a very specific mood when i wrote this...i hope you all enjoy!! xx not beta read !
nsfw 𓆩♡𓆪 mdni
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"Toji!" you chirped, running toward the buff older man as he exited his vehicle. His arms stretched wide as he met you on the sidewalk, leaning down to catch your small figure as you leapt into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. He gripped you tight against his body, rocking the two of you back and forth. 
You had only been apart for about four hours, but it might as well had been three months with the way the two of you clung to one another. 
"How was orientation, my sweet girl?" Toji asked, lowering you to the ground gently, placing a light peck on the top of your head. Your small hand wrapped around his last two fingers as he guided you toward the car, opening the door and getting you settled in the passenger seat.
"Mmmm, super boring...but I learned a lot!" you beamed, shuffling your feet around the floorboards while he turned the key in the ignition. 
The ride home was filled with you telling Toji all about your class schedule, which courses you were excited about, and how your new dorm looked after you had finished decorating it. He smiled kindly, offering the occasional hum or nod in response—he found your aimless ramblings so precious. Your darling voice was like music to his ears. His sweet little girl.
But something plagued his thoughts during the forty-five minute trip. A lingering appetite that he worked so hard to suppress. A dark, elusive feeling that manifested in the pit of his stomach. His grip was tight on the steering wheel, teeth gritted ever so slightly. Worry crept across his face at the realization that the dreaded day rapidly approached him. He was sure he had more time.
He was going to lose you, the inevitability of college now knocking at the door. 
He had gotten so used to having you around, falling in love with your sickeningly sweet nature, your tantalizing aura that oozed innocence. He worried that you wouldn't make it out there on your own; even at your grown age you still looked to him for any sort of guidance, big or small. He loved it. Loved how much you depended on him, how you couldn't live without him.
He knew the sudden departure of your mother hurt you more than you let on, so he made it his mission to keep you safe, feeling wholeheartedly responsible for your well-being, even though he had only been in your life for about a year. 
It was the most fulfilling year he'd ever experienced, far better than the time he had spent with your mother. It was unexpected, hell, it was even frowned upon, but he couldn’t help how he felt. He loved you more than he ever could have loved her, feeling an odd sense of relief when she had finally left, and feeling elated when you decided to stay with him rather than her. A burning question stirred in the back of his mind; were these feelings reciprocated? He didn’t dare find out the answer, instead hoping it would be presented to him first.
It didn’t take much time for the truth to unfurl right before his eyes; why you really wanted to live with him rather than your mom, the (not so) innocent way you began to cling to him…oh, how you loved your Daddy, and how he loved his little girl, too.
Toji knew there was evil out there, people who would take advantage of your soft heart and overly-trusting nature without a second thought. He couldn't let you get hurt.
He tried his best to convince you not to go to college, or at the very least, just commute to campus each day. He wanted to keep you close, to be there for you, to protect you. 
He was successful at getting you to take a gap year, but he could tell his baby girl was getting antsy. Your stubbornness persevered— adamant about furthering your education and staying in the dorms. You were set on going out on your own and he knew he couldn't stop you anymore. 
But he couldn't send his pretty girl out into the world without breaking her in first. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Upon immediate entry to your home, you were ordered to the bedroom, the rough rasp of Toji's voice echoing through your ears as you made your way to his room. 
"Daddy, did I do somethin’ wrong," you questioned softly, lips pouted slightly, voice quiet as you fumbled with the hem of your short, pleated skirt. Seated on the edge of the bed, you kicked your feet around anxiously as he stared down at you. 
"No, nothin' like that, sweetheart," he soothed, grasping your face in hands, his rough thumbs dragging across your blushed cheeks. Your wide eyes swam with curiosity as you stared back up at him.
"Listen t'me very closely, darlin'," he continued, crouching down to your level. Your neck instinctively relaxed, your head falling into his hands, nuzzling into his grasp. "You're going out into the world alone...I won't be around to keep you outta trouble anymore..." his voice trailed off as his eyes searched yours. 
"Mhmm, I know, Daddy," you giggled back, "Y'tell me that everyday." This is why he loved having you to all to himself...in public, he was "Toji"; in private, you only ever called him "Daddy". His little girl was damn good at keeping secrets...it only made things more exciting.
The look in your eyes drove Toji wild; deep, enticing pools of virtue. It was only right that he got to be the one to ruin you, to give you a proper send-off. He hated the idea of you being with someone that wasn't him, so he hoped, prayed, to mold your pussy perfectly around his cock to ensure no other man could live up to the standard he set in your life.
A slight growl erupted from the back of his throat as he continued to pet you. "There's somethin' we gotta do, baby girl,'' he took a knee in front of you, his hands resting atop your plush thighs, massaging them gently. 
"You 'member what we had talked about when you finally decided to go away for college?" he added, working his way up under your skirt. Your breath hitched as you focused on the circles he was drawing on your upper thighs, your head dropping to the side. 
"Uh huh...I do, Daddy," you were already breathless as anticipation swirled through your stomach. Toji hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs. Your shirt was removed next, leaving you in only your lacy ankle socks and skirt. 
"You ready? Think ya can handle this, angel?" he asked sternly as he strummed around your warm center. Your face twisted up in pleasure as he played with your pussy. "Uh huh..mmm...yes, D-daddy..'m ready," your voice wavered as his thick finger prodded at your needy hole. 
He pushed you back onto the bed, dipping his digit into the second knuckle, curling it slightly to toy with your g spot. You were already a moaning mess for him, the high pitched whimpers that fell from your lips sent pangs of arousal straight to his dick. The way you writhed around for him at the smallest stimulation made his skin burn. 
Every moment you spent watching him from afar, your innocent daydreams that manifested into dark desires at night, the way you’d hug him for just a bit longer than usual; each time his mind wandered to you, guilt nipping at his spine…it was all worth it.
He was addicted to you well before he ever actually had you— but after that fateful night, a few weeks after the divorce was finalized and your mom moved out, with your unexpected appearance in his room as you crawled into bed with him. The way your arms wrapped so tight around him, how your soft breaths danced so delicately across his bare skin, how perfectly your nestled head fit into the crook of his neck. His appetite became insatiable...his baby girl. The smoothness of your skin as he traced drifting lines around each curve of your precious figure. He couldn't get enough. 
Toji dipped down to kiss along your sweet skin as his finger continued to shallowly work into your dripping cunt. He licked and nipped at you, the taste of your flesh overwhelming his senses. His tongue narrowed as he got to your ear, lapping at it feverishly, suckling at your lobe. "Sound so good f'me, baby." You panted at his words, the coils in your tummy beginning to bubble up. 
He felt you clench around him and immediately withdrew from you. You whined at his absence, your hole spasming around nothing, your thighs pressing together in a feeble attempt to quell the pulsing between your legs. He grinned at your anguished huffs as he stood, removing his clothes. Your need for release still churned in your stomach as a small groan left your lips, pouting up at him. Toji only chuckled in response. "Not yet, sweetheart..." he teased, tossing his shirt aside. He was moving in accordance with his deepest, darkest secrets...he needed you to want him, to crave him, to not want to exist without him.
You knew better than to complain, Daddy always came through for you.
"How do you wanna start, princess," he asked while discarding his jeans, his throbbing girth standing proud in front of you. He loved when you asked for what you wanted, when you spoke your mind without shame. That’s a big part of being independent, right? He wanted to teach you, after all.
"Can I suck it, Daddy...love the way you taste," you mewled, your words coated with neediness as you leaned forward to grasp him in your small hands, licking your lips as spit pooled in your mouth. Toji had you right where he wanted you, he worked hard to fine-tune your body to respond to him and only him. You were completely wrapped around his finger. You looked starved, desperate for his cock to pound into your throat. 
"Of course, baby, gotta train that mouth of yours, hmm?" he teased, smirking as he positioned himself in front of you. "Already take me so well...let's see how deep you can go." His thick, dripping head pushed past your lips, your tongue swirling around his tip as you worked to take him further, choking on him as he settled in the back of your throat. Your eyes welled up with tears as you struggled to breathe around his substantial girth. "Relax, baby girl...breathe through your nose f'me," he soothed, running his fingers through your hair before squeezing the sides of your cheeks. "Look s’pretty like this," he grunted, his hips rocking into your mouth slowly.
He worked his cock in and out, groaning at how tight your throat was constricting around him. "Mouth's so hot n wet f'me..doin so good princess," he muttered, his jaw tight as he watched his dick slide between your taut lips. He grasped at the back of your head firmly, his other hand still squeezing at your hollowed out cheeks. "That’s it…keep it nice n tight."
His pace picked up, the sloppy sounds of Toji fucking into the back of your throat danced around the heady air of the room. You stared up at him, blinking away the tears that poured from your eyes, eager to capture the way his face twisted in pleasure as trails of spit dribbled down your chin. You loved pleasing him…loved the way that even the biggest and strongest men’s composure could waver. You knew Daddy’s tipping point, and you were dead-set on taking him there.
You felt him twitch inside your mouth as you hummed against him, the vibrations running through his cock and straight to his balls, his head thrown back at the added stimulation. "Mmm, there ya go, sweetheart...so fuckin' good. Pretty girl wants my cum, huh?" 
You nodded furiously, or as much as you could with his dick in your mouth and his hand still palming the back of your head, his strokes forcing you to take all of him. 
You gasped and coughed as Toji abruptly pulled your head off him, smearing a mixture of saliva and pre cum across your cheeks as he rubbed himself around your lips. "Open...tongue out for me, baby girl," he commanded. You obeyed immediately, your wide, pleading eyes staring up at him as Toji smacked his rock-hard girth against your hot tongue.
His hands gripped either side of your head, pulling your hair into makeshift pigtails as he shoved into your mouth again, smirking as you gagged around him, spit running between your tits and pooling in your lap. His eyes went dark at the sight, utterly consumed by how beautiful you looked while you sucked him off. God, how he’d miss his little girl. He pulled you off him again, amused at how much his princess was struggling to take him. "C'mon, doll, I know you can do better than that," he taunted, before ramming himself back in. 
Your lungs burned while your mouth stretched wide to accommodate him, his thick head bullying the back of your throat. “Stay with me,” he grunted as he left small smacks against your taut cheeks. You fought against your heavy eyelids, struggling to hold his gaze. 
With a rough jut of his hips, your nose was flush against his pelvis while he unloaded down your throat. Tears cascaded down your rosy cheeks at the inundation, heat coursing through you at the carnal sounds that left his chest. He pulled out with a pop, leaving you sputtering and coughing. The savory warmth of his cum coated your tongue, licking your lips to ensure you didn't waste a drop.
You dizzily gazed up at him as you worked to regain your breath. "Open up, show me you swallowed it all," he murmured, his breathing labored as he cupped the underside of your chin. Your lips parted as you stuck your tongue out. Toji hummed in approval as he checked your mouth for any remaining trace of his seed. "Good fucking girl...so needy for Daddy's cum, huh?" You nodded, giggling breathlessly, your throat sore from Toji's intimidating girth.
"Lay back for me, sweetheart," he said firmly, stroking himself as he watched you readjust on the bed. Toji kneeled on the edge, grasping your legs and throwing them around his waist. "So pretty...you know those boys will be all over you, yeah?" 
You shook your head furiously, pouting at the thought of being with anyone but Toji. "N-no, no daddy...only wan' you," you huffed, locking your feet behind his back. Your hands splayed across his abdomen, tracing lines around his prominent muscles. He leaned forward to position himself at your soaked core. "Mm..I know, doll," he cooed, his hand cupping your cheek as his other arm propped himself up. "But I gotta get you good n ready just in case. I can't have you embarrassing me out there...I did raise you, after all," he spoke low, the rasp of his voice sending chills to your core. 
“Some of 'em will be gentle with ya,” he murmured, inching deeper and deeper into you. His face was kind, a small smile twitching on his lips. He looked down at you, his eyes brimming with adoration and arousal, the o-shape of your swollen, parted lips and flushed cheeks pulled a raspy groan from his chest. 
He sunk into your warmth, his thick cock dragging in and out gently, his head brushing against your sweet spot with merciful thrusts.
You fussed at his teasingly slow pace, his girth stretching you out perfectly. It took every ounce of his willpower to not break you in half right then and there, driving himself into you with fervor, the jealousy biting at his spine fueling each rough jut of his hips at the thought of you with someone else. He maintained his leisurely rhythm, working you up until you reached your breaking point. "Need more..ahh...p-please Daddy...give m'more," you begged.
“Mmm, I know you do...but I gotta show you what you're gonna get when you mess with boys." His unhurried strokes antagonized your milky cunt that ached to be pounded properly. You writhed around underneath him, bucking your hips in hopes that he’d give you more, but you knew your efforts were all in vain. Toji smiled down at you with a raise of his brow, still inadequately sliding into you. Oh how he loved how needy you were for him, how easy it was to make you squirm. You were close to breaking down, tears beginning to surface as you begged for him to go faster, harder…anything. 
“This isn’t enough for you, is it?” he taunted, his palms on either side of your cheeks, rubbing away your tears with a quick flick of his thumbs. “Uh uh…need more, please,” you whined, pressing your head against his hands. 
Toji stared down at you with a coy smile as he watched you unravel, how hungry your sopping walls were for a good pounding. He wanted to play with you some more, to have you crying over how badly you need him. "Ya like it rough, isn’t that right, my sweet girl?” He toyed with your puffy clit as his tempo remained steady. “Love when I use you as my pretty little fleshlight, yeah?”
You nodded furiously. He grinned down at you, pulling your hips up toward him as his tempo suddenly changed, the new angle pounding directly into your g spot. 
“A…ahh!! F-fuckkk, Daddy,” you cried out, your head bouncing around to match his forceful rhythm. His hips were mercilessly rutting into you, every jolt bringing you closer and closer to your release as he continued to thumb at your swollen clit. You clenched around him, eyes locked on his as short pants left your lips.
"No, baby...not yet." He pulled out immediately, flipping you, lifting your hips as he shoved a pillow under your stomach. His hands rubbed circles into the flesh of your ass as he prodded himself against your cunt. You moaned, ready to complain to him as your body ached for release. His palm found the back of your head, pushing your face into the mattress, successfully silencing you. “Shh…let me play with you, princess.”
Toji flipped up your skirt to reveal the pink rhinestone nestled perfectly between your cheeks. "That's my girl, kept it in all day f'me, hmm?" He gripped the plug and pulled it out, spitting a fat glob of saliva onto the hole before circling the sensitive ring and shoving it back in, plunging the toy in and out of your tightness. 
Your hips pushed toward him, your already broken resolve absolutely crumbling from the prodding sensation in your ass. You prayed he'd let you cum soon. An unbearable ache coursed through you; a dull, evil reminder of your denied orgasms. 
"M-mmhm..wanna be so good f'you, Daddy.” Your head spun, the static sobs that ripped though your sore throat bounced through the room, echoing through Toji's ribcage and ricocheting around his heart.
He couldn't help the twisted smile that cracked across his face, his precious little girl, how obsessed you were with his cock, how gluttonous you were to have him nestled within your gummy walls. 
Truth be told, he was ravenous for your warmth. He loved how quickly he could wind you up and how easy it was to make you snap. He adored the way you shook when he'd bottomed out against you, the precious sounds that you made only for him.
His chest tightened at the gnawing thought of not having you anymore. He couldn't let you know that...couldn't show you how badly he needed you, how much he loved you and your perfect pussy. He gritted his teeth at his insecurities; his nagging fear of losing you, how he dreaded letting you go. How desperate he was to make this last forever. 
He prodded himself in and out... in and out... iiin and ooout, only giving you about an inch each time before he removed himself again, his brows furrowed with a hungered expression, wanting to savor the way you sucked him in with greed. Your hole clenched down on him in a pitiful attempt to keep him inside, only for him to leave you empty once more. "P-plea..se, Daddy," your voice trembled, "Need you so so bad," your head thrashed around as you babbled, your thighs shaking as Toji tormented your gushing cunt. He smirked down at your twitching frame, getting off on how needy you were, how your back arched so deeply in hopes that he'd push all the way in. 
"Already cock drunk and I've barely fucked you, hmm?" His aching cock teased at your spasming entrance some more, his fingers pushing and pulling the plug in and out of your ass. Your soft whines circled around his head, his chin tucked into his clavicle as he watched your holes stretch at the intrusions. “My dirty fuckin’ girl…you love when I tease you, don’t ya?”
“I–” your words caught in your throat as he shoved all the way, the head of his cock caressing the deepest parts of you with ease, the delicious girth of his member stretching you out so fucking perfectly. Your cheek pressed firm against the mattress, hands pulling at the sheets, your fists balled up tight around the fabric as overstimulating pleasure raked through you. Relishing in sinful bliss as Daddy finally gave you what you so pitifully longed for, the rough jerk of his hips smacking into the fat of your ass.
Toji was unraveling. His darkened gaze raked up and down your figure, reveling in the way your flesh rippled at the strength of his unrelenting strokes. He leaned over, one hand pressed into your lower back, the other grabbing hold of your bunched up skirt, pulling you to meet his thrusts.
“S-so–ungh–so deep, Daddy,” you mewled. Toji smirked, reaching around to press a firm palm against your tummy, growling as he felt himself deep in your gushy walls. “Mmm, I know, princess, but you’re taking me so well.” His brutal pace was splitting you in half. It felt unreal, impossible even, that nirvana had begun to manifest within your reality in the form of Toji’s thick cock absolutely destroying you, your gushing cunt greedily sucking him in, yearning to savor your little slice of paradise. 
“God, this pussy was made for me, huh? So fuckin’ perfect.” His filthy words sent undulations of ecstasy through you, making you constrict around him, the coils in your stomach forming once again.
“You’re gettin’ close, aren’t ya,” he huffed out, his fingers trailing lower to rub your clit. You clenched down on him, a tell-tale sign of affirmation. His thick tip brushed against your cervix, making you cry out, relishing in bliss on the steps toward heaven’s gates.
“Ahhh! Y-yes!…oh, Daddy, yes!” You were a blubbering mess, the tightening sensation in your stomach increasing tenfold at his added stimulation.
Toji’s mind was in shambles as he battled his own filthy conscience, torn between denying your pleasure once more or redirecting his attention toward his new goal: make you fall apart on him over and over again. He struggled to weigh his options as your cock-drunk cries echoed through the room, the delicious sound of skin slapping against skin clouding his mind.
“Grippin’ me s’tight, princess. Fuuuck– wanna cum, baby girl?” His jaw locked as his fingers dug into your soft skin. “Mhm…,” your voice was airy as you nodded vigorously, trying your hardest to form coherent sentences as his heavy balls slapped against you, “...pleasepleaseplease, Daddy–ugnhh–wanna cum s’bad…wan’ cum f’you,” you rambled, drunk off the way he was splitting you in half. The squelching sounds of your greedy little cunt coupled with your staggered whimpers and filthy begging finalized his desicion; Fuck breaking you in, Daddy was going to break you.
“That’s it…c’mon, baby,” his mean, persistent thrusts made your head spin, his fingers rubbing quick circles against your throbbing clit. “Cum. Now. Make a mess on Daddy,” he growled. Your eyes screwed shut, his permission ringing through your ears as you felt the tension in your stomach finally snap. Your face contorted as you squirted, painting your sweet juices onto his strong thighs. An animalistic growl broke through Toji’s chest as he worked you through your blinding orgasm, spurred on by the warm spray beading down his lower half and onto the mattress below you.
He pumped into you a few more times before pulling out. You nearly sobbed at the emptiness. As overstimulating as Daddy’s cock was, you couldn’t help but revel in the way he stuffed you. Your head spun while he manhandled you, flipping you onto your back, his strong hands pressing against your thighs. “Hold your legs there f’me, pretty girl,” he rasped. You diligently obeyed, your shaking hands anchoring into the pits of your knee, pulling your legs deeper into your sides as he rubbed himself against your drenched folds, the firm pressure of his shaft against your clit sending chills through your exhausted body.
You stared at him with a low-lidded expression.Your mouth fell agape while he smacked his member against your clit. A trail of spit dribbled from the corner of your mouth as he sunk back into you, your eyes shooting open as you cried out for him. He returned to his harsh pace immediately, giving you no time to recover from your orgasm. His hands replaced yours against the back of your legs. You clawed down his taut abdomen as he used his new found leverage to bury himself deeper inside you with every rough bump of his hips. 
“D-daddy–ahhh!– ‘s too much,” you cried out, your palms pressing into his torso in hopes he’d slow down a bit.
“Move your fuckin’ hands,” he growled, “Be good…play with your pussy f’me,” his cock colliding with the furthest wall of your gushing cunt. His palm pressed against your tummy, nasty groans falling from his lips as the added pressure made you even tighter. “You jus’ feel too good, princess.” His breathing staggered as he reveled in your warmth.
“So deep…oh, fuuuck! Daddy you’re so f-fucking deep,” you babbled, your words drawn out as electricity shot to your core, your fingers rubbing your sensitive clit. Your walls fluttered, the churning in your stomach returning with urgency. You clenched down around him, guiding the head of his cock to drive straight into your sweet spot. 
“Fuckin’ milkin’ me…gonna come again, baby girl?” You nodded profusely, ears ringing as your eyes rolled back. Your brain was numb—he was all you could feel, the only thing that made sense; Daddy. You were delirious, dickmatised, even. Oh how badly you wanted to marinate in this bliss, to make it last forever.
“Gimme another one…c’mon,” Toji’s foundation wavered as he stared down at you, pure, unadulterated lust swirling around his irises. He was about to break, utterly consumed by all things you. The sweet sounds you made for him, how perfectly your cunt molded around him, the way your sloppy walls hugged him so tight as you came around him once more. You were made for him and vice versa. 
“That’s it baby–Good…Fucking…Girl.” You cried out as his thrusts emphasized his praise, burying himself impossibly deep, his head kissing your womb. 
