#like I was maybe black out drunk on some couch and I would wake up only to dance to this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atomicami · 11 months

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omg HIII. could you maybe like- write abt like abby and reader at school (in college obvi) and abby pulls reader into a bathroom and like makes sure it’s empty and locks the door, and things get uh.. hot and heavy?🤭

U DONT HAVE TO IF U DONT WANNA BUT THIS IDEA POPPED INTO MY HEAD AND IM A SHIT WRITER AND HAVE SHIT GRAMMER.

btw, ur awesome.

hi anon! i hope you don’t mind, i changed the setting to a college/frat party instead, but i hope you like it though! tysm for the love 🤍

all clear

abby anderson x fem!reader (college au)

- summary: it’s halloweekend, and after a lot of convincing, you reluctantly agree to be dina’s plus one to a costume party that’s being hosted at her boyfriend’s frat house. the night flies by slow for you, until an encounter with a certain classmate changes that.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, reader and abby are in college (as stem majors), reader is a little introverted, frat house setting, college partying, some alcohol consumption, bathroom hookup, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), reader is wearing heels, and abby tells you to keep them on, nicknames instead of y/n (mostly angel), and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: happy halloween everyone! i’ve been having a bit of writer’s block with my bfm!abby fic lately, so i have to admit the timing for this request was perfect since it gave me the inspiration to write out this fic. i hope you guys like it!

“I still don’t get why you won’t come join me.”

You let out a sigh, taking your eyes off of your laptop and looking over at Dina, who was currently getting ready.

“Because, Dina, I’ve told you a million times that parties are not my thing,” you reply. “Especially if it’s in one of those awful frat houses.”

For the past week now, Dina’s been trying to get you to come to a costume party that’s being hosted at her boyfriend’s fraternity, Sigma Chi. It’s known to be one of the biggest fraternities at your university, and it’s also known for throwing the biggest parties.

The thing is, unlike Dina, you could honestly care less about college parties. What was the point of drinking and partying all night long when you’d just end up passing out and forgetting everything the next morning? You didn’t see the fun in it. If anything, you’d rather be spending a Saturday night curled up in your bed with a movie than getting blackout drunk and waking up hungover on some random person’s couch.

Dina finishes zipping up her skirt before turning around to face you. “But it’s Halloweekend…Don’t you wanna get out of here for a bit, and have some fun?” she asks. “I seriously don’t get how our dorm doesn’t give you any claustrophobia.”

You let out a chuckle and roll your eyes. “I think I’ll be fine, Dee. Besides, I need to study for my chemistry midterm next week.”

Dina lets out a groan in response. “You’re seriously going to spend this night locked up in our dorm studying?” You watch as she walks over to your bed with her black over-the-knee boots in hand and sits down next to you to put them on. “I truly love you babe, but you have got to let loose a little.”

You look over to your side as Dina goes on while she zips up her boots. “Besides…” she continues, zipping up her second boot. “There’s a possibility that a certain classmate of yours might be there…” she says with a wink as she nudges your shoulder with hers.

The ‘certain classmate’ that Dina was referring to was Abigail Anderson. She was also a STEM major just like you, but particularly majoring more towards the engineering field instead. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t find her attractive, but you never found the desire to go for her simply because you felt like she was out of your league. You figured that she only saw you as nothing more than a classmate who would always sit in the back row during every lecture.

You shake your head and roll your eyes at Dina. “Just because Abby and I have the same chemistry class doesn’t mean we have actual chemistry, you know.”

“Okay, but she’ll probably still be there…maybe this party could be an opportunity for you to create some of that chemistry…” she replies back, nudging your shoulder once again.

Dina was most likely right about that. Abby didn’t seem like much of a party person either, but her best friend Manny sure was. Coincidentally, both Manny and Jesse just happened to be in the same fraternity together, which created a mutual connection between the two of you. And given that both Abby and Manny were on the market right now, chances are that she was going to be at that party too.

But as much as Dina was trying to convince you to go right now, you were trying your best to hold back.

“Well even if I did want to go…I still have a midterm to study for, so I still can’t come,” you said, pointing toward your laptop screen.

Once you turned around, you didn’t see the smirk that was growing on Dina’s face. She was so close to getting you to give in and join this party with her.

You felt the weight of your bed shift as Dina got up and walked around to where she was now standing in front of you. “You can study tomorrow,” she says, closing your laptop shut. “Come on, we’re going to the frat house.”

“But I don’t have a—”

“You can find something in my closet.” she interrupts back, pointing towards her closet. “Now start getting ready, I'm gonna go fix up my hair so we can leave.”

You watch as Dina picks up the set of bunny ears off her bed and walks to the bathroom, the sound of her clicking boots following along with her. After a moment of hesitation, you finally muster up the energy to get off of your bed and walk over to Dina’s closet to pick something out.

Your eyes meet with a crammed closet of clothes once you open the doors of her closet. As a roommate, Dina was one to keep her things organized, but when it came to her clothes, it was like an addiction. Her closet was so packed that if one more hanger were to go inside, you’re convinced that it would probably burst.

Taking a deep breath, you dive into her closet and dig around for her past party costumes, praying you’ll find a good candidate to wear for the party. You’ll have to admit that it's definitely not gonna be an easy task, given that Dina is obsessed with all things tight and revealing when it comes to going out, especially with costumes.

You fish out a few costumes from her closet and bring them over to your bed, spreading them all out to get a good look. At first glimpse of the costumes, you realize that none of these options are a good fit for you, so you try your best to pick the best option through the process of elimination:

Schoolgirl? No…

Nurse? Not really…

Cowgirl? Perhaps…

Mermaid? Absolutely not.