Every neuron in your body fired off at once as his strokes persisted. You were beyond saving, your entire existence orbiting around the man that was actively breaking you in half. He was the driving force in your life, the sole reason your atoms continued to vibrate and your heart pumped crimson through you. He was everything. 
Toji watched as you fell apart, expelling all the air from his lungs as he released a deep, guttural moan. The sight of your trembling body and the feeling of your quivering cunt around him made his heart beat with such fervor it practically slammed into his ribs. But it wasn’t enough, not right now. Not in the state of vulnerability, of fear, that he found himself in. He wasn’t ready for this to end. And it wasn’t going to, not if he could help it. 
He grinned down at you, his words bouncing around your skull as you attempted to wrap your head around his request: “Again.”
You wanted to give up, knowing damn well it would break you if you came any more. But when Daddy demanded another orgasm from his sweet little girl, you delivered. You’d be foolish not to.
“One more…just give me one more,” he coaxed, his fingers replacing yours, thrumming viciously at your clit. “C’mon, baby girl…Make me proud,” his head cocked to the side as he watched your pleading eyes shut once more, succumbing to the waves you had no choice but to ride.
Another soul-crushing orgasm raked its way through you. Every sense in your body dulled and heightened simultaneously. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you cried out in delight, your body drowning in a lethal dose of euphoria. 
After a few more pumps, he leaned down to press his chest against yours. Your shaking legs locked behind his back as he bottomed out, tugging your hips up as he shot a thick load deep inside you. You were breathless, light-headed, stuck in a state of ecstasy. Even with an empty head, you knew one thing for certain– triumph. The sounds he was making told you everything you needed to know. You were so good for Daddy. Your nails dragged across his back while you wrapped him up in your arms, desperate to feel as much of him as you could. 
Toji sat back up, pulling out of you as he crouched down at your core, spreading your puffy lips with his thumbs, beaming with pride as he watched his cum dribble out. You were his. “Did so good for me, princess.” He placed a gentle kiss on your clit as he realigned his face with yours, “Made me so proud.”
You offered only a small smile in response, reeling in enlightenment. You laid still while he cleaned you up, though you didn’t really have a choice. Your legs were numb and your back ached with a dull, constant reminder of who you truly belonged to. No one could fill the space that Toji held in your life. You weren’t going anywhere.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Your tired bodies laid intertwined, the sound of synchronized breaths drifted through the room as the two of you relished in post-coital bliss. The love that pulsed from his chest into yours solidified your decision. There was nowhere else you wanted to be. 
“Daddy?” you hummed while he rubbed deep circles into your lower back.
“Yes, baby girl?”
“I…I think I’m gonna take another gap year.” You could hear a pin drop in the deafening silence that fell between the two of you as your words hung in the still air. Your heart thrummed as you waited for his response, anxiety running rampant in your body in hopes that he wouldn’t be angry with you. But you needed him. You knew where you belonged.
Your admission rang through Toji’s ears. His breath quickened every so slightly as his calloused hands dragged up and down your body, his lips pressing into the top of your head. It took every fiber of his being to keep his composure, to not jump from his skin at his victory. He did it. 
“If that’s what you want, princess. I support you.” His voice was steady, but his nonchalance was insincere. He was elated. He got to keep his little girl around, and he had no intention of letting go. 
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ author notes: the need i have for this man is insatiable... this was my first fic for toji so i had to do it up
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ tag list: @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @sadmonke @tojislittleprincesss
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© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.
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eloves-writes · 2 months
Text
feeling’s mutual
[max verstappen x reader]
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desc: max overhears his teammate having some alone time in her driver’s room, and can’t help himself knocking on to see what she’s doing
warnings: swearing, masturbation (f+m), mutual masturbation, implied age gap, dom!max
a/n: this came to me like a prophetic vision. just kidding, except not really bc i wrote this so fast. it’s like 2am and i need to sleep, but i hope you enjoy, requests open as always (!!), comments and reblogs are so so loved and appreciated (just like you!). mwah mwah mwah ily
this work contains mature themes, minors do not interact
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the first practice session had been rough; you were new to redbull after getting promoted from f2 mid-season, and you weren’t quite getting used to the car as quick as you’d hoped. pair that with some subpar upgrades and you’d been left in the middle of the time sheet, whilst your teammate had topped the board like always. to make matters worse, your boyfriend, a fellow f2 driver, had dumped you when you moved up and the sexual frustration was started to grate on you too.
luckily, you’d managed to weasel your way out of media commitments and strategy meetings between the two practice sessions and had some time to kill two birds with one stone and attempt to release some tension with your trusty vibrator. it came in a carry case that made it look completely unsuspicious in your handbag, and after a quick check outside your driver’s room to make sure nobody was lingering, you took it out and began to undress from the waist down.
for some reason, the image of your teammate came to mind as you turned the toy to its lowest setting and placed it against you. the way his hand would linger on your waist when he spoke to you, the feeling of him pressed up against your back as he tried to move past you in a crowded garage, your tits on his chest through the fabric of your suits on the rare occasion he hugged you. even his voice, that dutch accent, and the anger in it when he came back to the redbull suite after a bad session.
quickly, waves of pleasure were sent through your body and you turned up the vibrator to the next intensity. god, he could be so insufferable sometimes. complaining about podiums because he didn’t win, moaning about every interview he had to give as if he wasn’t the reigning world champion. and he was older than you, not by too much, but enough that the thought of him fucking you made you wet with a sort of dirty lust you didn’t feel with men your own age. as you started to really feel good, you let out a small, breathy whimper that wouldn’t have been heard by anybody, except that max himself was in his own driver’s room beside yours listening closely, practically with his ear against the wall.
he’d heard a quiet, mechanical whirring as he scrolled through his phone, and thought nothing of it- a common sound to hear at an f1 track. it wasn’t until he really listened, and noticed an accompaniment of heavy female breathing that he realised the direction the sound was coming from; your room. his younger, beautiful teammate who he could never touch, but could perversely rake his eyes over whenever you wore something tight, short, or low cut. admittedly, he felt like a bit of a creep thinking of you in such a way whilst you were doing nothing at all sexual, but this was different. he could listen. and it wasn’t his fault, really, that he could hear you. and it really wasn’t his fault that he could hear you moan his name, and that his legs seemed to be taking him out of his door and towards yours.
you didn’t mean to say it out loud, it had just slipped out, but the sound of it painfully turned you on so you tried it again and found yourself coming closer to the release you’d been craving so badly. you whispered it again, ready to bring yourself over the edge, before being so rudely interrupted by a knock on your door.
“shit,” you whispered, fumbling to turn the vibrator off and find some pants. you’d left some sweatpants on the floor and quickly pulled them up, hopping over to your door. you opened it to be met with the face of the man you’d been fantasising about. your cheeks involuntarily blushed a crimson, ferrari red.
“max!” you started, trying to act normal. how the fuck did you speak to him again? “what’s up?”
that definitely wasn’t it. max smirked, raising an eyebrow to look beyond you and to the sofa you’d been laying on moments before. “just checking you’re ok,” he spoke slowly.
“yeah?” you replied as fast as you could. “why wouldn’t i be ok?”
he chuckled softly. “i … heard something. thin walls.”
your face dropped again. you scrambled for something to say, an explanation, but max beat you to it.
“can i come in?”
you nodded slowly, letting him into your room and closing the door behind him. you felt sheepish, stupid for not keeping yourself quiet. you couldn’t look him in the eye, despite where your mind had been wandering previously.
“did you finish?” he asks, not struggling at all to make eye contact like you were.
you didn’t know what you expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. you stayed silent, trying and failing again to think of a response.
“i asked, y/n,” he repeated himself, “did you finish?”
his expression was not one that you’d seen on him before, and you found yourself shaking your head. “no.”
he took a seat in the chair opposite the sofa. “go on then,” he dared. you looked at him like he’d just asked you to rear end him on the track on sunday. “show me what you were doing. i want to watch.”
stunned into silence once again, your hands operated separately from your brain and pushed your sweatpants to the floor. you lay back down on the sofa, taking up the same position as earlier, and picked up your vibrator that you’d promptly shoved behind a cushion when he’d knocked. he didn’t look away once, his eyes darting from your face to your wet cunt between your open legs. you placed the toy against you once again and switched it back on. it felt so much more intense now, both from how close you’d been before and from max watching you. he didn’t say anything as you started to rhythmically move your hips in response to the vibrations, but slid a hand into his pants to stroke himself in time with your movements.
the orgasm came back to you quickly, and as you moved faster so did max’s hand on his cock.
“say my name, schat, like you did before.”
your eyes flickered over to him before you obliged without the confidence you’d said it with when you were alone.
“no, no. look at me,” he demanded. just the sight of him stroking himself, watching you get yourself off, made you moan his name again, properly.
“good girl, that’s better.”
that earned another moan from you, making you cum and release onto the sofa with a whine of pleasure. max finished himself almost instantly, spilling into his own hand. you passed him a tissue, but he shook his head.
“for your …” you said, confused.
he offered his palm out to you, covered in his release. “clean it up, schat.”
if he wanted to play it that way, you could play too. you held the bottom of his hand, and sat your still wet and naked cunt over his thigh before fixing your eyes on his and licking his cum from his hand.
“that’s cute,” he said sarcastically. “now there’s a wet spot on my jeans, looks like i’ve pissed myself.”
you shrugged your shoulders innocently and hopped off him, pulling your sweatpants on again.
he stood up and stepped towards you, towering over you. he tilted your face up to his, and leaned in. “we’ll see who’s laughing when i make you sit there again tonight. i’m not done with you yet.”
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chlorinecake · 9 months
Text
𓂃 watercolor eyes | park wonbin oneshot
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⚡︎ pairing: Stoner!Wonbin x Female!Reader | ⚡︎ word count: 7.8k | ⚡︎ genre: mutual pining, college au, smut (⚠︎) | ⚡︎ contains: awkward relationships, an original character + sungchan and shotaro, swearing, drug use/distribution, angst (?), mild dacryphilia, sexual tension mixed with fluff, kissing, unprotected sex while buzzed, heavy petting, oral (m. r)
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ON TOP OF countless other obligations in your life, upcoming exams were kicking your anxiety's ass with the biggest fucking boots imaginable.
All you wanted was to take the edge off, and at this point, you didn’t care what it’d take to do that.
Introducing Exhibit A: Your closest friend and roommate, Roxanne, who so conveniently happened to be a junkie.
You brought up your need for a “quick fix” (so to speak) while studying in your dorm together one afternoon. Though, she offered to get you some help from another friend of hers who you’d never met before.
“Wait, you want me to go with you?” You asked in confusion, already prepared to reject Roxanne’s proposal at the idea of personally consulting her drug dealer.
“Yes, you're coming with me… What do you think this is, Kiki’s Delivery Service?”
“No, but… I-"
“Don’t tell me you’re chickening out, ____,” she chuckled, turning the steering wheel as she trailed down a shadowy lane.
“No, I… I want this… I need this even, it’s just that…I don’t really know what to expect…”
“Then don’t expect anything,” she answered, giving you an encouraging smile that came off as more condescending, “Expectations are for pussies anyways.”
“Roxanne, I’ve never even met this guy before,” you pressed, hoping that she’d maybe let you sit outside in the car instead of actually speaking with him.
“Look, I’m close with my dealer, and as I always say, a friend of mine is a friend of yours.”
Cue your internal sigh of submission.
“Okay,” you said, straightening your posture in your seat with a feigned confidence.
“Uhhhh, are you sure with that ‘okay,’ or is it more like an ‘okay, I have more questions’ type of ‘okay’?”
“No,” you clarified, “it means what I said… I’m okay.”
“Okay,” she nodded, before giving you a brief synopsis about this friend of hers: STEM major, weed connoisseur, and art-hoe with a shy guy undercut.
Doesn’t sound anywhere near as daunting as the drug dealers on TV shows appear to be, right?
She pulled up to one of the apartment complexes a few miles from your university. It was one of the lower quality establishments, with the only oddity being how nice the vehicles parked outside the apartment divisions were, a sleek black motorcycle belonging to none other than the mysterious drug smuggler named Wonbin Park.
“Hey, take off your hood, silly, it’s rude,” Roxanne nudged, locking her car from the keys in her pocket more times than necessary.
“But… what if someone sees us?,” you whispered, walking closely beside her.
“Then I’m glad their eyes are working? Hell, I don’t fucking know what they’d want me to tell ‘em,” she shrugged, walking up to the front door.
“So are you acting like a nonchalant loser on purpose, or is this just your way of trying to calm me down?”
Roxanne laughed hysterically at your words, showcasing the sparkly pink gem decorating her upper canine teeth as she patted you on the back.
“We’re just here for weed, babe. That will help calm you down before I can.”
You had almost missed the part where she knocked as you got lost in your head, the front door suddenly opening and basking you both with a sudden warmth, contrasting with the cold evening weather.
“Roxie?,” asked the male from the doorstep that you fought with every bone in your body to avoid making eye contact with.
“Wonie?” Your friend mocked goofily, walking up to hug the boy briefly before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside, “I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend.”
“Not at all, my place is always open to you and your girlfriends,” he chirped with forced yet gentle enthusiasm.
“Uhhhh, she’s just a friend, considering how we’ve only slept together while clothed before… but thanks anyway!”
“Any time,” he replied confidently, walking up to the sink that was conveniently in his living room before re-lighting the dead bud of the joint he held gracefully between his plump lips, ashes falling from the tip before he inhaled a thick huff.
Some of the ash fell on his lower abdomen, and you were just now realizing that he didn’t have a shirt on.
Good thing you were used to the smell of pot by now, thanks to Roxanne’s inevitable habit of greening out every Friday night.
“So, what brings you ladies in today? I’d hate to break it to you, but I used my last condom just a few hours ago.”
“Yeah, we’re actually here for a different kind of pipe this time,” Roxanne answered, blinking as if trying to communicate with him to ditch the wild language.
“Oh,” he said, doe eyes widening as his mouth hung a little, his bunny teeth shining right back at you.
Stop staring at his mouth.
Stop staring at his mouth-
“I uh… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” he smiled softly, and of course you noticed because that’s where your eyes were glued the entire time, so distracted that it startled you when he reached to shake your hand.
“I’m Wonbin, but… you can call me anything you like, really.”
“It’s alright,” you returned, finally coming back to the present, “I’m ____.”
His initially confident demeanor stemmed from his assumption that you were more flamboyant like Roxanne, but he made note to be less vulgar until he could tell you warmed up to him.
Until he properly warmed up to you.
“So uh, yeah, do you want the usual, or were you thinking to try something new?” Wonbin asked casually as he leaned on the back of the sofa.
“Hmm,” Roxie hummed in thought, “yeah, my usual’s good. Just lay off the stronger stuff in the mix, though. It’s her first time.”
Something about what she said made Wonbin smile, wide and excited, peeking at you through his shaggy bangs with zero intent of hiding it.
Was he… flirting with you?
“Well, it’s my pleasure to be your first then,” he winked, getting up from the couch and heading to another room on his flat.
“You two kittens just wait here and I’ll be back with your stuff in a minute,” he claimed, which actually ended up being around an 8 minute wait while you and Roxanne went on and on about something you can’t even remember now.
The smile evaporated from Roxanne’s face as Wonbin returned to the living room while reciting the order. “You’ve got two ounces of-”
“I know the recipe, moron. You might scare my friend away if you say it out loud…,” she joked, feigning a pout as she hugged your shoulder, “so how much do you want for it, candy man?”
“It’s on the house this time,” Wonbin said, “so long as you bring me dinner tonight.”
“Fucking fat ass,” she spat, “what’re you craving?”
“Something warm,” he replied almost immediately, “with seasoned meat and a sauce… Maybe some rice, too.”
“Gotcha,” Roxie chirped as she pushed off of her knees to stand up.
Wonbin walked up to hand her the goody bag with such politeness, almost in the way that a child would give something to his big sister.
“Cool. I like eating around 7 o’clock, so you know when and where to find me.”
“Yes, through your stomach and all the way up to your greedy little heart.”
“Mhm,” he said with a satisfied hum, taking Roxanne’s spot on the couch as she walked towards the door. You and Wonbin were now sitting next to each other, his arms spread out on the back of the couch in a relaxed manner.
“Uhm, ____?”
“Oh, right! Sorry… I didn’t know we were finished,” you stammered, getting up from the couch to meet Roxanne at the door.
“Yeah, took him long enough,” she rolled her eyes, “I was starting to think he wanted us to spend the night…”
“Alright, get out of my apartment already,” he said playfully, waving a hand as if shooing you two, “and make sure to secure the bottom lock for me, I don’t feel like getting back up yet.”
“Whatever.”
Slam.
The door was closed, 50% locked, and you two were heading back down the staircase, cold air greeting you once again before you both got back in the car, driving back to your dorm room to drop off the drugs first, and then to the grocery store…
… to buy a bag of rice and a fresh pack of chicken.
“WHAT’S THAT NOISE?,” Roxanne asked with animatedly furrowed eyebrows, holding the grocery bag you two had packed Wonbin’s “dinner” in.
You ended up making a chicken roast with carrots, potatoes, gravy, and steamed rice like he asked.
“Here, hold this,” Roxanne mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear before she dropped the bag, your reflects luckily kicking in fast enough for you to catch it before the glass container could hit the concrete stair well.
“It’s as cold as a snowman’s grave out here, Wonie, open up!,” She yelled while banging on the front door, the little dream catcher that hung on the inner side jingling with her forceful hits, “Hellooooo?”
“You’re like Doordash but with the temper of FedEx,” you heard a deep voice say from behind the walls.
“But I only charge herbal fees for my services,” she added while crossing her arms.
Creek.
The door slung open, Wonbin’s muscular arms framing the entrance with a fed up look plastered on his face.
There were two people sitting behind him on the couch playing video games. A violent game, you’d assume, given the sporadic and sharp flashes of light that filled the room.
“Is there some kind of a secret password now or something?,” Roxanne asked impatiently, not as entertained my the view of Wonbin’s still shirtless body like you were.
“Oh, right… come on in ladies,” he said with a feigned smile, extending a hand to welcome you two back in, “hope you brought enough food, because I have guests.”
You followed Roxanne and Wonbin to the kitchen, where you placed the steaming bag of food on the counter before taking out the containers. That’s when Roxanne started grabbing dishes from the cabinet.
The glass plates clinked behind you as you went to search for a serving spoon in the drawer. “Hey… where are the spoons and forks?,” you asked while still looking through one of his kitchen drawers before Wonbin suddenly tapped you on the shoulder.
“I uhm… I keep the utensils in here,” he smiled shyly, just as he reached for the overhead counter to grab the silverware he kept in a box. Your breath got caught in your chest as you felt his hips nearly fuse with yours in the moment. Luckily, he couldn’t see how flustered you appeared underneath his shadow.
“Gimme that,” Roxanne giggled, snatching the box from him and taking out two large ladles, one for the rice and another for the roast.
“Gosh, that smells amazing! Can you put cheese on mine, pretty please?,” you heard one of the boys ask from the couch, peeking over his shoulder with soft eyes.
“Yes, Taro, I can put some cheese on it for you… even though I think it’s weird,” Roxanne smiled.
“Ahh, thanks man. Oh- and who’s the new girl?” He went on, placing the controller down as he was no longer interested in playing.
“Just a friend in need of a good time—” Wonbin answered, which shocked you to say the least, “—so be nice, Sungchan.”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?,” The taller boy pitched in, “but does she even talk?”
The room went quiet for a moment, the only sound being Sungchan’s clicks from the remote controller before he got gunned down by a random player.
“Dammit, Shotaro! Why’d you stop playing? Now we’re tied with the other team!!”
“Too bad, so sad, bro. I’m hungry,” he chirped, getting up from the couch to help you bring the plates to everyone.
“Woah, who’s the big plate for?” Shotaro asked with widened eyes.
“Me and Sungchan,” Roxanne said with a satisfied smile, “we’re sharing.”
“Oh… you didn’t tell me you and Sungchan were on good terms now,” you said, breaking your awkward streak of silence, just now recognizing the taller boys face from Roxanne’s phone.
She always talked about Sungchan and his “big stupid dick,” as she liked calling it.
The pair stopped being cool with each other for reasons you don’t really remember anymore, but you’d take her sudden affection towards him over the violence you witnessed during one of her texting fits the other night.
“Shhh,” she giggled, meeting Sungchan on the couch before sitting on his lap, “I hope you don’t mind me feeding you in front of your little friends… unless that makes you shy,” she pouted.
All he did was open his mouth in response, savoring the taste of the first spoon she fed him.
It was a sickeningly cute sight to be honest.
“Sick and twisted,” Shotaro said as if reading your mind.
“Cry about it,” Sungchan joked between a mouth full of saucy rice, heart swelling from the way Roxanne cooed at him.
You and Wonbin were just now making it to the living room after getting some napkins for everyone. There was room left for the two of you on the couch thanks to Roxie sitting on Sungchan’s lap, but that meant you and Wonbin would be sandwiched together in the middle.
Great.
“Come on guys, take a seat,” Roxie said before taking a bite of the food, her teeth grazing the metal fork with a loud scrap.
“God, I hate when you do that,” Sungchan sighed, tickling her sides as she laughed uncontrollably.
“Stop that, asshole, before I drop this food everywhere!”
“That’d be a shame, this chicken is so good,” Wonbin hummed with a nod, stuffing his cheeks with more of the gravy.
“____ made it,” Roxie pitched, giving you a look.
Despite how hard you tried to fight it, you were started to feel pretty awkward.
You knew it had a lot to do with Wonbin, thanks to his cripplingly annoying quirk to not put a damn shirt on.
You did eventually warm up to everyone, even pitching in on some of Sungchan’s dad jokes.
Though, the stack of empty dishes in the center of the living room table seemed more alive than your spirits right now.
The inevitable tiredness that came with staying up late without a phone in your hand started to kick in.
“Hey, I’m gonna go wash up these dishes real quick,” Wonbin said, glancing your way for reasons you almost couldn’t process between the loud laughter of Shotaro and Roxie over whatever dirty joke Sungchan told about SpongeBob and Patrick.
Did he want you to come with him? Alone?
Yes.
By now, Wonbin was no longer in the living room, having walked to the kitchen sink where he proceeded to run soapy dish water.
The scent of lemon wafted through the dimly lit space as you stepped beside him to get the dish towel.
“Sorry,” you said nervously, noticing the way he jumped as your hand grazed his arm slightly.
“It’s alright, you just surprised me,” Wonbin smiled, drying his hands before walking over to the other side of the counter, opening a plastic bag filled with what appeared to be blunt wraps and another bag filled with fluffy green.
“You just leave that stuff out on your counter?,” You asked, voice kind of quiet over the running water.
“Mhm…,” he started, “it’s not like the cops are just gonna raid my house randomly… unless… you were to say something,” he winked, putting a filler along the inside of the wrap before sprinkling in some herb, then tucking it tightly.
“Your secrets safe with me,” you said, the faucet squeaking as you turned the water off.
“____.”
“Yes?” You asked in confusion almost… he was already starting to use your name so normally.
“Pass me that lighter from over there,” he pointed before sticking his tongue out, licking the inner side on the blunt wrap to seal it.
His pretty tongue glistened underneath the kitchen lights, captivating you once again.
Fuck, stop staring, you internally swore at yourself.
He put the blunt between his lips, waiting for you to light the tip. “Stop moving, silly,” you giggled, holding his face in place with your other hand to keep him still as he playfully moved his head around to give you a hard time.
A tiny giggle erupted from his throat, too, making your smile linger for a little longer before he bid his thanks, inhaling a huff of the smoke and exhaling it through his nose.
“Hmmm,” he hummed as he cleared his throat. By now you were leaning against the sink with no intention of washing the dishes any time soon. No intention of leaving the kitchen, either.
“C’mere,” he offered, reaching for your chin in the same way you did to him earlier before inching closer to your face.
“Wonbin-”
“Just part your lips for me, okay?” He asked in a light voice, “I want you to try it with me.”
You nodded at his words, hesitantly parting your lips as he slowly set the blunt between the opening you allowed for him.
“Okay now seal your lips,” he said, licking his own, “and inhale… slowly.”
You obeyed his words, taking a steady breath in as the warm and cloudy smoke filled your mouth… then your stomach… then your senses.
“Oh, shit,” you cursed, coughing at the way the smoke hit the back of your throat, to which Wonbin only laughed at your reaction.
“Good job, newbie,” he teased, running you a glass of water before passing it to you, your teary eyes staring back at him in a mix of embarrassment, regret, and intrigue.
“How was hitting it,” he asked, pearly eyes staring back at you.
“Just as bad as I thought,” you admitted.
“Yeah… they effects will start kicking in pretty fast, too,” he chuckled, proceeding to take a huff from the same blunt. “But,” he started, voice falling to an alto, “you know that wasn’t free, right?”
“Excuse me?” You asked, watching as he lazily cradled the joint in his two fingers.
“I only do favors for Roxie because we’re chill like that…,” he paused, biting his lip derisively as he tilted his head, “I hardly know you, though.”
You didn’t even bother checking your pockets because you knew you came empty handed.
“Aww, what is it, baby?,” he cooed, turning your chin to face him again as he took another huff from the joint.
“I didn’t bring any cash with me, unfortunately,” you replied with a halfhearted expression, already feeling yourself get dizzy.
He noticed the way you began to tear up even more from the smoke he was now gently blowing in your face.
“You’re eyes look pretty right now,” he smiled, staring way harder than he should’ve, “how do you feel?”
All of a sudden your core starting to heat up, making your legs feel as though you were merely hovering over the floor. You didn’t feel grounded anymore because you were overcome with a feeling of light.
“A little warm,” you started dryly, “but like… numb and euphoric at the same time.”
“In here?” He asked, placing a hand on your upper stomach, resting dangerously close to your tits.
“No…. It’s uh… a bit lower,” you said, reaching for his wrist before pulling his hand away from you.
That’s when you caught a glimpse of a colorful splash decorating his wrist. “That’s pretty,” you smiled, adoring the tattoo from afar.
“You think so?” He asked sarcastically before whispering in your ear, “too bad compliments won’t pay my bills.”
You sighed at his words, watching as he braced his body weight on the counter before your right hand found a mind of it’s own, reaching out to trace a line up his defined abdomen.
“Then allow me to repay you in another way,” you offered, poking his flesh with your nail a bit, “you like my cooking, don’t you?”
“Very much so, yes. But you could try pleasing me somewhere else… ‘A bit lower,’ like you said,” he whispered seductively, eyes in a daze as he guided your hand by your delicate wrist to the center of his belt buckle, a line of hair leading to the bulge buried behind his baggy jeans.
A thick vein trailed from his thumb to his forearm before his grip left your wrist.
“Wanna take a closer look?” He offered, drawing your attention back to the colorful spot on his skin even though your first mind thought he was talking about something naughtier.
“Sure,” you answered quietly, taking his hand again to examine the design, “a butterfly?”
“A moth, actually… it’s a little more masculine if you ask me,” he added, the shadow of a proud smile ghosting over his lips.
“But it has watercolored eyes,” you pointed out.
“True… So it’s like.. more ambiguous I guess?”
“Maybe… or it could just be a beautiful man,” you voiced, stroking over his skin with the pad of your thumb.
You liked this.
The look of his skin, but more so the way it felt.
The way touching him made you feel.
“Uhmmmm, guys?,” Shotaro cried out from the living room, the energy in his voice breaking the stillness of the moment, “I’m pretty sure Sungchan and Roxie are about to start fucking each other in a few seconds, and I could use a little help in here!”
You and Wonbin made eye contact at Shotaro’s words, the same thought filling both your heads:
“What?”
“Just get in here, quickly! They’re taking each others clothes off!!!”
“FUCK, MY STOMACH still hurts like a bitch from laughing so hard yesterday night,” Roxie sighed, cheeks a flushed hue either from the three shots of brandy she just guzzled or the three comforters she was wrapped in on her side of your shared room.
“Yeah… I had a great time hanging out with everyone,” you said, only half-present as other thoughts floated around in your mind.
Thoughts about when you would get to see Wonbin again?
What you two would even do?
How Roxanne would react if she knew Wonbin had been stuck in your mind like gum on a-
“What the hell are you thinking about?”
Oh shit.
“Uhm… Nothing, why?”
“It’s gotta be something,” Roxie pressed, staring at you from across the room through her false eyelashes, “you were moaning in your sleep last night with that same look on your face.”
Wow. She was quite a fast talker for someone so tipsy.
“I was?”
“Mhm,” she smirked cheekily, trailing a finger along the knitted seam of her bed sheet.
“Tell me who you were thinking about… I’ll know if you’re lying, too,” she pressed.
“I was just… gosh, why is that making me so flustered,” you sighed, hiding your face in your pillows.
“C’mon, spit it out, ____!”
“I was thinking about Wonie, okay?,” you finally admitted, hoping it would make her shut up.
“Hmm…,” she started with a satisfied smirk, “you’ve already starting calling him by a nickname, I see… what’s up with that?”
“Nothing at all,” you smiled aggressively, watching as she spread herself out on the mattress like a star fish, “would you like me to call Sungchan over to keep you company while I’m out?”
“He’s already on his way over, silly,” she smiled, flexing her fingers around nothing, “wait, where are you going, anyway?”
“Nowhere special… probably just gonna talk a walk around campus. But don’t worry, I’ll wait for your boyfriend to get here before I leave.”
She pouted at your words, lower lip poking out like a baby, “Aww… stupid… big dick Sungie’s my boyfriend… ehehe…”
SUNGCHAN SHOWED UP shortly after you managed to get Roxanne back to bed. Praying that they wouldn’t end up fucking in your bedroom while you were gone, you put on a jacket with hopes of taking that walk to clear your head, even though now you simply hit a joint to calm your nerves.
That’s when you heard a pair of footsteps approaching from outside your door, just as you were about to zip up your winter boots.
Knock, knock, knock.
A a warm feeling erupted in your stomach, making your fingers freeze at your ankles.
Standing up to peek through the door-hole, you saw Wonbin’s plump lips first, before his bright brown eyes stared back at you.
Shit, why was he here?
“Hey, I can hear you breathing from behind the door… well, whoever you are,” he giggled, which made you giggle a bit too.
There’s no way you were gonna get out of this now, but you still counted down from ten before opening the door.
“Hi,” you smiled, letting him in, “don’t know how you got on campus, let alone to my dorm room, but okay.”
“I’m friends with Roxie, remember?”
“Yes, but I don’t remember you visiting here before… like, ever.”
Even if he had, it’s not like you’d be able to forget a face or presence like his.
“Nice shirt, by the way,” you teased, poking him in the stomach to which he smiled.
That terribly cute smile of his.
“Yeah I uh… wear them sometimes,” he replied, adjusting the beanie he wore before speaking again, “Where is she, anyway?”
“Pretending to be asleep so I can cuddle with her while she sucks on me… well… not there but… nevermind,” Sungchan interupted, walking from the room with now disheveled hair.
“Hell, I left for like three seconds, what happened,” you asked, observing the fresh purple bruise on Sungchan’s neck.
“Roxie gets unbelievably horny whenever she’s drunk for some reason, and I refuse to do anything with her when half of her mind is on fucking mars,” he sighed, going to the fridge and pulling out a can of soda.
“She’s lucky I let her do this much… Wait- I thought you said you weren’t coming?” Sungchan said to Wonbin with a suspicious look.
So Wonbin was invited to your place. How fun.
“Ahh, I changed my mind out of boredom...”
“Right,” Sungchan nodded while walking to the front door, “I’ve gotta go get a lighter from my truck, but I’ll be back if Roxie asks for me.”
“Hey uh, me and ____ can go get it for you if you want,” Wonbin offered, flashing you a look.
“Really, I mean I parked pretty far away, but-”
“It’s fine, really, I saw where your truck on my way here.“
“____?” Sungchan said your name as if searching for your approval, to which you nodded which a humble, “Yeah, I don’t mind.”
“Alright then, go ahead. But take your time though so you don’t slip and break your asses…”
WONBIN LOOKED IN the roof compartment of Sungchan’s truck, just as the lighter fell down, slipping between the small crack in the seat.
“Shit,” he cursed upon trying to reach for it, “my hands too big to get it.”
“Hey, I can try getting it for you,” you offered, watching as he made room for you to take his place in the vehicle.
The drawstring of your underwear clinging to your hips as your shirt fell down your waist with gravity.
“Are you wearing a thong?” Wonbin asked, cold index finger hooking with the thin strap of your panties before pulling back and releasing it with a snap.
“Ahh, what the hell, Won!,” You yelped, retreating from the seat to swat his hands from you, “you’re supposed to be helping me!”
“No, we’re supposed to be helping Sungchan. Now get back to work,” he order you playfully, pointing back down to where the lighter fell.
You shook your head, bending back over in an attempt to retrieve the lighter once again.
He was only teasing you because he wanted to see more of your personality.
He couldn’t say that things were moving fast between you thanks to the inevitably awkward grounds your first impression of each other was cultivated upon, but he still wanted to get past the shy stage.
Skip all of the a baby steps and just start running with you.
Weakened grunts fell from your lips as you desperately fished for the lighter, your hips looking a mere second from bursting through your tight jeans given the position you were in.
“Shit,” Wonbin cursed under his breath, feeling a sense of warmth grow on his cheeks as he darted his eyes away from you.
“Oh,” you said with a muffled sounding voice.
“Um, y-yeah? What’s up?” He stuttered, still looking off into the distance.
“I’ve got the lighter… And some spare change,” you chirped, clasping the findings in your hand before reaching a foot down cautiously.
“Isn’t that stealing?” Wonbin teased, finally looking back to only see your foot slipping on the wet condensation from the truck’s running board.
“____, watch your step!” He called out with a slightly raised voice, his hands finding your waist to protect your fall, which only led to you both tumbling down together.
A strained groan erupted from Wonbin’s throat as his back hit the cold hard ground first, your body weight falling onto his center as your hands hit the gravel, slightly scuffing your skin.
You hadn’t even realized that your eyes were closed the entire time until you finally opened them, the coins you held being scattered about as Wonbin’s wide bunny eyes scanned you with shock.
His arms framed his head, nose a little red from the weather and a sprinkle of snowflakes dusting his black beanie.
“Are you…are you okay?,” he started, voice trailing off as it finally clicked in his mind that you were straddling him on the ground, essentially in public.
He couldn’t pin a finger on what it was about you that made him feel all shy like this, especially whenever he wasn’t buzzed.
“I-I’m… uh… I’m fine,” you stuttered, freeing him of your body weight and extending a hand to help him up.
“Thank you,” he huffed, a puff of cold air escaping his mouth before circling around your warm bodies, “I told you to watch your step….”
“Hey, it’s not my fault that those stupid coins distracted me,” you shivered, just now feeling the effects of the weather as goosebumps sprouted on your skin, “At least I got the lighter, though!”
Wonbin chuckled, both at your enthusiastic words and the uncanniness of this moment, taking off his beanie and adjusting it over your head before closing the door to Sungchan’s truck, pulling you close to him by the shoulder.
“Alright… let’s get back inside before we both freeze to death.”
AFTER GOING BACK inside, Sungchan had somehow managed to get Roxie out of bed, the four of you sitting on the couch while watching a random movie till midnight.
It all brought you a strange sense of déjà vu. You and Wonbin sitting awkwardly together while Roxie and her Sungchan sat like Siamese twins. The only thing missing, aside from some good home cooked food, was Shotaro’s infectious smile and a recreational drug in your system.
A soul booster.
You had gotten lost in your thoughts again, not even realizing when Roxie kissed Sungchan goodnight before he headed home.
Nor when Wonbin pretended to be sleep so no one would wake him as you slept peacefully on his shoulder.
Nor how he left your side once Roxie went to her room to sleep, reaching for the dust-ridden acoustic guitar hiding in a corner of your loft after a long forgotten ex-roommate left it behind as a “farewell” gift.
Nor the warm and woody melody he started to play from the other end of the couch, the gentle hums from his throat luring your busy mind from its slumber.
Your eyes opened with lazy blinks, vision slowly keening in on the lit joint that hung from his mouth, the sound of his fingers sliding against the fretboard and strings sending shivers down your spine.
Or maybe that had more to do with the winter air thrumming through your dorm room's cheap windows.
From the look outside, you’d guess it was sometime around 1am.
The stars were sparkling in the sky and the world beneath almost dead quiet.
“Oh- sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Wonbin said in a half-whisper, noticing the way you were glancing at him before taking the blunt from his mouth.
“Oh, no… it’s okay, I was just… I didn’t mind…” your words trailed off to a mumble as you sat up a little straighter on the couch, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “What song was that? It sounded really pretty from what I heard.”
“Yesterday… by the Beatles,” he smiled, getting up to set the guitar back in its original place of abandonment, “it would’ve sounded even better though if I had a pick with me.”
He took another huff from the blunt, exhaling through his nose in a familiar manner as he offered it to you, “Want some?”
“Sure,” you shrugged, taking the blunt from his hand before inhaling the herb yourself, though, it was slightly different from the one you had in Wonbin’s kitchen the other night.
“It’s some of Sungchan’s pot,” he said in a husk voice as if reading your mind, “Don’t go too crazy though, ‘cause his shit’s pretty strong.”
He peeked at you through his wavy bangs, waiting for a cough from you that never came.
“Are you buzzed yet?” You asked after taking another huff or two yourself, playing with the smoke in your mouth before blowing it out slowly.
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “don’t know how I managed to play a full song, but... yeah... I'm trashed.”
“It must be a talent, I guess,” you hummed at his words, just now noticing the lit candles sitting at random areas in the kitchen and living room.
Good thing, because it helped to drown out the scent of marijuana.
“What else are you good at doing while high?”
His tongue clicked at the roof of his mouth as a subtle yet unmistakable smirk creeped on his face, perfectly matching the rosy hue that began to stain his cheeks.
“You thought of something dirty, didn’t you?”
“Maybe…” he chuckled, widening the distance between his legs a bit as he sat.
Was he… teasing you?
Your eyes fell down to the blunt he placed on the ashtray beside the table, it’s lit bud ceasing with a quiet hiss.
“I’m guessing that wasn’t free either, huh?” You joked, shaking your head at yesterday's memory.
“Nope,” he smiled, “but… you still haven’t returned the favor from your first hit, so I won’t be too mean for now.”
Of course he’d bring that up again.
Right here, right now as you sat mere inches in distance from each other, both buzzed out of your minds.
“And if you were to be mean,” you started hesitantly, biting your lower lip before continuing, “what would that look like?”
He thought on your words carefully before answering, “Well, I doubt it’ll ever come to that anyway, so don't worry about it.”
“Oh, and is it the weed making you confident all of a sudden?”
“No, just the simple fact that you’ll pretty much do anything I tell you to.”
You scoffed, “That’s crazy talk.”
“Is it?“ he pressed, inching closer to you. "Kiss me,” he said, lips just a gentle wind's push from touching yours.
You didn’t budge, but your heart beat escalated all the same.
“Cute,” he smirked, his large hand finding the length of your neck, gliding up to your jawline as his thumb toyed with your lower lip. “I can see it all over your face that you want me, ____.”
“Then why are you asking for it?,” you teased.
“Because I wanted to hear you say it first… even though I already knew you’d let me do this,” he whispered, closing the space between you with a kiss, his warm mouth engulfing yours as the scent of his woody cologne filled your senses.
His other hand found your lower back, pulling you impossibly close to him as the sound of both your hearts beating and his needy grunts consumed you.
Much like the watercolor moth on his wrist, Wonbin’s gentle and vibrant masculinity couldn’t get any more precious in this moment.
This is exactly what he was looking forward to, whether he decided to guise it under the façade of a favor or be completely straight up with you, he finally got you right where you wanted.
Your fingers tangled in his hair as you tugged a bit, desperate to hear more of his pretty sounds before the shadow of a smile wavered over Wonbin’s face at your actions, up until he felt your knee bump his hard-on through his pants, causing him to hiss.
“You’re being rough with me,” he said in between kissing your mouth, his hot and thick tongue darting past your lips as the kiss become messier.
Louder.
“And?” You asked, pulling away from his lips before leaving a trail of wetness down his neck, paying extra attention to a spot that made him twitch in his seat.
“And it’s so fucking hot,” he almost moaned when your teeth grazed his skin, his back meeting the couch arm as you subconsciously grinded your hips against his pants, straddling him.
“Is this how you wanted me earlier,” you said, stopping your movements, “when we were outside in the cold?”
By now his shirt was off and your fingers unbuckling his belt with gentle clinking sounds from the metal.
“No,” he said in an impossibly deep voice, looking dead at you as he spoke, “My first mind wanted to fuck you silly in the backseat… but I couldn’t to that to you.”
You giggled at his choice of words given how high you were, shimmying his pants down a bit further before halting at the waistband of his boxers, palming him gently through the fabric.
“Why not?” You asked in a soft voice, contrasting with the fierce grip you had on his clothed shaft.
“Because... even though you’re being an impossible tease right now, I felt like you deserved better than to be fucked in your best friends boyfriend's truck,” he said with a shaky voice, gripping at the couch to contain himself.
You appreciated his consideration in your heart, but didn’t wanna say anything out loud, especially not while your hands were on him like this.
And thank God for these thick curtains, otherwise the whole world would’ve seen how red his throbbing tip looked after finally being freed from the restrictions of his boxers.
You started at the base of his length before gliding upwards, spitting on the head that was already leaking a bit of his early release.
You started to pump him slowly, pearly white precum standing out as it mixed with your clear spit like watercolor.
“Use your mouth for me,” he almost begged, eyes falling victim to a blurry haze as his knuckles turned white with his grip on the cushions.
You teased him a bit by letting your warm breath ghost over his tip, eliciting a groan from him as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.
The desperation inside of him only grew from here as your warm and wet lips finally wrapped around him.
You hollowed your cheeks a bit, hands resting at either side of his hips as you began using your tongue to help you take him inch by inch.
“Mmm, feels so fucking good, baby,” he said with a strained voice, his hands finding your head before his thumbs grazed your lips, one of them prying to squeeze itself into your mouth with his already thick cock.
The sight alone was enough to make him buss, so he threw his head back, biting his lip harshly to contain his sounds.
You hummed against his dick, almost feeling it in your chest once his hands pushed your head down further.
He just couldn’t deal with your teasing anymore, wanting to feel you more than he could begin to explain.
He bucked his hips upwards, rutting into your mouth like a bunny in heat. “Aww, fuck,” he cursed, watching the way your eyes glazed with tears.
He always managed to see you crying one way or another, and he loved it every single time.
Your fingernails dug into his sides as the sound of your gagging became hard to miss. He released your head with a sigh, panting as both of your faces burned with heat.
He didn’t expect you to start pumping him again though as soon as your mouth left his cock, but you knew he’d end up missing your warmth in seconds anyways.
“I wasn’t trying to be mean when I did that, by the way,” he sighed, biting his lip as you looked back at him with moist eyelashes, “I just couldn’t hold bac- nghhh~.”
A broken moan escaped his mouth once your hands found his balls, gently cradling them in your hands while alternating with pressures, your other hand still stroking him.
“I’m doing quite the favor for you, Wonbin,” you said with a rasp voice, your throat a bit sore from his actions on top of the smoke you huffed earlier, but he figured it made you sound hotter anyway. “Are you sure I’m not overdoing it?”
“Mmm… no, p-please don’t stop, baby,” he whimpered shamelessly, screwing his eyebrows tightly.
You felt yourself clench around nothing at the nickname, and judging from the way his face changed, you’d bet he noticed.
By now, he could hardly keep still, the muscles in his stomach flexing just as you felt his balls tighten, just as he was finished, chest heaving with need as you rode out his high.
That's when you started to take off your jeans, tossing them in the corner somewhere as he practically drooled at the sight of you in just a baggy top and panties, a dark spot forming at the center of your core where your arousal started to leak through.
“____,” he paused you, bringing you into his lap, your warm core sitting right atop his aching hardness, “you don’t have to go this far if you don’t want to.”
“Well maybe this isn’t just about me owing you anymore,” you whispered, kissing him on the corner of his mouth, “what if I want this?”
His cock stimulated you through your panties as he thought on your words, subconsciously rocking your hips back and forth.
“Then I’ll let you have your way with me…” he said with a rasp whisper, kissing up your neck as one of his hands massaged your tits, his other hand sneaking past your underwear to find your soaking wet clit, rubbing it slowly but with such a pressure that your fingers clung to his broad shoulders.
“I want you to make me feel like I’m falling apart,” he groaned against your skin, spreading your slick all over your aching pussy lips, “I want you to ruin me.”
You didn't waste any time with aligning him at your entrance, sliding down with ease most of the way given how wet you were.
He groaned as your tight walls fully consumed him.
“Fuck~,” you whined, feeling euphorically full as he started thrusting into you, hands gripping at your back as he became overstimulated inside you.
The drugs must've made you feel extra sensitive, especially with the way his tip fucked against your g-spot. You looked into his teary eyes, stoking his face as you helped to bounce with his movements, lewd sounds bouncing off of the walls.
“You’re being so fucking good for me, baby, just like that," he moaned as you clenched around him, too high to give a damn about filling you up raw with thick spurts of his cum.
“Wonie,” you whimpered, feeling as his hands roamed all over your climaxing body.
You felt every part of him in every part of you, and to say the least, it was worth all the awkward moments it took to get here.
THE NEXT MORNING, you woke up with your head resting on Wonbin’s chest, his messy hair spread about his head as you felt his breath faintly on your head. You probably looked like two babies with the way you were cuddling each other under the blanket.
It was a sickeningly cute sight, one might say.
“Sick and twisted,” you heard Shotaro say in the back of your mind, just as Wonbin groaned beneath you with a cat-like yawn.
“I still feel high,” was the first thing he said, making you giggle a little more than necessary before looking him in the face, the effects of your night together ever-present on his face.
“I feel…good,” you smiled.
“Good?”
“Yeah,” you hummed back, peeling yourself from his body as you blinked the tiredness from your eyes.
“You can keep a secret, right?” He asked hesitantly, voice barely audible given how quietly he spoke.
“With my whole life,” you answered, now making eye contact with him which was surprisingly way easier to do than a day ago.
He found your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “We should do each other favors more often… but… maybe not call it that.”
Was he initiating a sexual relationship with you?
Maybe something more?
“Well…” you started curiously, “what would you wanna call it instead, then?”
A grin peeped on his face that quickly softened when he licked his lips, giving your hand a squeeze once again before parting his lips to speak. “Maybe-”
“Fuck,” Roxanne sighed with annoyance, “you horny ducks didn’t blow my candles out last night… now the wax is no good,” she sulked.
“Oh, s-sorry about that, Roxie, we were smoking and it helped the smell,” Wonbin answered first.
“… wait, did you just call us horny ducks?” You asked with a mix of confusion, offense, and realization.
She heard you two.
Hell, of course she did.
“What? You think I didn’t hear Wonbin and his vocal ass practically singing as you did… whatever you did to him…?,” She rambled on, washing her hands in the sink before pulling some from produce from the fridge.
“Oh my God,” Wonbin cringed at himself, covering his face with his hands, though his ears were clearly burning red now.
“The blanket… you brought it in here, didn’t you,” you asked her, just now noticing that it was one she kept at the end of her bed.
“Yep! You’re welcome, freaks,” she chirped through a mouthful of raw celery, drawing your attention to the knife and cutting board she handled, “I’m gonna need your help soon though, ____. We're cooking for a mini get-together later with Taro and Sungchan.”
You hummed at her words, folding up the blanket while thankful that despite how high you two were last night, you managed to put your clothes back on before the sun came up.
“You guys should get cleaned up first, too, by the way,” she said, side-eyeing you as she diced a few green onions. “And preferably not at the same time, please... I’ve heard enough moans for the rest of this week, thanks to you two.”
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⚡︎ a/n: I just wanna say thank you to everyone who read this goofy lil piece I wrote !! It's been a while since I wrote something that wasn't requesting, and I had so much fun getting back in my creative mode again !! Hopefully you guys enjoyed it as much as I did huhu !!
📍 check out my NEW RIIZE masterlist
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star-har · 2 months
Text
fading
it’s your birthday.
gojo’s been dreading it.
it had felt like carrying a heavy weight— a boulder that grows in size as the days passed by, until the calendar finally marked what he’s been fearing.
when he wakes up on your morning, he can’t get out of bed. doesn’t see a reason to.
it’s raining, loud and relentless. the drops patter against his windows, almost somber and melancholy and angry— as if the world itself is mourning your loss.
he doesn’t blame it. the world should be mourning, now that its one shining light and been burned out.
it’s late afternoon when he clambers from his bed, bounding to the kitchen to make his usual coffee; he used to make two. yours would be simple— coffee, milk and sugar. a complete contrast to his own, filled with syrups and chocolate and anything sweet his hands could find.
he would cringe in disgust as you sipped at it, wondering just how you drank yours such bitterly.
he only makes one cup now.
with the exception of the morning he’d woken up from a dream with you. he’d sauntered off to make your cup, assuming you were in the bathroom, and it was midday that it had dawned on him— you were only a dream.
your cat, mochi, is curled up on the couch, pawing aimlessly at where you usually loved to sit.
it’s the perfect view, you’d like to say as you scratched mochi’s belly, the sky looks beautiful from here.
she knows what day it is too. gojo had caught her waiting by the door as your birthday lingered nearer, waiting for your nonexistent arrival.
‘she’s not coming back, damn it,’ gojo would mutter as she pawed at the door. but the stubborn cat would return back to her post everyday without fail.
he decides to stand out on the balcony, despite the thundering rain. he’s remembering the way you’d hug his waist from behind and pepper kisses into his skin as you two watched the sun disappear, being replaced by the moon.
he grinds his teeth and throws his coffee on the floor, the glass shattering and scattering.
you’re everywhere— and it’s almost as if it’s amplified today. the one day gojo already feels like he shouldn’t be here. not without you by his side.
he curses and closes the balcony door, sweeping the glass so your cat won’t hurt herself. you’d kill him if she ever did.
he shrugs on his coat and leaves his flat after, stopping by a flower shop that you’d love to visit.
each, and every time, you’d pause by the pretty, pink lilies. with gentle fingers, you would caress their stems and sniff their fragrance— that beautiful smile always staining your mouth.
he sees them today. they’re beautiful, dainty. but the muted pink is replaced by a brighter one, full of life and colour and beauty.
as if they were a reincarnation of you. the love of his life given form again.
he picks them up with agile hands like you’d always do, making his way to the cashier.
the lady at the register seems surprised to see him there. “gojo, dear?” she says, thin lips pursing with a smile. “it’s been so long, sweetie.”
he hadn’t really had the courage to step into this shop when you passed last year— this has been his first time in a very long while.
“i’ve been busy, mrs. murphy.” he says the words softly but can hardly find it in himself to muster up a smile.
she seems to understand because she doesn’t pry and lets gojo leave with no more question. he’s grateful.
he places them in his car with the same gentleness you’d have, and reverses out of the parking lot.
your grave is a knife in his chest. a sharp stab that hurts and is recurring and painful because seeing it makes it so much more real than gojo thought it would.
as if all those months of reaching to your side of the bed to be met with cold emptiness hadn’t been because you were gone to use the washroom or to brew late night tea.
you were gone. you are gone. gojo can’t do anything about it.
he cries. he hasn’t cried since your funeral. he drops to your grave— polished with no rust because he’d paid monument care a hefty price to maintain your resting place. it only makes sense— for your grave to be as beautiful as you.
he places the flowers on the grass, tucking it into the mud so the wind doesn’t carry them away.
his tears mix with the rain, still thrumming down on him hard.
the rain continues as he spends hours there. wordless, quiet, staring with you as the sky turns pink and then dark blue.
he leaves before he can cry again and when he comes home, gojo pads off into your library. he hasn’t been there since you left him, but it’s a sudden urge— like he needs to feel you again in anyway he can.
mochi’s already there, scratching at the door, meows woeful.
he twists the door handle, and with a deep, shuddering breath, pushes in.
flowers. vanilla. love. your smell hugs him so tightly and gojo has never felt so warm. your embrace only tightens as he slips further into your library, fingers tracing shelves as mochi purrs after him, her paws scratching the wooden floorboards.
he stops by your window seat, heart breaking a little as he sees the book you’d been reading before you died. a classic— pride and prejudice.
he drops onto the seat and picks it up, mochi following in his wake. the fat, ginger cat curls up in his lap— he knows mochi is pretending. hoping he’ll give her the same feeling you used to.
in truth, no one can. your presence is one no one can replace nor match.
she meows in his lap, mourning. sad.
“I miss her too, mochi,” gojo says and pats the cat on its head.
the two sit there, long into the night, as gojo reads where you’d left off. you’d do this a lot, have mochi and gojo huddle around you as you read aloud to them.
he wishes he could remember how you sound. your voice had been a comforting melody to his ears, something that never failed to ease gojo’s pain away.
but as the days ticked by, his memory had grown to lose it.
had grown to lose nearly everything about you. your eyes, your smile, your singing. everything.
gojo cries again. he can’t help it. no matter how hard he grinds his teeth or how strong he fists his hands. he doesn’t try to stop the flooding, either. he needs this. needs a good cry to remember you and miss you.
only when mochi has gone to sleep in his lap and gojo reaches the final page to your story, closing his eyes, does he feel it.
a soft brush of wind.
the rain had stopped, being replaced by a humid and quiet night. odd for the wind to be out. but he feels it, nonetheless.
feels a breeze brush past his cheek, wisp through his hair and ruffle mochi’s fur.
he feels you. your warm embrace, your soft touch. and everything in gojo’s body calms. his thoughts quieten, his heart thrums steadily, his tears dry.
it’s you— he knows it. he’s never believed in an afterlife or anything alike it, but you could make him believe in everything and anything.
it’s you. your love, your touch, your kiss.
you engulf him with a hug that feels so natural and beautiful and gojo finds that this is peace. this is what he lives for— remnants of you and your love lingering in unexpected places and unforeseen ways.
you were always like that, in a sense. unpredictable and so, so peaceful.
gojo falls asleep soon, to the hum of your love and your whisper on the wind. and he finds it’s the best sleep he’s had in a while.
———
did I cry 10 times while writing this? yes. I hate angst. but oh how I loooooveee it.
I can never bring myself to right angst because I always end up making the ending a happy one but today I sat down and was like I need a good cry and I threw up this.
i hope it made u sad as much as it made me sad… <3
kisses and lots of love,
har xx
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usedtobecooler · 10 months
Text
it’s simple and it goes like this | steve harrington x reader
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a/n: thank you in advance to anybody who reads this little labour of love, i’ve had such a great time writing this one and i’m so proud of the finished outcome. title from i’m in love with you by the 1975. 6.1k words.
tw: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MINORS DNI, reader uses she/her pronouns and has female anatomy, piv sex, oral f receiving, creampie, soft sex, dirty talk. intoxicated characters, admission of feelings, angst and fluff. characters ages are around mid-late twenties.
summary: turning down a ride from your roommate and brotherly figure, eddie munson, in favor of staying behind at a christmas party ends in you finding an unexpected escape in steve harrington. a drive home and copious amounts of flirting later, the night unfolds in passion and letting out unspoken feelings, leaving you to grapple with the consequences of the choices made.
Staying behind at Jon and Nancy’s Christmas party had been a mistake, and only now, inhaling nicotine into your lungs without a clue on how to get back home, did you realize the weight of this mistake and how badly you wished you could rewind to an hour prior when you had a guaranteed ride.
Eddie offered you a ride home when he was heading out, which you declined immediately. His girl, Heather, really wasn’t overly keen on you, and would do anything to make the journey home as painfully awkward as possible.
You and Eddie had lived together for a few years now, the bond between you both knitting together so tightly, transcending more than just shared rent and somebody to talk to at night. He became your confidant, and you his, finding comfort in each other in a way that could only be described as a sibling bond. As much as you loved him, would do anything for him, he wasn’t for you, and you weren’t for him.
Eddie was just trying to look out for you tonight, be protective in that typical brotherly way, and make sure you got home in one piece.
You mentally kick yourself for being a moron and placing your discomfort at sharing a closed space with his girlfriend above your safety.
Standing outside as the rain starts to pelt down and seep into your skin, you’re regretting your decision. Heather was an ass, but dealing with her for a twenty minute car journey would’ve been favorable over standing outside in freezing temperatures, getting soaked to the bone.
You stub out what’s left of your barely lit cigarette, crushing it under the heavy weight of your Docs. You scan the deserted street for any sign of life, only for whatever forces that are in charge to offer you some form of rectitude — Steve Harrington’s car hums in the distance, lights illuminating the otherwise empty road.
The Beemer rolls up, Steve’s arm flexing as he rolls down the window, “Need a ride?”
Steve’s eyes are hazy, a flash of mischief shining in the dark honey hues — he’d spent the majority of the party with Eddie, the pair of them suddenly the best of friends after years of teenage hatred. He’s so high, you can smell it on his expensive jacket. 
Eddie’s disappointed face flashes through your mind, but the heavy material of your own jacket clings to your body, soaked through from the pelting rain. Fuck what Eddie would think, getting in Steve Harrington’s car beats whatever was going on out here.
“Yeah, thanks,” you mumble, a sharp little smile on your face as you round the car, sliding into the passenger seat. The door slams shut and you’re suddenly cocooned in familiar scents of leather and Steve’s cedarwood cologne. It’s painfully comforting.
The engine roars to life once more, and Steve makes off down the street without another thought. You pretend not to notice how his eyes hardly leave your soaked frame as you drive on.
The car purrs as you drive down the quiet streets, the unspoken tension between you both sizzling as Iron Maiden plays softly from the speakers. Eddie really made sure Steve saw all parts of him when they began hanging out, and Steve took to Eddie’s music tastes painfully quickly. 
“What’s the story then, princess?” Steve grins, finally breaking the silence, “Turning down a ride with Eddie for a nicotine break was a little silly. It’s freezing out there, you’d have caught your death if I hadn’t shown up.”
“My knight in shining armor,” you deadpan, sighing quietly and cringing when you catch yourself being a little rude, “sorry, uh. I didn’t wanna be a third wheel, Heather and I, we don’t get along at all.”
Steve chuckles quietly, “She’s a bitch.” 
“She’s such a bitch,” you agree with enthusiasm, finally turning slightly in your seat to face Steve properly, “I dunno what the hell Eddie sees in her.”
“Big boobs,” Steve shrugs, making a face when you hum in disappointment under your breath, “fair point, though. Can’t blame you for wanting to avoid that situation. Still, I can’t believe he left you there like that.”
There’s a beat of silence, your cheeks flushing hot. Was Steve being protective?
“I saw you dodging advances from a certain somebody tonight,” Steve wiggles his brows, cutting the tension quickly, “what’s the deal? He not doing it for you anymore?” 
You groan, rolling your eyes as you slump back into your seat, “I’m not in the mood for Brad’s games, y’know? He’s so hot and cold.” 
“Games, huh?” Steve grins, eyes landing on you for a moment, flirty and devastatingly attractive, “Maybe you’ve just not found somebody yet who plays the right ones.” 
You flush hot, heart practically beating out of your chest, because this is clearly the weed talking. Steve hadn’t flirted with you since that one time in sophomore year, when you’d come back from Summer break and had blossomed enough for the one and only The Hair to find you worthy of his time.
“Smooth, Harrington,” you choke out eventually, spluttering on your own saliva as you struggle to get the words out, “your list of admirers is endless, do you use that line on all the girls?” 
“Well, maybe I’m looking for somebody who can keep up.” Steve passes a lingering glance over your body, only to look away and avert his eyes back to the road before you can say anything further.
Over the years you had known him, you and Steve had shared stolen glances and cryptic smiles. Gravitating towards each other in Eddie’s absence, but never taking that next step. Steve had a list of conquests, and it pained you to admit every last one hurt to watch – somehow it pained you more to admit how pleased you’d become when each of them left just as fast.
You both knew that these were dangerous waters to tread, how protective Eddie could be over you was enough to have Steve keeping you at arms length, his respect for Eddie was too great to push it further. Yet here you were once again, sharing a confined space and feeling an aura of comfortability that couldn’t just be ignored until it went away.
The rest of the journey passes in silence, and all too soon Steve is pulling onto the dirt track towards the trailer you and Eddie share. The place is still in darkness, and you have to suppress an eye roll – Eddie was hardly ever home overnight now, too used to shacking up with Heather in her apartment in town.
Steve cuts the engine, slapping a hand down on his jean clad thigh, “I’ll walk you to your door, it’s creepy as hell out here in the dark.” 
He shudders for emphasis, and before you can protest and tell him you can manage on your own, he’s out of the car and rounding the trunk to open your door for you.
“Thanks, Steve, you really don’t have to.” You insist, stepping out of the car and internally cringing as your boots squelch in the thick mud where the tyres of Eddie’s van typically embed themselves.
“It’s okay, wouldn’t wanna risk something happening to you,” Steve says, a hand coming out to just barely touch the small of your back as you struggle like bambi on ice in the slippery mud, “here just – just take my hand.”
Steve extends his hand out and you take it with a slight hesitation, your need to make it to the front door without being soaked in rain and mud outweighing the heavy feelings sitting in your chest. 
It’s almost frightening how normal it feels, to have your hand clasped with Steve’s as you walk the short path to the trailer. You don’t want to know what that means, but it feels so nice, the way Steve’s large, warm hand encapsulates your own has your head spinning.
You have to, albeit sadly, let go of Steve to fish in your jacket pocket for a front door key. After a fight with the lock, the door swings open, the warm heat so inviting that you basically barge through the doorway, tugging Steve in with you without thinking.
Steve gawps a little, flounders from where he stands as you lean over his large frame to shut the door behind him, toeing off your shoes like you would any other night. When you finally take a moment to realize what you’ve just done, so casually, you’re suddenly aware of the slight crackle of tension, the magnetic pull of your bodies as you shuffle close together.
You guide him further into the house, flicking on a lamp that’s perched on a nearby table, illuminating the room with a soft, warm glow. Losing your jacket and throwing it haphazardly on a random surface. 
Everything seems to narrow with each step, pulling you both as close together as possible with each passing moment. Neither of you pull away, either, walking as tightly together as you can manage in the small space. 
“You want a drink or something?” You ask, trying to keep yourself as nonchalant as possible, schooling your voice as you cast a sidelong glance at him. 
Steve grins, a glint of mischief in his eyes, as he gently declines the offer with a shake of his head, "As tempting as that sounds, princess, I spotted a little note from Eddie saying he'd be back soon. Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome and have him play a game of twenty questions.”
Your confused gaze follows his where he nods over your shoulder, and sure enough there’s a scribbled out note on the pin board hung up the wall;
BE BACK SOON SWEETHEART, DONT LOCK ME OUT!! 
You really do roll your eyes this time around, mentally sticking the middle finger up at the fucking note. You walk back and lean on the dining table, crossing your arms over your chest. You can’t pretend that you don’t notice Steve’s gaze never leaving your body, watching your every move as you shuffle around. 
He looks disappointed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. You dare to fix your own stare on him from where you’re perched, can’t ignore how he so naturally hovers towards you despite the rejection. Like he wants to do one thing but is saying another, trying to be the good guy.
Steve was a good guy.
In the closeness, the push and pull between you and Steve becomes devastating. The air is thick with unspoken admissions, and whatever sort of invisible barrier you had between you both begins to fade as you float into each other's space once more. 
With a nod of his head towards the door, Steve finally breaks the silence. "Guess I should get going, huh?" 
The words hang in the air, a question and an invitation, leaving you to decide which it’s going to be. The doorway goes out of focus, blurs as Steve inches closer to you and further from it, the silent tension lingering in the air – an unanswered question.
A soft smile plays on your lips as you respond, "You could stay, you know? We could… hang out." 
You offer with some sort of nonchalance, despite how your heart hammers in your chest, and it hangs with anticipation as you hold his gaze, leaving the choice in the hazy space between lingering and leaving.
Steve sucks in a slow breath, his eyes flickering between yours and the curve of your lips. You shiver visibly, and in that fleeting moment, Steve inches a fraction closer. It's a subtle movement, almost imperceptible, but it speaks volumes.
Up this close, you could really marvel at just how gorgeous Steve is, his tan skin flecked with beauty marks and moles, dotted like constellations. You wanted to connect them all with your tongue, kiss and bite him until he was branded.
“You want to, right?” You breathe, chest heaving slightly, and you forget all about how damp and uncomfortable your clothes are, how when he picked you up you wanted nothing more than to have a hot shower and go to sleep. Now, you want everything but that. You want to see how far Steve will go, you want to know if he wants you as much as you want him.
“Eddie’ll probably be back any minute,” Steve murmurs, those deep set eyes scanning over your entire face, lingering on your lips, and the tip of his tongue peaks out to swipe along his own bottom one, wetting it, “we… we shouldn’t.”
“Yeah, we shouldn’t,” you agree eventually, voice breathy and lacking conviction, entire body vibrating, leaning into Steve just as much as he was leaning into you. Your hands grasp for the edge of the table, grounding you when you need it most, anticipation enough to have your heart hammering in your chest.
“Yeah, we… definitely shouldn’t.” Steve mimics, leans in closer, his hot breath fanning your face. He’s beautiful like this, so close that you’re going cock eyed trying to keep your vision of him clear, but his guard was rarely ever let down around you, and you didn’t want to miss a moment. 
His lips brush against yours, a pained, strangled sound coming from the back of his throat, before he’s diving in for that first mind melting kiss. 
Time stops for a moment, this fiery spark igniting between you both as fierce mouths move against one another, painfully desperate like it’s going to be over too soon, like if you stop it’ll never happen again. 
All inhibition is lost, Steve’s fingertips squeezing into the doughy flesh of your waist, somehow pushing you together even tighter, gripping you with a fierceness as your lips move together. Like he’s staking a claim — mine, mine, mine.
His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging for entry silently, which you allow him willingly with a high pitched, contented moan. He’s experimental, swiping the tip of his tongue against your own lightly, lapping until he’s pulling these little noises from you, and it has your core aching. 
The light smacking sounds of moistened lips in an otherwise void room is an almost painful reminder that this was real.
Your shaking fingertips move from the table to grip at the front of Steve’s jacket, desperate hands trying to rip at the material, because a simple kiss was never going to be enough. Now that you had him and knew he wanted you back.
“We can’t,” Steve whines, pitiful against your lips as you struggle to stop, chasing his mouth with your own in a feverish passion as he barely tries to pull back from you, “you keep making these noises, m’not gonna be able to stop.” 
You bring your hands up to cup Steve’s jaw on instinct, without even thinking about it, holding him in place so he can’t fight with himself to get away, “Want it, Steve. I want you,” you breathe, sincere and pleading, guiding him back to kiss you again and he melts into you, “wanted it since the first time you stepped foot in here. Wanted you to want me too.”
“Always fuckin’ wanted you,” Steve mumbles, those soft, fucking perfect lips brushing yours as he speaks, so desperate it’s like he can’t bare to move back any further, “you’re so beautiful, shit. Need you, can I have you?”
You nod without hesitation as Steve's hands tighten on your waist, intensifying the urgency between your bodies. The kiss deepens, a mix of desperation and desire, creating a raw, feral, and unmistakably intimate connection.
Steve's lips become a drug, setting off sparks within you, and the forbidden tension hangs heavy in the air. Breaking away, his admission of always wanting you fuels the flames, and his calloused fingertips trace over your flushed skin as he murmurs, "Wanna do that forever," he murmurs, taking a moment to lock eyes with you, before reconnecting your lips once more.
A desperate groan escapes Steve's chest, a tenor of pent-up emotion. His fingers dig into your waist and jaw, revealing the battle within him – wanting you intensely but also grappling with the fear of irreversible damage. 
Your desperation and passion counteracts his conflicted motions, hands tightly clinging to his jacket, expressing the longing and fire coursing through you. 
Steve's plea transforms into a primal growl as he pulls you closer, creating an animalistic admission of want and yearning, leaving not an inch of space between you, pressing you up so tightly against the table that your ass mounts it properly — you willingly spread your legs for him, allowing him entry so that he can slot between your thighs.
Whatever boundaries you were trying to keep are long gone.
“You’re soaking, baby,” Steve notes, the tip of his tongue swiping along your bottom lip, “you need to get out of these clothes.”
“You think you’re so smooth,” you giggle, the delicate sound pitching into a moan when Steve dips down to mouth at your jaw, “think I’m soaked in more ways than one.” 
Steve grunts against your skin, his teeth grazing against the side of your throat. He rocks his hips into your own, and you have to suppress an embarrassing sound when you feel the half hard outline of his cock press against you. 
“You gonna be a gentleman and take me to my room?” You tease, fingers traveling from Steve’s jacket and up into his hair, nails tangling in the tresses and tugging him closer. You relish in how he finally bites down on your skin properly, determined to mark you as his own.
“What if I wanna do it right here, huh?” Steve mutters, kissing over the raised, abused skin on your neck, “You want that, princess? 
You nod, just once, a deep heat pooling in your gut, and that’s enough to have Steve pulling desperately at your dress. Calloused fingertips slide the spaghetti straps down your shoulders, and you help him take you out of the offending material, shimmying until it pools at your feet.
Steve groans, low in the back of his throat as he takes in your body, now barely covered by a skimpy black thong and a lacy bra. You burn hot under his intense gaze, squealing when his large hands snake under the backs of your thighs, kneading the fat between his fingers as he hoists you back onto the table.
“Can I use my mouth on you?” Steve mumbles, massaging your thighs that you willingly spread open for him once again, a silent invitation.
“Y-yeah,” you stutter, moaning when he drops to his knees in one fluid motion, wrapping your legs around his shoulders as he goes. 
One thing that is apparent, is Steve’s love of eye contact. Touching you everywhere his body can reach, and it drives you up the damn wall. His eyes are darkened with lust as he trails hot, wet kisses up the insides of your thighs, pushing your legs apart further so he can slot his broad shoulders in the space.
The anticipation bubbles deep in your gut, cunt fluttering as he dips two fingers into the material of your panties, pulling them to the side to expose you to the warm air. You feel him squeeze you tighter, gaze moving to take in the sight of your slick pussy, ready and waiting for him.
“Mmph, she’s so pretty,” Steve moans, leaning forward in an instant to bury his face into the wetness of your cunt, running his nose over the bump of your clit as his tongue snakes out to taste you, lapping messily. 
“Steve!” You gasp his name, fingers immediately finding home in his honey highlighted tresses, sinking in and tugging lightly, pushing him closer to you.
It spurs him on, those fucking hands squeezing and pulling at the flesh of your inner thighs hard enough to bruise, burying his face into you deeper and grunting like you’re the best thing he ever tasted. He’s messy, lapping up and down the expanse of your core, suckling on your clit with a perfect pressure. 
“Shit, shit,” you’re basically wailing, hips rolling into Steve’s face and he just takes it, lets you guide him with your hands, moving him where you want him to go. 
He never breaks eye contact, watches you with these hazy, pussy drunk eyes as he gives you everything you want and more. Moaning into the heat of your cunt like he’s getting off just as much as you are.
“Keep doing that, m’gonna cum, haa,” you’re babbling, incoherent as your tummy rolls with sheer pleasure, Steve never once letting up on his assault with his tongue.
If anything, your words have him doubling down, pressing in so far you’re not sure he’s even able to breathe. Your orgasm hits you suddenly, violently, has you pulling on Steve’s hair so hard you know his scalp has to be aching, and you finally squeeze your eyes shut tight as you ride it out.
You know you’re gushing for Steve, making a mess of his face with the slickness that spills from your cunt, thighs shaking and locking him in tight in the aftershocks. He doesn’t let up until you’re physically jerking away, fingers running through his hair softly as your hips shudder. 
You’re barely on the same planet, unable to comprehend it when Steve rises from between your legs and kisses you deeply, feeding the taste of yourself to you. You moan, hands coming up to squeeze Steve’s face as you deepen the kiss, swapping spit and rocking against each other. 
It’d be disgusting if it wasn’t so erotic.
“You’re so hot,” Steve moans, pushing into you until the curve of his clothed cock presses tight into the cavern of your soaked cunt, eliciting breathy whines from you both, “need you now, yeah?” 
You nod, and he’s pulling you from the table in an instant.
Clothes scatter along the floor as Steve takes you to the bedroom, practically carrying you like you’re nothing. Neither of you leave an inch of space between each other as you rip his shirt over his head, tugging at the offending leather belt that keeps his jeans in place.
“Off, need them off,” you gasp, finally popping the button and burying your hand into his underwear. Tackiness on your fingertips from where the head of his painfully hard cock has been pressed tightly in the confines of his clothes.
Steve chuckles, pushes his hips into your hand and you finally get to feel him. Hot, hard, heavy in your hand — big enough that your eyes widen, and he’s burying his face in your neck to hide his embarrassment, biting at your shoulder.
“Didn’t get called King Steve for nothing,” he mutters, a red flush on his cheeks that he buries in your skin. 
“The girls weren’t kidding.” you gasp, wrapping your hand around what you can reach and tugging slightly until he’s bucking into your grasp.
You’re pushed through your bedroom door, backs of your knees hitting the end of the bed unexpectedly. You bounce back onto it, pulling Steve with you, a tangle of limbs on an unmade bed that smells vaguely of the vanilla perfume you’d sprayed earlier. 
“Couldn’t let a guy get his pants off first?” Steve grins, pulling back and looking physically wounded as he does it, to shimmy out of the remainder of his clothing.
In the soft lighting, he looks ethereal. The moles and beauty marks are everywhere, branding perfectly tanned skin, a soft tummy that just barely conceals a set of abs. He’s perfect, like a wet dream, and here he is in your room, in your bed, crawling back between your spread thighs.
“You’re so perfect,” Steve sighs, leaning down once again to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his torso rolling into yours as he steals your breath from your lungs.
It’s everything. The way you move together like you know each other's bodies perfectly, touching each other with a familiarity despite this being the first time.
A hand crawls up your inner thigh, and two deft fingers sink into your cunt, crooking up and finding that spot, running against it until you’re arching under his touch.
Your own hand crawls between your dancing bodies, wrapping properly around the length of Steve’s cock, tugging half heartedly until he’s growling into your mouth, his hips punching forward into your touch.
Time passes like molasses, it could be two minutes or twenty, until you’re both gasping and desperate. Not even kissing anymore, just lightly panting with brushing lips. 
“Want it, want you to fuck me now.” You beg, clenching around Steve’s fingers for emphasis, cunt soaked and fluttering, needing more.
Steve nods, sliding his fingers from inside of you, understanding every word and desperate plea. He clasps your hand in his own, bringing them up to rest beside your head in the nest of pillows, “You ready, baby? I’ll take it slow, know I’m a stretch.” 
You nod, any witty remark dying in the back of your throat. The want and hunger for Steve overrides any other feeling, your brain fogged with nothing but him and his body tight against yours.
Steve grasps hold of his cock by the base, head bowing so he can watch as he presses the head snug against your cunt. 
You both inhale a shuddery breath at the same time, and suddenly he’s pushing in — inch by inch filling you out. You whimper, fingers digging into Steve’s, a mewl escaping you as you push up into his torso. 
Steve looks up at you, sincere and checking in, “You okay?” 
“Keep going,” you gasp, hips swiveling.
Steve’s mouth hangs open in a silent moan, watches as his cock slides into your wet pussy like it was made to be there, taking every last inch of him until he’s nestled up against you.
You jolt when the thick thatch of hair nestled at his pubic bone catches on your swollen, throbbing clit. A breathy, panting whine clawing up from your throat.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet, princess. Not gonna last long,” Steve admits pulling out a few inches only to slide right back in, making home, “god, like you were made to take me.” 
You flush at Steve’s words, “You can– you can move properly. Fuck me like you want.” 
“Don’t say that, princess.” Steve whines, fingers gripping your hips, “You let me have what I want and I’ll never let you leave.” 
Your heart beats faster, harder, whole body alight with all these different feelings, tugging at every part of you. 
Full on Steve’s cock and holding his fucking hand. It’s heavenly.
Steve pulls out properly this time, pushing back in and creating a punishing rhythm that has you mewling and spewing out these horribly loud moans and cries for him. The head of his cock nudges at your spot dead-on with each thrust, has you over-stimulated ridiculously fast, it teeters on the right side of painful.
Your fingers dig into Steve’s skin, other hand wrapping around his bicep. A moan escaping you as he dips down to kiss and nibble at your neck, “You’re so big, holy shit. Feels so good, so good.”
“Yeah?” Steve grins at you, cocky and sure of himself and you almost catch a glimpse of the old Steve in it, which somehow makes the entire thing even sexier. One thing Steve Harrington was so sure he was good at was fucking, and you feed into his ego with the way your body reacts to him. 
Sweaty skin slapping against skin, the creaking of your bed frame under the vigorous movements. The pants and cries that flow from your mouth with every hard thrust, the grunts that rattle from deep in Steve’s chest. It’s pure filth, everything you wanted and needed.
“Y-yeah, I— I—” You stutter as your orgasm crescendos, legs wrapping tightly around his waist, heels of your feet digging into the small of his back. Nails breaking skin on Steve’s arm as you shake and shudder through it, body practically vibrating with the sheer force of it. 
“You needed that huh, princess? Needed me to pull that from you?” Steve whispers, a moan leaving him as he fucks you even harder, chasing his own orgasm, “Fuckin’ gripping me, holy fuck.”
Your eyes roll into the back of your head, unable to stop how your cunt flutters sporadically for him, taking everything he gives you and then some.
“Holy shit, baby,” Steve breathes, fucked out and chest heaving, “m’gonna cum, gonna cum in your perfect little pussy.” 
“Please,” you beg, back arching and somehow pushing Steve in even deeper, eliciting matching moans of pleasure from you both, “please, please.”
“Shit – fuckin’ begging me to cum in you, you’re so perfect, shit.” He grunts, hips slamming into you as he nears the end, thrusts becoming short and snappy, rhythm faltering.
Your nails dig into Steve’s bicep, pushing your nose against his softly, ghosting a kiss over his lips, “Wanna feel you spilling in me, please? Mark me, I’m yours.” 
He moans loudly at your words, the noise so beautiful it’s like music in your ears. You’d almost be smug about being the person to pull it from him, if it weren’t for how fucked out he’d left you.
Steve squeezes his eyes shut, pushing his face into your neck as his body wracks with his orgasm. He grunts into your damp skin, cock pulsing rhythmically inside the fluttering walls of your pussy.
You can feel it so fucking strongly it’s almost hard to breathe.
It’s sticky and messy as Steve untangles his sweaty limbs from your own, landing a gentle kiss on your nose. You flush hot, burning up at how ridiculously domesticated the simple motion is.
He pulls out sloppily, flopping down next to you on the bed and hauling you into his warm embrace. It’s — it’s unexpected, so soft and sweet that you tense for a second only to loosen up and settle your head on his chest.
The air is heavy and warm in the afterglow. Steve's gaze lingers on yours, a moment shared in silence, acknowledging your mutual feelings without a single word. 
You’re leaning up to kiss him again, unable to contain it, when suddenly the bubble is shattered, the bedroom door swinging open abruptly. 
Eddie stands in the doorway, his features screwed up with a mixture of shock and anger.
"Steve, what the hell?" Eddie's scratchy voice cuts through the stillness, his eyes narrowing as they dart between you and Steve. Steve bolts upright, panicked and caught off guard, shifting uncomfortably under Eddie's intense gaze.
"Eddie, I can explain," you begin, panic rising in your chest as you sit up and pull the sheets closer around you. The atmosphere suddenly becomes charged with tension, and Eddie's expression tightens further.
"Explain? Explain what, exactly?! That my best friend is in bed with my-my – dammit dude, she’s like a sister to me! What the hell?!" Eddie's tone is sharp, a mix of disbelief and fury. Steve runs a hand through his disheveled hair, clearly searching for words that could help calm the escalating situation.
"Eddie, it just happened. We didn't plan—" Steve starts, but Eddie interrupts with a held up ringed hand.
Neither of you push it any further, words dying in both of your throats at such a simple movement. You’re so far apart by now that Steve is basically hanging off the edge of the bed, and you can’t help the way your heart feels fucking heavy with it.
"I don't care. This is not okay. I told you not to touch her, Steve. She’s not a girl to play with." Eddie's disappointment is palpable, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
The room is filled with a devastating silence, broken only by echoes of Eddie's anger and the heavy weight of his boots shuffling along the hard floor as he walks away. The trailer door slams shut so hard that the entire shell ricochets with the force. 
It all becomes so painful once Steve hauls himself off of the bed, frantically throwing on every strewn article of clothing that he’d shed just hours earlier, his head bowed like he can’t even bear to look at you. Like he’s scared and doesn’t want to face up to everything that happened.
You can’t even blame him. 
“Steve, wait,” you start, vision blurring at the edges as panic starts to set in, grappling to come to terms with the fact this was all going to be over, “don’t listen to him. He’s wrong, I know you – you don’t. You don’t do that anymore, you wouldn’t do that to me.”
“No he – he’s right,” Steve’s eyes reflect with sadness, the weight of his words lying deep in the pit of your stomach, “I have a reputation. We all know that. He’s trying to protect you, his heart is in the right place.” 
“But Steve-” 
“Eddie’s right, princess. There’s something there, I know it. But,” Steve sighs, shaking his head, “if this doesn’t work out I lose you and him. I can’t risk not having you both.” 
“Steve, will you listen to me, please?” You plead, clambering in a moment of panic to get off of the bed, sheet still wrapped firmly around your naked frame. You shuffle over ungracefully, until you’re standing toe to toe with him, “I like you. You felt it like I felt it. I– I want this.” 
You can almost see Steve’s internal struggle, the way his face crumples once he catches your teary eyes with his own devastated hues. His hands itch at his sides, and then suddenly those strong arms are wrapping around you, pulling you into his orbit and lifting you onto your tiptoes.
You wrap your arms around his middle, fingers grasping at the stretched material of his shirt, clinging on for dear life, "Steve, I really fucking like you, and I can't stand by and watch you walk away from this because of some misplaced sense of loyalty.” 
Steve’s chin rests atop your head, and you feel every bit of the deep sigh he lets out, “You trust me too much, like you know I’m not going to fuck up. I wish I could trust myself even half as much.”
Your reaction is immediate, frustration bubbling up inside of you as you listen to Steve talk down on himself, “You’ll never hurt me. You’re not some ticking time bomb just waiting to ruin everything. Allow yourself the courtesy of taking what you want and letting yourself fuck up. I’m strong enough to handle it.”
“I’ve messed up so many times in the past that I’m scared I’ll hurt you without meaning to,” Steve winces, clinging to you even tighter, cocooning you in his embrace, “I couldn’t live with myself if I did that shit.” 
You pull away slightly, bringing a hand up to cup his jaw, forcing him to face you and really soak in every word you say, “You’re fucking human, Steve. I’m not asking you to be perfect.”
Steve’s face etches with vulnerability, those damned eyes filled with hurt, but his body relaxes slightly, acknowledging what you’re trying to say, “You’re perfect.” 
Your stomach lurches, heart hammering where it sits beneath your ribcage, this pathetic grin taking over, “I promise you, I’m not. Wait until you realize just how many flaws I have — like being so terrible at cooking that I burn toast.”
Steve lets out a snort, eyes crinkling in the corners, fondness washing over him, “I’ll teach you,” he mumbles, leaning in a little, “if you’ll teach me something in return.” 
“Anything.” You breathe, pushing up to bridge the gap. Your noses brush, Steve’s hands gripping onto the soft flesh of your waist a little firmer.
Steve grins, mischievous, “Teach me how to have patience. I’ve been told it’s a virtue I’m seriously lacking, Dustin rags on me all the time about it.”
You let out a soft laugh, the tension from earlier dissipating in an instant, "Patience it is, though I’m not sure how much of it I even have. And you better be ready for some burnt toast along the way."
Steve chuckles, a low, melodic sound that sends shivers down your spine, "I think I can handle that."
He bridges the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours and sealing the agreement.
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piastrinorris · 2 years
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I Want Your Video
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!Reader
Genre: smut
Tags: Stranger Things (series), 18+ (minors DNI), modern!au, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), oral (f receiving), fingering, heavy dirty talk, p in v, pulling out, overstimulation, mentions of anal, filming a sex tape, mentions of reader being cheated on
Summary: You had to make your ex pay for what he did, to you and his former fellow Hellfire party member. There's only one person that can truly help you with that.
Word count: 3.7k
A/N: Good news, gang! Turns out, I actually do remember how to write anything other than Busy Streets and Busy Lives!
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Waving at Wayne as his car passes yours on his way out of the trailer park puts your mind at ease. That's one potential barrier out of the way. The other is whether or not your potential other party agrees to your little plan.
You didn't participate too much in your ex's Hellfire Club stuff because campaign time was campaign time only, and unless you were summoned to stand in for someone, you weren't a part of this story's main adventuring party. Nonetheless, you'd developed your own camaraderie with the group - especially the only regular female player. 
Which is why it was all the more heartbreaking to see the screenshots of your then-boyfriend's attempts to slide into her DMs. Watching him gaslight her into believing that she was misreading his messages as being flirtatious, despite them definitely being so, hurts enough. Your heart sinks to the floor when you see the photos he'd sent. You know pretty well what his own dick looks like and that's definitely what he sent her. Completely unsolicited. Judging by the timestamp and the sheets beneath him, he even took those while you were asleep next to him.
You needed to make him regret doing that for the rest of his pathetic little life. You needed to hit him where it would hurt most.
And so, you knock three times on Eddie Munson's door. He greets you warmly, but there's an air of sympathy to him. "Hey. Um, I just want you to know, right off the bat, that shitbag's never, ever setting foot near the table again. Next session, his character's getting killed off in the most humiliating way I can come up with, and I totally get if you don't want to, but we'd need a full-time stand-in -"
"I didn't come here to talk D&D, Eddie," you cut him off, and his brow furrows.
"Well, if it's emotional support you're after, then I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm not of any use there."
"Not that, either," you shake your head. "I - I don't want anything to do with that asswipe ever again, but I still wanna make him pay." You start pacing the expanse across Eddie's living space. "I mean, sure, I dumped his ass, but he'll feel no remorse from that, he didn't care enough about me to stay loyal. I need to really stick a dent in his pride. I need it to come from someone he really admires." You look at Eddie hopefully.
He shrugs, "Sure, I'll teach that bastard a lesson. What do you have in mind?"
You take a deep breath in. "Well, if he's going to send dick pics without remorse… I was thinking… You and I go one better and send him a - a video. If that's okay with you."
Eddie feels as though all his Christmases have come at once. He'd always found it tough tearing his eyes away from you with your boyfriend mere feet away. He wanted to sucker-punch the sense back into him when he'd learned what your ex had done. But this? So much better.
Rubbing his jaw, Eddie nods. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, we can do that." He gestures for you to follow him to his room, which you do. "My phone, or yours?"
You contemplate, "Yours. It'll sting more coming from you."
Eddie nods, setting his phone on a surface close to the bed and setting up the right angle. "So, clothes already off, clothes on? Anything definitely off the table, or on it?"
"Clothes off, I want it to pack a punch the moment he hits play," you direct, and Eddie nods, throwing his shirt off. You knew there was more ink beyond his forearms, you'd seen little peekaboo moments of the artwork adorning his body, but seeing them all out in the open, as though he's an open sketchbook,  captivates you. He's obviously watching you stare at each one as he smugly swivels himself around to show you all of them at all angles. You continue, "Um, how do you feel about… Not wearing - I promise, the video will stop before any completion happens, I'm not here to get knocked up or anything," you quickly explain, to Eddie's amusement.
"Yeah, I'll fuck you raw." Something about the way he casually purrs that as a smirk tugs at the left corner of his lips sends a buzz through your nervous system that settles at your core. "Anything else?"
"Um… He never really liked… Going dow-"
"Oh my god, of course he didn't," Eddie interrupts. "But he'd have you -?" You nod. "Disgraceful."
"And even though I would always ask him to, he wouldn’t talk dirty to me. So maybe if he saw that in action?"
"Oh, fuck yes, doll, you are speaking my language," Eddie grins. "We talking praise, degrading, narration? How rough do you want me?"
"Honestly, go nuts. I'm all good for all of it. In terms of the talk… I'm good with any as long as it's not humiliating me, but the more possessive, the better." 
"Hmmm, you better get those clothes off and that camera started, baby, or else I might get ahead of myself." Eddie shuffles out of his jeans and palms himself over his boxers as he watches you strip to your underwear with great intent. 
You both silently agree to strip down your last layer at the same time, getting all of the awkwardness out of the way. You're in awe of his cock, stood of its own accord even before he starts stroking himself at the sight of you. You chew your lower lip as you watch in fascination and he grins, "You gonna at least hit record before I end up coming all over my hand?"
You hop onto Eddie's bed, feet swinging above the floor as you ask, "Where do you want me, Mr Director?"
Eddie glances over at his phone screen, smirks, and taps it before striding over to you, pulling you into position by your legs, and throwing one over his shoulder. Pushing the other one out, you realise to get a good angle of it for the camera, he sweeps his hair to one side and makes quick work of snaking his tongue inside of you. 
Your fingers card through his hair and grip tightly, and he hums with approval against your core as his nose nuzzles at your clit. "Is that good, baby?" he purrs between licks, and you nod. He surfaces, shaking his head. "Use your words, sweet thing."
You swallow hard. "Y-yeah, so good."
"Mmm, that's my good girl, doing as she's told, c'mere," he grips your thighs tightly as he laps back and forth at your clit. You sit yourself up at an angle to watch him yourself, the way he looks so lustfully as he goes to town on you. He blindly holds his hand up to you, wiggling two fingers specifically, and you take his wrist to aim them into your mouth. He moans as you suckle and lick his fingers, "Oh, fuck yeah, such an obedient little slut. Taste so good, and so good with your mouth, fuck, I can't wait to wear you around my fucking cock."
You whine, "Please?"
He chuckles, "Patience, sweetheart. I've a feeling you need to get stretched out before you can take me."
"You're so big," you moan wistfully as you fall back onto your elbows, and you feel Eddie's toothy grin press against you as he angles himself enough to slide two long fingers inside of you. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Your hand grips his hair tighter and he moans delightfully around you. "Fuck, Eddie, feel so good, I can't - I need to -"
Eddie resurfaces to rest his head against your thigh, gently sinking his fingers into you and stretching them apart before pulling them out to do the same thing over and over again. "So soon, baby?" he croons. "Getting your sweet little cunt eaten gets you this fired up?" You nod, and while Eddie wants to scold you again for not speaking, he's enamoured by the face you make when you're turned on. Eyes half-lidded, lips shiny and just-parted, chest heaving. He hasn't even played with your tits, yet. Fuck, he's barely gotten started with you and you're already a mess under his hand. 
"Please?" is all you can think to say as his fingers curl inside you, making you mewl out loudly.
"Fussy girl wants to come already?" he asks in that crooning voice again, and you nod. Eddie pulls away from you entirely, grinning at your despair, and gets up to straddle you from behind, pressing an oddly gentle kiss to your forehead as he does so. Once he's sat with his legs draped either side of you and his chest flush against your back, he takes one of your breasts into his hand to massage it as the other hand reaches down to rub fast, deliberate circles against your clit. His lips press kisses all along your throat as you cry out for him. His voice is low, breathy, but still loud enough to be recorded as he asks, "Fuck, yes, who do you belong to, huh?"
"You, Eddie," you moan, turning your head to try and face him as you say it, feeling your orgasm start to build faster than you've ever been able to muster yourself.
"Mmm, and who does this pussy belong to?" he asks before sucking a big, dark bruise onto the base of your neck. He feels your neck start to crane again and hums an uh-uh against your skin, pulling his head up to purr into your ear, "Don't tell me, baby." He pulls his hand away from teasing at your nipples to squeeze your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pushing your face around until you're facing his phone. "Tell him."
You look down the camera lens, moaning as Eddie sucks on your earlobe, the hand on your face now sliding down to wrap around your throat as the fingers on your clit work it faster. "It's all - shit, my pussy's all yours, Eddie. No- Nobody else makes it feel - this good, not even me, please," you falter into a plea at the end as you feel the crescendo looming.
"Damn right she belongs to me, and she wants me so bad, doesn't she?" His hand leaves your clit momentarily to dip down and coat his fingers in your thick juices. When he brings them up to your lips, the hand that had been so gently pushing against the pressure points in your throat falls to resume working your clit as you once again suck on his fingers. "Look at her, she's crying out for me, so desperate for it, can't wait to - to squeeze herself all over my thick cock as I fuck you the way you deserve, right? The way I've wanted to since I first saw you?" You make a small noise of intrigue around his fingers and Eddie chuckles, "That's right, sweetheart, but that's not why we're here, is it? We're here so you can come for me without me even needing to be inside you, aren't we? You're gonna show him what you really look like when you're satisfied, aren’t you?"
Still looking at Eddie's phone, your walls clench over absolutely nothing as your climax finally washes over you. Eddie continues to kiss and suck across your neck as he slows his attack on your clit and pushes the fingers in your mouth gently in and out as they muffle your moans.
"Fuck, yes, baby," he groans into your ear, "that was incredible."
Pulling down on his wrists until his fingers leave your mouth with a satisfying pop that you really hope the mic picked up, you lean back against Eddie and reach up to play with his hair. "Wanna watch me suck you off, now?" You ask with a coy grin.
Eddie bites his lip, "Any other time, absolutely. But right now, I need you sat on my dick and facing me so I can watch that pretty little face of yours as I make you cum over and over again. Why should he get all the fun of seeing that, huh?"
You squirm as you move yourself around to straddle him, pressing your forehead to his and mumbling, "You really ought to keep the dirty talk more believable, you know."
He frowns as his arms slide up and down your sides, cradling you, "You doubt my talents, sweetheart? You wound me."
"It takes an awful lot for me to get there, usually," you admit quietly, "even once."
"And look at you now," he smirks at the same volume. "Ready for me?" he asks as he reaches between you both to angle his cock away from where it rests against his torso. You nod eagerly, hovering up onto your knees and moving with him. Slightly louder, he grins, "I didn't hear you, ba- oh my fuck," he groans out as you sink down onto him without warning. "Oh, fussy girl can't wait, huh? God, you're fucking loving this dick, arent you, baby, huh?" he croons as he watches your face contort with pleasure as you lower yourself further and further until you're sat with him fully inside you.
With his arms wrapped tightly around you, and your hands on his shoulders to keep you in place, he leans in to kiss you openly, his tongue instantly seeking yours. You grind yourself against him while he's buried in you, moaning into the kiss at the feeling. "Fu-uuuck, Eddie," you moan. "Tell - tell me more - first time you saw -"
"Mmm, the first time I saw you?" he asks, reaching down between you again to rub your clit in gentle circles. "You walked in with him. Wearing a cute little dress, but you had a shirt on under it so I missed out on these," he gropes at your breasts. "Hmm, but fuck, I wanted you to stay. Wanted that cute little mouth sucking me off while he played just across the table. Wanted to feel that cute little ass of yours as I bent you over the table and fucking railed you."
You whine, "You wou- you'd fuck my ass?"
Eddie lets out his loudest moan yet, bucking up further into you. "Fuck, I didn't mean that, but if you'd let me, baby, any day of the fucking week. But I gotta take care of my pussy first, don't I? She's being so good to me," he purrs as he fucks you deeper. "I think - we've put on enough of a show, don't you?" he asks as he blindly reaches for his phone, angling it at both of your faces. "I don't think he deserves to watch you come over my dick. Say goodbye, sweetheart."
You look at the camera, smile coyly and turn to Eddie to lean in and bite his lower lip, both of you chorusing low chuckles to each other as he cranes his phone around to hit the stop button.
Reality crashes down on you as you realise it's all over now. That video was the reason you showed up. That was what he agreed to do. He notices your hesitation as he throws his phone aside and quickly swings you both around so that you now lay beneath him. You'd been so focused on making a good sex tape, you had barely paid attention to Eddie himself until now. Eyes blown black, his hair and his guitar pick chain dangling between the two of you, a light sheen of sweat showing against his dark ink. But by far the hottest thing of all about him was the sheer, primal hunger in his gaze.
"I hope you didn't think we were done yet, princess," he coos. "Now I get to really focus on you."
Not letting his gaze leave yours, he aims his cock inside of you once again, taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers before fucking into you deeply.
Your back arches as he fills you, and you moan his name, to his delight. Before long, you're begging and whining again, your fingers clenching tighter against his. "Gonna come for me, baby? Fuck, tell me again, who owns you?"
"You - you do, Eddie," you moan, your hips squirming beneath him.
"Damn right, I do. Just like I said, I'll make you come over and over again. Do it, baby, come for me."
That euphoric feeling returns, but tenfold as you feel yourself tighten around his member. He slides it in and out of you gently as you work through your climax, but it's short lived as he climbs further onto the bed to line himself up with your chest, wrapping a wide, rough hand around his cock as he pumps it, sending warm spurts of thick cum flying against your breasts as he throws his head back and moans gutturally.
Looking down at yourself, then back up at him, you ask, exhausted, "G'me y'r phone, please."
He slowly hands it to you, confused, and you get up to kneel on the bed right in front of him, taking one of his hands and holding it up to your throat until he gets the hint to hold onto it himself, and then doing the same for the other arm, guiding it between your legs.
You swipe onto his camera, flip it to the front one, and set the phone down so that it only starts showing from your nose downwards, making sure that the bruises on your neck, and the cum on your chest aren't obscured. Setting a timer, you smile slyly as one photo takes. You take another with you biting your lip, and Eddie gets in on making sure you take one where he's kissing your neck amongst the hickey.
But Eddie lets go of your throat for a moment to switch the camera back to video mode, mutter in your ear, "You keep this right here, 'kay, baby?" and hit record right as the hand between your legs once again starts rubbing your clit with a lot more fervor than before.
Just as the timer starts recording, Eddie's grip around your throat tightens and you cry out silently, just about managing to squeak out a, "S-so - sensi- so much."
"I know it's sensitive, baby, that just means it'll be quick," Eddie promises, keeping his lips close to your ear, still in shot of the camera. "But I promised you, didn't I?" He drags two fingers across your drenched thighs, "After you already came for me, I promised it would happen again," he wipes one finger against your lower lip, "and again," he adds as he wipes the other there, too.
You groan, "Fuck, don't know - 'f I c'n take-"
Eddie shushes you, "Of course you can, baby. Your pussy's mine now, remember? And I already know her so well. Fuck, I can't wait to give you so much more. Did you mean it, sweetheart, when you asked me to fuck you in the ass someday?" You nod desperately, whining and keening against his touches. "Good, because I most certainly plan on having a lot of fun with my new cocksleeve. Have you be my new favourite after-gig tradition, where I get to go offstage and fill all your holes." You squirm against him, grinding your bare ass against him. "Mmm, afraid I'm not quite the free-use fucktoy you are, doll, that's not gonna work on me just yet," he drawls.
"Ple-ease, need to  need, fuck -"
"What's that, baby? You need to come again? Oh, but I thought it was so hard to get you there. Remember that when I send you this video and you watch it back, okay, sweetheart? Remember who makes you feel this good. Remember who fucking owns you."
"'s you, Eddie, fuck, I'm -" you scream out in ecstasy as a third orgasm travels entirely across your nervous system, filling your entire body with a high like you've never experienced before. With a grin, Eddie leans over to once again stop his recording and gently lay you down onto his bed. 
"Stay right here, okay, doll? Gonna get you all cleaned up."
You nod, mumbling, "Don't think - I can go anywhere else anyway."
Eddie chuckles under his breath, moving to kiss your forehead and then your lips before making his way to the bathroom.
He returns moments later with several warm, damp washcloths and fresh towels, and takes great care in mopping up your thighs and your chest, in major contrast from the Eddie you'd just experienced.
Once you're clean, he lays himself to curl up next to you on the bed and pull you in to spoon him, pulling his pillows down to where the two of you lay in the centre of the bed so he could place one under your head. You hum in happiness as he presses kisses to your shoulder. "You were fucking amazing, back there, sweetheart. A goddamn natural."
"Having such a good co-star certainly helped," you smirk back. 
"An', y'know. I don't want to put any pressure on you, 'cause what you're going through is a whole thing, but you know most of that was just talk for the camera, and that I see you as way more than a fucktoy, right?"
You pout, "So I'm not gonna be?"
He chuckles, kissing between your shoulder blades. "I didn't say that, did I? Just that… This is casual, and awesome, but I don't want you to think that I only did this to have sex. I did it to have it with you. And I'm down to be… Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, a rebound, whatever it is you need. 'Kay?"
You squeeze his arm around you a little tighter in thanks. You know you're certainly not ready for any kind of relationship again just yet. But who's to say that you can't have fun in the meantime? Maybe this goes further. Maybe it doesn't. All you know is, as you watch with glee as you watch Eddie send the first video to your ex, and then set his favourite of the photos you took as his home screen, you definitely made the right choice tonight.
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baby-tini · 1 month
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I really like imagining Chuuya to be just. Such a gentleman. To the point of it almost being cheesy and old fashioned, but it's not because it's him doing it. He tries not to curse around you because "you're a lady" but then spews absolute filth when you're fucking. Also doesn't mind if you speak crassly, he can't, he's the man here, he should show restraint. Early on, he uses honorifics with you until you explicitly state that he can drop them, always takes his hat off in your presence if you two are alone, always pays for everything (he's got a thing for that one in particular) etc.
I'm also really into the whole him basically being your bodyguard when ya'll are out thing, but it's subtle (Of course, he has a gun in his waistband, but that's to be expected) I'm talking the sidewalk rule, always the sidewalk rule, I'm talking opening doors, I'm talking constantly surveying his surroundings for potential threats or exits, giving death glares to guys who stare just a bit too long and then turning back to you with a smile as you continue to ramble on whatever it is you're talking about (he loves it, it's so cute), When he has the time and if you two aren't living together, he's coming over to fix shit. Kitchen cabinet closes weirdly? Car needs repearing? Heavy furniture needs to be moved? He's on it. Why would you pay some dickhead who's probably gonna fuck it up anyway to do it when he can?
It's the same in the bedroom. A giver through and through. Just wants to make you feel good, wants to get you cockdrunk and limp, to overwhelm you with pleasure, to bruise your cervix, you feel so good to him, it strokes his ego to see you fall apart all because of him, because of his mouth and fingers and dick.
I was very tempted too keep this to myself, too think about it constantly- cause that's all I've been doing with this post. I don't think I've seen a better characterization of Chuuya, this is literally perfect. Also the "you're a lady" thing made me think of this.
Chuuya is a gentleman at heart, he was taught too treat women like royalty, seeing as though, he was basically raised by a woman, Kouyou. Chuuya, I agree, is pretty old-fashioned, he definitely comes off as that old-fashioned mobster that you see in movies. But when it comes too how he acts, he is literally the inspiration for the cheesy male role in rom-coms. As for his curing.. we all know that he does that a lot, it's a pretty nasty habit of his that he won't break anytime soon, but he tries, especially for you, because you're too pretty too hear the utter filth coming out of his mouth, but you don't mind and he knows you don't mind especially when his cock is fucking into you. Leaving you breathless, unable too speak from just how good he feels inside of you. His gruff voice in your ear, telling you how good you feel- how good you make him feel. He's so soft with you though, careful not too be too harsh because even if you do like it rough, he's never left bruises on you; ever. Sure, he never leaves you unsatisfied, never- not once. Because bruises are for him too deal with, they're for him too come home with. They shouldn't even be spotted on your soft skin, the thought of it makes him upset. But, yes, he'll pull out your chair at the restaurant, open the door for you. Also the paying for you is such a him thing, because he makes more then enough money for you too spend he just has so much, why would you spend your hard earned money when he has loads for you too spend on whatever the fuck it is that you want.
He knows that his job in the mafia is dangerous, and you could be hurt just by association and he can't have that, and as much as he'd like too just relax and have a good time with you, he knows that's not the most achievable especially given his high ranking position of being an executive. His eyes are constantly shooting left and right, checking for any suspicious behavior coming from anyone, or anything that just looks a little too out of place. Now, Chuuya doesn't really need a gun, sure he keeps one in the drawer next to the side of your guys shared bed, but a gun would poke out a little too much for his liking, so that's where his ability comes in, he also, canonly, has a knife on him, at basically all times, so you can rest assured that you are very safe. Now I do like the sidewalk rule. Because he would!!! He doesn't even let you think about walking close to the road, you stay near the wall, and if you're someone that tends too drift as you walk, maybe can't walk in straight line, that's fine because he'll just move your you to the side by your hips- or even better, he'll hold your hand so you don't stray too far. He also lays on the side of the bed that's closest to the door, so if there is a problem he can just quickly jump up and deal with it, also you'd be behind him, so if they did shoot, he has his ability and if you're small enough, they might not even see you; which is what he's betting on. I also think that he guards the door while you use the bathroom, he doesn't care if it's a big, multiple stall womans restroom, no is allowed in while you're in there. He, in his own right, is your own personal little handy man. Like you said, fixing up the things around the house, he also is the type too fix your things before you notice there's something wrong with them. Like if something of yours had fallen, a vase of roses perhaps, had broken he'd buy you a new one and replace the same flowers so that it looks like nothing ever happened, or if you had a stuffed animal that you treasured he'd attempt too sew it for you- he doesn't wanna buy a new one right away cause it's special and he knows something like that can't just easily be replaced, so he tries his best. But, he wouldn't pay a man too do something that he could do- and Chuuya would do it better, best believe.
Chuuya has always been a giver, anting too make you feel good in anyway he can. He makes it his job too learn your body fully. He wants too know your body better then you do, he doesn't ever want you too be one of those women that feel like they have too get themselves off because they're partners don't care enough too make them cum. Chuuya does care and this is one of the little ways he shows that. I also hc Chuuya too be the type of person that doesn't do... sex. He makes love. Sure he'll fuck you, especially if he's pent up from work, but he makes it his mission too make love to you at some point in the night. Whether that be the soft kisses in between bites to your neck or rubbing and caressing the area that he had just spanked. He never wants the thought of sex for you too be mentally or physically exhausting, like you're just doing it too please him. But, he does also get a kick when he watches you push at his chest and then tug and pull at the sheets because you just don't know what too do with yourself. Your so overwhelmed with how good it is that you just lay there and take it or you just can't hold still. That's what he enjoys though, when you just can't hold still so he has too hold you down with his ability so that you physically can't move, but the aftermath is his favorite. You calling for him so that he can carry you to the shower because you can't move or him coming down the stairs shirtless, with his grey sweats low on his hips, seeing the love bites on your neck and on your thighs as you cook him breakfast.
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vanteguccir · 3 months
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦 𝗠𝗘
        𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Matt are just friends that act like they’re in a loving relationship.
WARNING: None. (Friends to lovers trope)
REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Matt had always believed that change was the only constant in life. He had learned this the hard way when he and his brothers finally decided to uproot their lives from the tranquil suburbs of Boston to the bustling, sun-soaked streets of Los Angeles.
LA was vast and vibrant, a stark contrast to the quiet neighborhoods they were used to. It was in this whirlwind of new beginnings that Matt met Y/N.
Y/N lived next door. The first encounter was serendipitous, almost as if fate had decided to intervene. Matt was struggling to carry a heavy box from the moving truck, screaming like crazy for help to Nick or Chris - and being successfully ignored - when Y/N appeared, offering a friendly smile and a helping hand. That simple act of kindness sparked a connection that would grow deeper over time.
From the very start, their friendship was unlike any other. There was an immediate, unspoken understanding between them. Matt felt a sense of ease around Y/N that he hadn’t experienced with anyone else, not even his brothers.
One of the most defining aspects of their friendship was their mutual love language: touch. It wasn’t something they discussed; it simply came naturally. A gentle touch on the shoulder, a comforting hand on the back, a little bit of cuddling, or a playful nudge, these small gestures were a constant, reassuring presence in their interactions.
Matt found himself gravitating toward Y/N whenever they were together. He cherished the way Y/N would drape an arm around his waist as they walked down the street during fall days, or how they would sit so close on the couch that their legs would almost be on top of the other.
It was these moments of physical closeness that made the both of them feel truly understood and cared for.
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
The bright winter sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow into the car, illuminating the black leather seats. The car windows were rolled down, letting in the slightly cold breeze and the distant sound of other cars rushing around in the - always - busy streets of LA. Matt was behind the wheel, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel as he guided the car along the venue heading to Target, ready to buy the items he and his brothers would use in Wednesday's upcoming video.
Y/N was in the passenger seat, her feet propped up on the seat so that her legs were bent and her thighs kept pressed against her chest, a carefree smile playing on her lips. The radio played a soft indie, melodic tune, adding to the serene atmosphere.
As they drove, Y/N’s hand found its way to Matt’s arm, a casual and unconscious gesture. Her fingers decorated with pink nails lightly traced patterns on his hoodie-covered skin, the touch gentle and familiar. Matt glanced over and smiled, a warm feeling spreading through him. He was used to Y/N’s touch by now; it was as natural as breathing.
"Look, Matt, that restaurant I sent you on Instagram! I really want to come here, they only do Arabic food, you know?" Y/N exclaimed, pointing out the window to the tall, large restaurant, the concrete walls in a warm shade of red with a silver sign that shined below the daylight. Her excitement was contagious, and Matt felt his heart swell with affection for his best friend.
"We could come this Friday. If you want to, princess." Matt agreed, his voice soft. He reached over and squeezed Y/N’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before returning his focus to the road. Y/N’s fingers lingered on his, her touch very soft as she traced the lines of his palm with the tip of her fingers.
They drove in comfortable silence for the last few minutes of the route, the only sounds being the hum of the engine and the occasional horn coming from the cars around. While singing the soft melody of one of Billie's songs, Y/N’s hand moved to Matt’s forearm, her fingers lightly brushing up and down, a soothing rhythm that Matt found incredibly calming.
Without thinking, Y/N’s hand slipped to the back of Matt’s neck, her fingers threading through his hair. Matt leaned into the touch, a contented sigh escaping his lips.
"Oh, we're here!"
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Matt was sprawled out on the couch, enjoying the tranquility that followed a satisfying lunch. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun, which streamed in through the large windows on the right side of the large sofa, casting a warm and inviting light over everything.
The sound of Nick's fingers tapping over the keys on his MacBook as he edited their next YouTube video was one of the only sounds that interrupted the comfortable silence.
Matt had his phone in hand, idly scrolling through TikTok. He chuckled at the occasional funny video, the sound mingling with the faint hum of the air conditioning. He was relaxed, content to let the day pass by in this peaceful state.
Y/N was in the kitchen, putting away the leftovers from their lunch, setting aside a significant portion for Chris, knowing he would return home hungry after his outing with Sam, the aroma of the meal newly cooked still lingering in the air.
As Y/N finished up, she wiped her hands on a dish towel and made her way into the living room.
Matt looked up as soon as he noticed a new presence approaching, a soft smile spreading across his face almost automatically.
"Hey." He said, his voice warm and inviting. The boy patted the space on the grey couch next to him, signaling for Y/N to join him. "Come here."
Y/N didn’t need any further encouragement. She crossed the room - stroking Nick's right shoulder quickly as she passed him - and settled onto the couch, her body naturally gravitating towards Matt. Without a word, Matt lifted his arm and gently guided Y/N’s head to rest on his thighs.
As Y/N nestled her head into Matt’s lap, a content sigh scaped through her lips. Matt’s free hand found its way to Y/N’s hair, brushing away loose strands over her eyes and cheeks, his fingers beginning to gently scratch her scalp softly. The rhythmic motion was soothing, and Y/N felt a wave of relaxation wash over her body. Her mind started to feel like floating.
Matt continued to watch TikToks, his focus still on the screen while his right tumb scrolled from one video to another, but his touch remained constant and affectionate. He didn’t even realize how naturally his fingers moved through Y/N’s hair, the light scratching and gentle strokes a habitual way of expressing his care.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, the combination of Matt’s touch and the post-lunch drowsiness lulling her into a state of blissful relaxation. The soft rise and fall of Matt’s chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the gentle pressure of his fingers all blended together, creating a cocoon of comfort.
Until she finally dozed off.
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The gentle glow of the TV cast a soft light across Matt's room, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere, the blinds blocking the moonlight from outside the house. Y/N lay curled up on his bed, nestled under the duvet, watching a random, soft movie, her body covered in Matt's blue striped pajamas.
The plot was slow, the characters spoke in hushed tones, and the overall ambiance was soothing. It was the perfect background for drifting into a peaceful slumber.
Y/N’s eyelids grew heavier with each passing minute, her mind teetering on the edge of sleep. She fought to stay awake, hoping to see Matt after his hours of recording with his brothers before giving in to the lull of the movie. The faint sound of footsteps against the floor and the jingling of car keys reached her ears. Matt was home.
A few moments later, the bedroom door opened quietly, and Matt stepped inside. He paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of Y/N with her eyes half-closed, looking so peaceful and serene. His heart swelled with care as he softly closed the door behind his back, careful not to make any noise, the click echoing through the four walls.
"Hey, princess, are you still awake?" Matt whispered, his voice gentle and filled with warmth, wanting to make sure before making any noise that would actually wake her up.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, lifting her head on Matt's pillow - the strands of her hair spilling over the cotton pillowcase - and looking at him, smiling sleepily.
"Barely." She replied, her voice a soft murmur. She lifted the edge of the duvet, a clear invitation for him to join her. "Come lay with me. Pretty please."
Matt didn’t need any further prompting. He could shower after. He kicked off his shoes and took small steps towards his bed, the sound of his white sock-covered feet sounding mutely against the floor. The boy slipped into bed beside Y/N, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.
As he settled in, Y/N turned towards him, her eyes sparkling with drowsy affection.
"Come here, petal." Matt gently pulled her closer, wrapping one arm around her torso and positioning her head on his shoulder. He could feel the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing against his chest. With his other arm, he draped the duvet over them both, cocooning them in warmth.
He wrapped his arm more securely around her, his hand resting on her back, traveling to the hem of her - his - pajama top, delving beneath the fabric and up the warm skin that seemed to embrace the cold of his hand, fingers lightly tracing soothing circles. He felt Y/N’s body relax further into his embrace, their legs naturally tangling together, creating a comforting sense of intimacy.
Matt buried his face in Y/N’s hair, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent that always calmed him. He pressed a series of light, tender kisses to the top of her head, moving down to her temple and then to her cheek.
Y/N let out a contented sigh, her eyes drifting closed as she nestled even closer to Matt. She could feel the steady beat of his heart, a soothing reminder of his presence. Matt’s fingers continued to draw gentle patterns on her back, a comforting rhythm that lulled her further towards sleep.
"Y'need to tell me about your day, Matty." Y/N whispered against his chest, her voice barely audible, her words slurred with drowsiness.
"Tomorrow." He whispered back, feeling his best friend finally succumbed to sleep.
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The gentle hum of conversation filled the air as Matt and Y/N strolled through the farmer’s market - one of the activities that Matt started to love doing after meeting Y/N. Stalls lined the street, brimming with fresh produce, homemade crafts, and delicious baked goods. The vibrant colors and lively atmosphere added to the charm of the day.
Matt and Y/N walked side by side, their hands occasionally brushing against each other. They had done this many times before, but today, something felt different. There was a lingering warmth in every accidental touch, a heightened awareness that neither of them could quite explain.
"Look at these strawberries!" Y/N exclaimed, stopping at a stall overflowing with ripe, red fruit. She picked up a small basket and held it out for Matt to see. "Aren’t they beautiful?"
Matt smiled, his eyes not on the strawberries but on Y/N’s face, lit up with excitement.
"They’re." He said softly, nodding slightly. "Let’s get some, yeah?"
As they continued to browse, Y/N slipped her hand into Matt’s without thinking, their fingers intertwining naturally. Matt’s heart skipped a beat at the simple, already familiar gesture, but today, it felt more significant. He glanced down at their joined hands, a small smile playing on his lips, and gently squeezed.
They made their way to a stall, selling freshly baked pastries. Y/N’s eyes lit up at the sight of chocolate croissants, and Matt couldn’t help but laugh.
"You and your obsession with chocolate." The brunette teased, nudging Y/N playfully.
"You know me so well, Matty B." Y/N replied jokingly with a grin, selecting two croissants and handing one to Matt. "Here, try this."
Matt took a bite, the rich, flaky pastry melting in his mouth.
"It's good." He agreed, picking two more for Chris and Nick, knowing they would complain if they knew he had some sweet treat with Y/N and didn't think about them.
As they continued their stroll, sharing the croissants, the simple act of enjoying a treat together felt intimate, more than it had ever before.
While choosing some fresh fruits and showing them to Matt, their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to blur, the sound of salespeople announcing their sales seemed muted to their ears and the people moving around them seemed to disappear. Matt felt an overwhelming urge to close the distance between them, to let his feelings be known. But he hesitated, unsure of what he was even feeling.
Y/N’s hand found its way to Matt’s cheek, her touch light and tender.
"You’ve got a bit of croissant on your face." She whispered with a soft laugh, brushing the crumbs away with the tip of her fingers.
Matt’s heart raced at the simple touch, and he covered Y/N’s hand with his own, holding it there for a moment longer than necessary.
"Thanks." He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
They stayed like that for a few moments, the connection between them growing stronger with each passing second. Neither of them spoke, but the emotions in their eyes said more than words ever could.
A rude sound from the small stall vendor broke the moment, the man clearing his throat as he watched them, his eyes traveling from their faces to the fruit in Y/N's hands and back again.
"Oh, uhm, sorry."
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The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room as Matt sat on the edge of his bed, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He had been feeling off all day, a strange mix of anxiety and anticipation that he couldn’t quite shake. Nick and Chris had noticed his unusual behavior and exchanged knowing glances but said nothing.
The soft sound of knocking against his bedroom door sounded through all four walls, Y/N's head appearing between the door and the doorframe seconds after.
"Hey, Matty. What’s wrong?" The girl asked without even saying hi, her voice soft and full of concern. "Nick texted me. He told me you weren’t feeling so well… but you’re not ill, are you? You were fine earlier."
Before Matt could respond, Y/N stepped in his room, closing the door behind her back and taking small steps closer, positioning herself standing between his parted knees and pressing the back of her hand against his forehead to check his temperature. Matt’s heart raced at the gentle touch, his breath hitching slightly.
"No, you’re not, thank God." Y/N said with a sigh of relief, smiling hesitantly, her eyes filled with genuine concern. "But I know you, you're not feeling your best, huh? What can I do to help?"
Matt’s mind raced. He didn’t know why he had held back for so long, why he had ignored the signs that were so clear now. Every time Y/N’s eyes sparkled when she looked at him, it mirrored the way his eyes lit up when he saw her. It was like he had been voluntarily blinding himself, unwilling to acknowledge the truth. But now, it was as if he was seeing colors for the first time, and everything made sense. He almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, how it had taken a conversation with Nick, of all people, to make him realize what he had been feeling all along.
"Matty?" Y/N’s voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present, her hand traveling to his right shoulder, squeezing the covered skin.
Matt looked up, his heart pounding in his chest. He could see the worry etched on Y/N’s face, and it made him fall in love with her all over again. He loved how easy it was to fall for her, how every little thing she did made his heart swell with affection.
"A kiss…" He whispered, his voice barely audible, but he knew Y/N heard him because he saw her breath hitch, her hands movements stopping momentarily.
"What?" Y/N asked, her eyes wide with surprise while her lips parted in disbelief.
"I want a kiss… to feel better." Matt repeated, clearing his throat, his voice a little stronger this time. He felt vulnerable, his heart laid bare while his body pleaded him to get under his bed and hide, but he couldn’t hold back any longer.
Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she processed Matt’s words. Not wanting to raise her hopes too high, she gulped, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, right above his messy bangs. The simple act made her heart beat loudly in their ears, a rhythm that matched Matt’s - without her knowledge.
Matt’s breath caught at the touch, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. He raised his head, his hazel eyes locking onto Y/N’s gaze, melting with a mixture of hope and longing.
"No... A proper kiss." He asked again, his voice filled with anxiety and nervousness, but courage. "Like... Like lovers do."
Y/N’s world slowed to a standstill as she processed Matt’s words. She had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was happening, it felt almost unreal. But the intensity in Matt’s eyes and the sincerity in his voice made she realize that this was real. This was happening.
Y/N inhale a big breath before leaning in again, her heart racing, looking deeply at his eyes for some seconds before finally pressing her lips against Matt’s.
The kiss unfolded with a tenderness that seemed to suspend time itself. There was a gentle hesitation at first, an unspoken acknowledgment of the years of friendship that had led them to this moment. Y/N's touch was feather-light against Matt's cheek as their lips kept pressed for some seconds in a tentative, exploratory caress.
The sensation was electrifying yet gentle, sending shivers of anticipation down their spines. Matt's arms encircled Y/N, pulling her closer between his spread legs with a warmth that spoke volumes of his love.
The gesture deepened, each movement a silent exchange of emotions long held in check. The world outside seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their hearts beating in sync.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other’s, Y/N's spine curved so that she could be closer, her fingers traveling down his neck and finding home between his messy chocolate strands.
"I love you." Matt whispered, his voice filled with all the emotions he had been holding back.
"I love you too, Matt." Y/N replied, her voice equally soft and full of love. "I love you too..."
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919 notes · View notes
themultifanshipper · 3 months
Note
Hi I love your writing!!Could you maybe do the 🟡 prompt from your list with Oscar. I’m thinking maybe a female driver reader enemies to lovers kind of situation but it is really up to you
Thanks💜
You and Oscar didn't usually find yourselves battling on track, because you didn't usually qualify close to each other. But this time… this time you had locked out the front row at your home race, and it was going to be a blood bath.
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Warnings: hate sex, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, the usual really, although I find the ending surprisingly fluffy for me but oh well, also Oscar is kind of a dick in this ngl, also Bestfriend!Lando bc I cannot seperate them even in fiction
Requested from my prompt list
Obviously this was a fight you refused to lose. You were in front of your home crowd, qualifying p2 behind your teammate for one of the rare times your car hadn't failed you half way through qualifying.
These days you felt like you were driving a fucking Williams.
Anyway, the lights went out and for the next hour and a half the cameras did not leave you two for even a second, the battle for p1 being so intense. You'd lost count of how many times you had overtaken each other, and both of you had damage. Part of your front wing was missing, your DRS was glitching, and Oscar had floor damage. Both of you were too stubborn to come into the pits so you kept going despite your engineers' orders, and on the last corner of the last lap, you brake checked Oscar.
You don't even remember doing it. All you remember is the crowd roaring your name as the McLaren crew lifted you out of your seat and carried you over their heads chanting the song they had affectionately dubbed yours.
“She's a maniac, maniac on the floor! And she's driving like she never has before!”
You remember the podium ceremony, Lando had overtaken Oscar thanks to you and was spraying you in the face from his p2 spot, as Oscar scowled and sprayed Zak, who stood off to the side, ready to give you two a stern talking to after the ceremony.
You remember being yelled at in his office. Something about him smoothing it over with the stewards so that you didn't get a penalty at your home race, at which point Oscar also started yelling, at Zak, at you, and at the unfairness of it all.
You remember going out to a club with Lando, the heavy bass of the music (and the alcohol) transporting you to another realm of existence as you danced together.
It's when you'd had one two many tequila shots (courtesy of Lando's fat bank account) that you thought it would be a good idea to call Oscar.
Unfortunately for him, he answered.
“Hello? Why the fuck are you calling me at two in the morning? Has something happened? Is Lando in a coma? No? Then don't fucking call me”
And with that he hung up on you. So you rang again, not one for giving up so easily.
“For the love of Christ, WHAT?!”
“Oscar! Why aren't you out celebrating your podium?” you said loudly over the music.
“Yeah Oscar I miss partying with youuuuu” Lando whined into the phone over your shoulder.
“Fucking leave me alone!” Oscar shouted, and he hung up again, but even though the club was loud, you definitely heard his voice crack.
So you and Lando had the marvelous idea to go to his hotel (you were staying at your own place, with Lando, it being your home race) and knock on his door. And he opened it to the sight of you and Lando clinging onto each other for dear life.
“Fucking hell you two look like shit, what have you been doing?” his eyes roamed your figures, staying a bit too long on yours, and on your ridiculous dress (picked by Lando of course) that probably exposed more of you than it covered.
The two of you barged into his room and sat on his bed. While he just stared you down.
“Well?... what the fuck do you want?” he scowled.
“We came to ask why you're moping here instead of celebrating your podium with us” Lando pouted.
“What is there to celebrate? You-” he pointed at you “ruined my race by making a dangerous move. I'm not celebrating a fucking p3 when I would have won fair and square!”
You and Lando looked at each other, which was a mistake, because you immediately started giggling uncontrollably.
“GET OUT!” Oscar shouted louder than you'd ever heard him, and Lando immediately ran for the door.
Mopey grumbling Oscar was hilarious, but you'd come to find that furious Oscar was downright terrifying when he needed to be.
You weren't scared though, you'd always found angry Oscar incredibly hot, and right now you'd had enough alcohol to make sure you couldn't run even if you tried.
The furious expression on his face as he stared you down did make you squirm though, and your thighs clenched together involuntarily.
His eyes were drawn to the movement, quickly scanning the expanse of your bare thighs before snapping back up to your face and taking a step towards you.
"Well?! Anything to say for yourself? A fucking apology perhaps? Or even just a reason as to why you're still sitting on my bed in that slutty excuse of a dress instead of running away like Lando?”
You were outraged at his words. How dare he say that.
“How fucking dare you!” you managed to stand up on wobbly legs to shove him backwards. Unsurprisingly he didn't move an inch. “This dress is perfectly fine! It's a club dress!”
“Oh please! It's indecent, I can almost see your-”
“SECONDLY!” you interrupted before he could finish that particular sentence, the thought of him actually seeing you so exposed slightly overwhelming you “I didn't run away because I’m not fucking scared of a dickhead like you!”
He stepped closer to you, so close that if he extended his arm he could touch you if he wanted to. His eyebrows were lost in his hairline, and there was a fire in his eyes you had rarely seen there before, as he shook with rage.
“If you’re not scared of me then why are you trembling like a fucking leaf? Is it because you're cold in that pathetic excuse of an outfit?”
“You seem awfully focused on my dress for someone who claims to be so nonchalant” you purred, stepping closer.
“Fuck you.” he scowled.
“Ooh is that a proposition?” you smirked, your bodies were almost touching now.
“Careful, don't get too cocky, I'm obviously not as easy for it as you” he spat, eyes darting down to where goosebumps had risen over the exposed skin of your breasts.
“How could I not get cocky?” you leaned in close to whisper “I'm the one who got a first place trophy a few hours ago…” and with that, you pushed past him and started walking towards the door.
But just before you could grab the handle, you were pushed flat against the door roughly and you gasped as Oscar growled in your ear.
“Fuck you, and fuck your trophy, and fuck this fucking dress!”
He wasted no time spinning you around and slamming you back against the door, plastering himself against your body and slotting a thigh between yours, forcing you to spread your legs for him.
“This dress is going to be useless by the time I’m fucking done with you”
You were reduced to a puddle of mush as his hands ripped the flimsy fabric, flinging it across the room and his mouth immediately went to your tits, mouthing over them and groaning into the skin. One of his hands went up to grab your hair and the other grabbed your ass hard enough to leave bruises. He tensed his thigh as you grinded on it shamelessly, whimpering as the friction of his jeans felt like heaven against your barely covered cunt.
His mouth went up to your neck, licking and sucking the skin it found in it's path before pausing and looking at you, his eyes hooded and mouth gasping for air as he panted into your mouth.
“I’m going to make you pay for the race, sweetheart, I'm going to fucking ruin you.”
And ruin you he did. Your body was on fire, your thighs were fucking soaked, and Oscar had you arched into the bed, ass up in the air as he pounded into you while holding your head up to look at yourself in the mirror that was facing the bed.
You looked like sin personified, makeup running down your face, drool and tears making a mess of the sheets as yet another orgasm wracked through your body.
He pulled out and turned you over, spreading your legs, weeping cunt on display for him.
He moaned at the sight of your used body, marks and bruises blooming all over it.
“Fuck you're so perfect for me, I can't get enough of this pussy” he slid his tip through your slit a couple of times, just enough to make you start begging again, before sliding back in to the hilt. “Fuck- begging so perfect for me when you're not running your mouth” he growled before pounding into you mercilessly and rubbed the meat of his palm over your clit. The friction was too much as your hands flew to his shoulders and your nails dug in, making him groan as his pace faltered and he grabbed your wrists to pin them above your head.
His face hovered inches above yours, sweat dripping off him onto you as he pounded into you for all he was worth.
“Too much…” you gasped “Osc, I can't”
“Shhhhh baby, you can do one more for me, I know you can.”
He kissed you, much too soft in comparison to how he was railing you into next week. And he kissed away the tears on your cheeks as his hand let your wrists go in favour of wrapping his arms around you to lift you up into his lap, deepening the angle of his thrusts making you cry out in pleasure.
He buried his head in your shoulder as he rolled his hips, fingers going back to play with your clit as you writhed above him.
“Oscar fuck… So deep… I’m so close, fuck don't stop!” You wrapped your arms around him as you finally kissed him without thinking, making him groan into your mouth as his hips never faltered.
He wouldn't dream of stopping, he’d been waiting for this moment a long time, and now that he had you, he was going to do everything he could to keep you.
“Come for me love, come on my cock, good girl…” he panted into your mouth.
It was like a volcano erupting as you came around him. You clamped down hard around his cock and it threw him over the edge as well, biting into the meat of your shoulder, so deep he could almost taste blood. You gasped and your hips bucked into his gently as you both rode the waves of your highs together.
Once the two of you regained a sense of where you were, wrapped in each other’s arms and covered in sweat, you just looked at each other, neither of you knowing what to say.
Daylight was already filtering in through the blinds and for the first time, you noticed the dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks.
Neither of you wanted to let go, despite supposedly being bitter rivals. The two of you surged forwards at the same time and his lips were soft against yours as you clung to each other, hands grasping every piece of flesh they could reach. And you didn't let go until the sun was well and truly up, and Oscar ignored the calls from the team to say they were going to leave without him if he didn't get there soon.
“Stay with me for a few days?” You whispered into his neck as you lay under the covers with him.
“Okay” he kissed the top of your head sleepily, drifting off after an intense race weekend (wink wink).
You checked your phone for messages, only seeing one from Lando.
‘Do I even need to ask where you slept last night?’
Despite the obvious bait from your best friend, you decided to reply:
“Nope... but fyi I haven't actually slept at all ;) ’
You turned your phone off, and snuggled back under the covers with Oscar, who was already snoring softly behind you.
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luvyeni · 2 months
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genre smut 𖹭 warning pairing — client!chenle x sexworker!fem reader | back to library .
request. could you write a chenle smut ? you’re so talented i really love your writing
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He stepped out of his car; telling the driver to be back in 2 hours, before making his way into the club. “welcome.” he gave the hostesses a subtle nod, making his way into the club, everyone stepping to the side for the man— he just looked like he was made of money.
the owner of the bar waiting for him; glass of wine in her hand. “she's ready?” she smiled , pointing to the back. “like always, she's waiting.” He slid her a wad of a hundred dollar bills, making his way to the back— not even bothering to stop and look at the other dancers; chenle had no interest in them; he wouldn't even be in this club if it wasn't for you— his favorite girl.
opening the door to the red room, slow rnb music playing in the background. “hey princess.” you smiled, turning around. “you're back.” you stood up, your lacy black set that he's sure he purchased fit perfectly on your body; extenuating your curves, his cock already twitching in his pants. “I missed you.” you wrapped your arms around him. “yeah?” he said, the look in your eyes, anything but innocent. “i told you as long as you're here , I'll be here.” He brought his thumb to your lip— opening your mouth, he pressed down on your tongue. you moaned, closing around his digit. “good girl.”
“fuuuuck.” he cursed as you bobbed your head up and down on his length. “I love your mouth so much.” he took a sip of his while. “so fucking good.” his head was thrown back as you worked your magic on him. “feels good?” you pulled away, stroking his cock. “Is that why you keep coming back?” he nodded, the stress from his work day melting away. “yeah princess make me feel good.”
you pulled away from his cock; giving his tip one last kiss, before standing up. “strip for me baby.” he sat man spread, as you slowly pulled down the straps of your bra , he stroked his cock as you slowly revealed your perky tits. “fuck baby get over here.” you smiled straddling his slap. “Go ahead,” he said. “ride my cock baby.”
you sunk down on his length; moaning as his cock stretched out. “god this pussy is addicting.” he groaned, sitting the cup down, just to grab a hold of your ass. “Keep bouncing baby.” he guided you up and down, moaning. “fuck princess faster.”
You began to move up and down faster , his hand squeezing your ass , bringing his mouth to your tits to suck on your nipples. “fu-fuck chenle.” you moaned. “fuck i love your cock so much.”
“sh-shit baby quit this fucking job and come home with me.” he moaned. “you don't need this job, I'll take care of you.” you bounced faster on his cock, desperate to cum all over his cock. “le.” you whimpered , twisting and pinching your tits. “fuck I'm gonna cum.”
“cum for me.” he whispered, grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you into a heavy kiss, thrusting his hips up into you, cumming; his orgasm triggering yours, you moaned in his mouth. “so fucking good as always baby.” you smiled sitting in his lap, his cock softening inside you.
“I meant it , you don't need this job.” chenle said as you put your bra on. “I told you that I will take care of you.” you looked at him. “yeah and what will the business world think about the top CEOs girlfriend being a former sex worker?” you said. “is it any of their fucking business?” he said. “And when's the last time you had any clients?” he said you pouted. “That's because you keep buying out all my time.” he shrugged. “exactly you're already mine , might as well be mine and never have to work again.” he said. “Come on, let me spoil you even more, come home with me.”
“fine.” he smirked , standing up. “good , go get dressed, the car is waiting for us.” he tapped your ass. “I'll be in the front.”
“gonna go tell your manager you won't be back.”
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©️LUVYENI
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itneverendshere · 5 days
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I love bartender!reader!!!!!! She seems so sweet and collected...but I was wondering if she's got a little fire in her? Maybe they're at a party together and she gets jealous......which is new because she's usually the calm one out of her and rafe. Hope you're doing great <3
loved writing this bc you're so right!!! it's just so not like her to lose her temper over trivial things but oh🫣 hope you're doing just a great as well💖
i'm usually so unproblematic - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut.
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You’re sitting in Rafe’s truck, staring out at the huge house in front of you, stomach in knots. It’s a mansion, more like.
Kook house. Kook party. Rich people everywhere. You can already hear the distant thrum of music, even from inside the car, bass-heavy, vibrating through the seats.
You chew your bottom lip and glance over at Rafe. He’s calm, casually messing with the radio, probably about to put on those trashy songs he loves that you absolutely hate but pretend to like because you love him.
It's insane how easy it is for him to just... be cool about this. But you?
You’re not so sure.
"This was a bad idea," you mumble, half-joking but also half-serious.
Rafe turns to you, one eyebrow raised, lips pulling into a crooked smile. “Nervous?”
You give him a look. “Obviously. I’m not...I don’t do these things. I don’t know these people.”
You’ve been with Rafe for almost a year now, give or take. Said your I love yous, met each other’s families. Hell, you’ve spent more time at Tannyhill than at your own place lately, and you’ve grown used to Rafe’s kook side. His friends, though? These parties? A whole other beast.
“I already met Topper. Isn’t that enough?”
He laughs under his breath, reaching over to take your hand. “You’ll be fine. It’s Kelce, and a few other people. No big deal.”
No big deal, you think. Easy for him to say when he’s been around these people his whole life. For you, being a pogue, working extra shifts at the country club just to pay rent… yeah, this is a little different.
“I know, I know. I’ll be fine. It’s just— I’m out of my element.”
He squeezes your hand. “Hey. You’re with me. That’s all that matters.” 
You’re with Rafe. The Rafe who loves you, who can’t keep his hands off you even when you’re just watching movies. The Rafe who gets jealous over dumb things, like if you laugh too hard at one of JJ’s jokes, even though he’s just your seventeen-year-old neighbor. The Rafe who texts you goodnight, even when you’re in the same room, because he’s a sap and you secretly love it.
“Alright, let’s go,” you agree, trying to hype yourself up.
Rafe smiles, and then he’s out of the truck, jogging over to your side to open the door for you, like a perfect gentleman. You roll your eyes but step out, the night air brushing your bare shoulders. You weren’t sure how to dress for this party, so you chose to wear something…safe. A pretty red top you only used on special occasions and your best demim skirt. It wasn’t exactly kook material but at least you weren’t in your worn-out shorts and usual crop top or in your work uniform.
The moment you walk inside, though, it’s like stepping into a different world. The house is packed. People everywhere, laughing, drinking, hanging by the pool. Everything’s pristine and polished, and you feel their eyes on you the second you walk in.
Rafe wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Want a drink?” he asks, leaning down so you can hear him over the music.
You nod, trying not to let the fact that people are definitely staring at you freak you out. You’re not a Kook. You’re his girl, though, and you know how much that pisses some of them off.
A few minutes later, you’ve got a drink in hand, and Kelce’s talking your ear off about something you don’t really understand. Golf. You smile and nod along, doing your best to keep up, but the truth is, you’re not listening. You’re too busy watching the crowd, still feeling like you don’t fit in. Like you never really will.
That’s when you notice her. Tall. Pretty, in that rich, polished way that’s almost too perfect. And she’s glaring. Right. At. You.
Your stomach drops, and you tear your eyes away, sipping your drink to cover the dread that suddenly hits you. You don’t know who she is, but she’s been staring at you since you walked in, and it’s starting to mess with your head. Was there something on your face? Had you met before at the club? Maybe she didn't like your drinks.
“Baby, you okay?” Rafe’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his hand resting on the small of your back.
“Yeah, fine,” you lie, forcing a smile. He frowns slightly but doesn’t push it. Kelce’s still talking, oblivious.
You try to ignore it, but as the night goes on, she keeps popping up. Always staring. Always with that look crazied in her eyes. Like she could kill you. You’ve had a couple drinks by now, and your nerves are turning into a kind of irritation.
Finally, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a break from the overwhelming feeling of being watched. You lock the door behind you, exhaling slowly as you stare at your reflection. Were you seeing things? Overreacting? Surely, Rafe or Kelce would’ve noticed as well, right? Or maybe they were used to this. 
I’m just overthinking it, you tell yourself. I’m fine. She’s just..
But when you open the door to leave, she’s there. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, staring at you with that same stupid look, like you personally offended her by daring to exist. 
“Can I help you?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even flinch. Just tilts her head, giving you the most disgusted once-over you’ve ever seen in your life. “You’re Rafe’s new thing, huh?”
What? You’ve had just enough to drink that your filter is basically nonexistent now. You blink, confusion killing the buzz in your head. “Sorry, do I know you?”
“No,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain. “But I know you.”
You laugh awkwardly, nothing about this is funny. “Okay? So what’s your problem?”
Her eyes narrow, lips tinted pink curling. Oh, she’s mad now. She steps up closer to you, practically chest-to-chest. “My problem is that I don’t get why someone like you is with Rafe. He used to have a certain standard.”
Oh.
You almost laugh again because...wow. Really? That’s what this is about? “Okay, Regina George,” you mutter under your breath. You’re not in the mood for this. You tilt your head, giving her your best innocent smile.  “And who are you?”
“Sophie. I dated Rafe for two years, before you, obviously,” she says, like that’s supposed to mean something. You didn’t know him back then, you hadn’t even spoken a word to him. "Guess he didn’t mention me."
His ex. Of course. Of course she’s his ex. 
You snort before you can stop yourself. "Nope, pretty sure he forgot to bring you up.”
You feel a little sting of jealousy in your chest, but you try to swallow it down. You’re not about to let this girl get under your skin. You’re better than that. You didn’t know him, it’s fine.
 “I’m not really interested in whatever this is.” You move to step around her, but she blocks your path.
“Just a word of advice,” she grits out, like you’ve personally offended her, “He’s not the kind of guy who sticks around for long. Especially not with girls like you.”
That does it. The alcohol, the nerves, the whole night—you’re seconds away from losing it. “What the hell is your problem?” you snap, your hands curling into fists at your sides.
“Dirty pogues who think—”
"Okay. I’m not gonna play whatever this is with you," you interrupt her, gesturing between the two of you, stepping forward so you’re toe-to-toe with her now. "If he wanted to be with a walking Vineyard Vines ad, he would be. But he’s not. He’s with me."
“You really think you’re different?” she spits, voice laced with venom. "Like you're special?"
Your laugh comes out sharp, more of a bark. “If you were so special, you wouldn’t be here, playing guard dog outside the bathroom. Move."
“Or what?” she challenges, her lips curling in that same superior smirk that makes your blood boil. “What are you gonna do, pogue?”
That’s it. You feel the fire flare up in your chest. Screw this girl. Your hands ball into fists, and you’re half a second from knocking that smug look right off her face when Topper steps in.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not turn this into Jerry Springer, alright?" He holds up his hands like he’s breaking up a fight at a middle school dance. You’re staring daggers at Sophie, and she’s glaring right back, but his hands are still up, a peacekeeper grin plastered across his face as he looks between the two of you. “Let’s not do this,” his eyes landing on Sophie. “C’mon, Soph, no need for the drama, yeah?”
She scoffs, crossing her arms and stepping back with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Whatever, Topper.
He watches her go before turning back to you, eyebrows raised. “You good?”
You nod, still fuming, but grateful he stepped in when he did. "Yeah. Thanks."
You let him take you away because if he doesn’t, you're going to follow her and throw a drink in her face or do something worse. You feel like you could punch her right in her perfect, stuck-up face. 
He leads you back to where Rafe is, and you’re too upset to even look at him. His hands are on you the second you’re close, pulling you to him like he can tell something’s off. "Baby," his lips brush against your temple. "What’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to kill someone."
You don’t answer. You can’t. Not without completely blowing up.
Rafe’s brow furrows, his eyes darting between you and Topper. “What the hell happened?” he asks again, more forceful this time.
Topper gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, just shrugs. “Nothing, man. Just some girl drama. Don’t worry about it.”
Girl drama your ass.
He turns to you, and suddenly, he’s all over you, his hands on your waist, the other settling on the back of your head, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”
You pull away, shaking your head, still too mad to speak.
He follows, his hands reaching for yours. “Hey, c’mon.”
Finally, you look at him. Really look at him. And the second you see his face, that stupid, worried puppy-dog expression, the anger starts to melt away.
“I’m mad,” you admit, “I got jealous. Your ex’s a bitch.”
Rafe blinks, and then, to your surprise, he laughs. A real, genuine laugh. You glare at him. “It’s not funny!”
“No, no, it’s not,” he says, quickly sobering, though there’s still a stupid smirk at his lips. “I just, I’ve never seen you jealous before.”
You cross your arms, still pouting. “I’m serious, Rafe. She was awful.”
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. “I don’t care about her. At all. I care about you.”
You roll your eyes, but your heart is softening. “She said you wouldn’t stick around.”
Rafe’s smile fades, and he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “That’s bullshit. You know that, right?”
"She’s a psycho.”
Rafe’s expression changes, his frown deepening. "Sophie?"
"Yeah," you snap, because you hate the sound of her name coming out of his lips, "Sophie. Called me a dirty pogue, which—real original.”
“She what?” Rafe’s jaw tightens, and for a second, you see a flash of that old Rafe—the one who’d get into fights at the drop of a hat. "I’ll handle it.”
You’ve seen it before—his protective streak, the one that could turn dangerous if he wasn’t careful. Part of you loves it, the way he’d go to war for you without even blinking. But another part of you hates that you have so much power over him.
But right now, you’re still too mad to care about him handling anything. You push past him, heading for the exit, needing air, needing space. Everything inside you is on fire, and all you can think is that you need to get out. Anything but this house full of people who make you feel like you’re just dirt. People like her. You can’t stop hearing her nasal voice in your head, those snide comments digging into you like little needles, bringing up that same old insecurity.
“Baby, hold on,” His voice is behind you, and his hand is instantly catching yours, tugging you back before you can make it to the door.
You spin around, already ready to snap, but then you see his face—eyes wide, brow furrowed like he’s genuinely freaked out that you’re upset. “Don’t listen to her, she’s full of shit.”
You stare at him, your chest tight and aching, because yeah, you know she’s full of it, but it still got to you. It still hurt. “It just…” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words, even though everything feels like a mess. “It got in my head, Rafe. Like, I hate that she said that. I’m so sick of people looking at me like I don’t belong just because I’m not—”
He cuts you off, stepping closer, and before you can even finish the thought, he's dragging you into him. “You belong with me. That’s all that matters.”
You let out a breath, but you’re still worked up, “But it’s like—I don’t need some stuck-up kook girl who thinks she’s better than me telling me I don’t fit in. I know I’m not like them, but she said it like I wasn’t good enough for you. Like I’m just some—”
Rafe’s lips are on yours before you can finish. He only pecks you, but it’s enough to shut you up, to make your brain go silent for a second. “Stop,” his voice is almost pleading. “Stop thinking like that. I love you, okay? I don’t care what anyone else says.”
You blink up at him, you want to stay mad, but also want to let it go because he’s right here, so close, and he’s got that look on his face that makes your heart flip. “You don’t get it.”
He pulls you closer, hands gripping your hips like he can’t stand to have any space between you. “Then tell me,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Tell me why you’re letting her get in your head.”
You huff, but the fight in you is starting to die out. “Because she made me feel like I’m less.”
He tilts your head back just enough to look at you, “That’s bullshit,” his fingers are gentle as they trail up your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You feel a little stupid for letting that girl get to you in the first place. But damn it, you’ve heard it before—from other people, from yourself—that nagging voice that says you’re not enough.
“I know.” you mumble though you’re still a little embarrassed.
Rafe smiles then, that sweet smile he only ever gives you, and he presses his lips to your forehead. “Good,” he says, tugging you even closer, like he’s trying to wrap himself around you. “Because I’m obsessed with you, and I don’t care what her or anyone else says.”
You let out a shaky laugh, finally letting yourself relax in his arms. “You’re obsessed with me?” you tease, tilting your head to meet his eyes.
“Hell yeah,” he grins, his hands sliding up your back, one hand slipping down to squeeze your ass, his thumb sliding just under the hem of your skirt. “I can’t keep my hands off you. You know that. It’s becoming a real problem.”
You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but you don’t stop the giggle from bubbling out. The way he’s looking at you right now, like he can’t even think straight because you’re standing in front of him—it drives you up the walls. Then he leans down and kisses you again, and this time it’s not...casual. His lips move against yours like he’s trying to take every thought in your head, and it’s working. Your hands slide up, wrapping around his neck as his tongue brushes against yours. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. 
He grips you harder, lips moving to brush against your ear, “You’re mine, baby and I’m not fucking going anywhere.”
That hits you, hard, like a truth he always reassures you off but still feels brand new when he does say it. Everything that pissed you off, all the crap Sophie said, it doesn’t matter anymore. 
“Stop making me horny,” You whine out, tugging at his shirt and pulling him closer. You can feel his grin against your skin as he leans in, biting your lip playfully before kissing you again, you know he’s enjoying teasing you. His hand slides down to grab a handful of your ass again, making you gasp against his mouth, and you feel him smirk.
“I like you horny.”
You’re in the middle of this stupid party, surrounded by people who probably hate you for breathing, but all you can think about is how much you want him right now. His lips move over yours like he’s trying to claim you, and you’re more than happy to let him. It’s messy, all tongues and spit, but you don’t care. You love how rough and needy he is, how he groans into your mouth like he’s been dying to kiss you all night. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy, the room spinning, and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or him—or both.
You tug at his shirt, frustrated with how much fabric is in the way, and he chuckles against your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you gasp. His hands slide down up to your neck, tightening just enough around your throat, and you let out a soft whimper into his mouth, making him grin.
“You're just so—” his lips brush over your cheek, then down to your bottom lip, kissing and biting just hard enough to make you squirm, "Beautiful, aren't you?"
You’re normally not one for pda, not at all. The idea of people watching, of eyes on you while you're with someone, always made your skin crawl. But when Rafe kisses you like this? When he’s got his hands on you? God, your brain just goes dumb, and every ounce of self-consciousness fizzes out. It's embarrassing, almost. All you can think about is the way he’s making you feel, the way he’s holding you against him, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You’re so not this person, not the girl who makes out with her boyfriend in the middle of a crowded room.
But with Rafe? You can’t even think straight. 
His hands slide under your skirt for the millionth time, blunt fingernails gripping your plushy thighs, and you nearly whine, “Rafe,” you breathe, trying to pull away long enough to think properly, but he just kisses you harder, more insistent. “Baby, stop,” you manage to whisper, though you don’t mean it at all.
He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes all dark, his breath hot against your lips. “You want me to stop?” he teases, his hands still tight on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that makes your knees go weak.
You shake your head, biting your lip, and his grin widens. “Didn’t think so,” he murmurs before leaning in to kiss you again, like he can’t help himself, and honestly? Neither can you. You’re so turned on, it’s ridiculous. 
“I—fuck,” you pant, trying to get the words out between kisses, but he’s relentless, pressing you back against a wall, his lips latching on to your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin “Baby, please—”
He groans against your neck, one hand sliding up under your top, fingers brushing the bare skin of your waist, and you swear you’re about to lose it. “Please what, hmm?”
You bite your lip, trying to stay composed, but you’re way past that now. All you can think about is how much you need him. Right now. Anywhere but here.
“Take me to the truck,” you nearly beg him, just loud enough for him to hear, but you know he catches it because he pulls back just enough to look at you, pupils blown wide.
He smirks, running his thumb over your bottom lip, teasing. “Yeah? You need me that bad?”
You nod, not even caring how desperate you sound. “Please.” Your voice cracks a little on the last word, but you don’t care anymore.
You need him, and you need him now.
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Forty minute later, the air inside the truck reeks of sex.
You’re breathless, flushed all over, and your legs feel like jelly. Rafe’s next to you, grinning like an idiot already fixing his jeans like he’s not still catching his breath. It’s written all over you—the tousled hair, the smudged lipstick, the way your top is barely hanging on properly as you try to straighten it out, the stickiness you can still feel between your legs, on your panties.
You feel filthy.
You bite back a smile as you adjust your skirt, your body still recovering from the way he had your face pressed against the seat.  
“Shit,” you breathe out, trying to get it together, your fingers fumbling to fix your bra strap, “I feel like my makeup’s a mess.”
He just chuckles, leaning back in his seat with that cocky look that made you want to jump him in the first place, “You look perfect,” he says, eyeing you up and down like he’s ready to go another round.
You roll your eyes but can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. “Yeah, well, you look like you just ran a marathon.”
He laughs, reaching over to pull you close, his lips pecking your hair, “Worth it.”
You’re just about to leave the truck when the door opens, and as you both step out, you catch sight of Sophie and her friends walking past. Perfect timing. Of course.
She’s glaring—hard—and her friends are snickering, whispering to each other like they’ve just seen something they shouldn't. Sophie’s nose wrinkles as her gaze flicks between you and Rafe, her expression twisting into disgust like you’re both some kind of wild animals who just rolled around in the mud.
But you? You feel smug.
You meet her stare for a second too long, the corner of your mouth lifting in the tiniest, most satisfied smirk. You know she knows exactly what just happened in that truck, and it’s killing her. She’s practically seething, her friends muttering furiously under their breath as they walk by, noses in the air.
Rafe doesn’t even glances their way—his fingers hook into one of the belt loops of your skirt, tugging you back to him with just enough force to make you stumble slightly into his built chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is.
“Thirty more minutes,” he murmurs against your cheek, planting a kiss there, casual but so possessive, his lips lingering just long enough to make your stomach shake with butterflies again, "And I'm taking you home."
And that’s what makes it even sweeter.
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