Eventually, you’ve narrowed your choices until there was just one option left: an angel costume.

You pick up the costume off of your bed and take a look at it. The outfit consisted of a white tie front corset top, paired with a white skirt and thigh highs, and topped off with a halo and large feathered wings. Out of all the costumes that Dina had in her collection, you figured that this one would be the most suitable for you.

The bathroom door opens, and you look up to see Dina now fully ready in her Playboy bunny costume. She smiles once she sees the costume in your hands. “That’s a perfect choice, and I even have the shoes to match with it,” she says, pointing at it. You then feel her hands on your hips, motioning you towards the bathroom. “Now go get ready! I don’t wanna miss the party!”

Yeah, this was going to be a long night for you.

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸 .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

The two of you arrive at the Sigma Chi frat house, and you can already tell how packed it is just by looking at it. Music was blasting, multicolor lights flashing through the windows, and even a group of guys chugging a keg on the front lawn. The sight of it alone was already making you start to feel sick. You’re starting to wish you were back at your dorm now, studying as you were before Dina dragged you to this party. But it was too late to back out now.

You both approach the front door of the house, and Dina rings the bell. A smile soon appears on her face once she sees Jesse answering the door.

“Hey you!” she exclaims, leaning in to give her boyfriend a hug and kiss before pulling away to adjust his hat. Based on the red velvet robe, anchor chain, and captain’s hat, it's clear that Jesse was dressed up as Hugh Hefner to match up with his girlfriend.

Jesse smiles back at her before looking over to you, his eyes slightly widening in surprise. “Wow, I did not expect you to be here too,” he says to you.

Dina looks back at you before looking back at Jesse. “Believe me, you have no idea how much convincing it took me to get her to come join me,” she says to him.

Jesse simply nods in response, his eyes now on the both of you. “Well in that case, welcome to Sigma Chi,” he says, stepping towards the side to allow you two to come in. “Make yourselves at home, there are drinks and food in the kitchen, and whatever you guys do, please don’t fuck with the thermostat…the electric bills in this house are already fucking expensive as it is. But other than that, knock yourselves out.”

As soon as you enter the house, you realize that it is just as chaotic as you saw it from the outside. The night’s just getting started, and you truly have no idea when it’s gonna end.

Before you know it, 20 minutes have passed by, but to you, it feels more like a decade. You were upstairs, sitting on a couch, watching Dina and Jesse play beer pong with another couple. You’ve drank less than half of the Twisted Tea that’s in your hand, simply because you had thought at the time that it was just a regular iced tea when you picked it out of the cooler. The music and lighting were overbearing, and the corset and heels were practically suffocating your chest and feet by now. You wanted nothing more than to leave the frat house and head back to your dorm to rid yourself of this feeling.

But instead, you stand up from the couch, deciding to opt for a different drink from the kitchen downstairs. Before leaving you walk over to Dina and tap her on the shoulder to let her know. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you tell her loudly, hoping she can hear you over the music. Dina looks down at your drink and nods. “Get something stronger next time! I think Jesse has a bottle of Smirnoff in the liquor cabinet!” she shouts back at you.

You simply sigh and walk out of the room, the hard iced tea still in your hand. You look down and watch the liquid sloshing around in the small hole of the can until you bump yourself into a familiar figure.

“Shit!” you mutter quietly, almost spilling your drink. “I’m so sorry, I—“ your words get cut off as soon as you look up to see who you have just run into. “Abby?”

“Hey there,” she said with a smile, looking back down at you. “I didn’t expect to see you at this party…what brings you here?”

“Oh, I um…” you stammer, looking back into the room you had just walked out of before turning back to her. “Dina wouldn’t stop begging me to come so…I’m here.” You tell her.

Abby nodded in response, finally putting the pieces together. “Makes sense, I definitely figured you wouldn’t be a party person, not that it’s a bad thing though.” she tells you. You can’t help but notice her checking you out, her eyes trailing over the angel costume that was tightly hugging your figure. “This costume looks pretty on you,” she says, running her thumb and pointer finger through the large feathered wings that were on your back.

You try your best not to get flustered over her compliment. “Thank you, um…” you take a moment to look at what she was wearing. She had on her usual clothes, dark wash jeans, and a muscle tank, except she had on a backward snapback hat with the fraternity’s emblem printed on it. “Are you…supposed to be a Sigma Chi member?” you ask.

You hear the blonde let out a chuckle before nodding again. “Yeah, um…costumes are never really my thing, so this is really all I can come up with,” she tells you. “Besides, Manny dragged me into coming to this party anyway, so I figured I’d steal something out of it.”

You smile back at her response before letting out a chuckle as well. “Well, it suits you, Abs…” you let out a sigh before continuing. “If I’m being honest, I’m so glad I ran into you…This night has been flying by so slow for me,” you admit to her, briefly looking down at the ground.

That’s when an idea passed through Abby’s mind. However, she needed to know if you were up for it. “I can help it fly by faster, if you'd like…”

You looked back up at her, and you truly couldn’t hide the smirk that was appearing on your face. “Is that so?” you ask her. “What do you have in mind, exactly?”

She doesn’t respond right away, but instead reaches a hand out to you. “How about you come with me?” she offers, smirking back at you.

You hesitate for a moment before soon giving in, leaving your drink at the nearest surface you can find before grabbing her hand and following her. She walks you down the crowded hall before stopping at a door that was on her left, assuming that it might be a bedroom or bathroom. She opens the door with no hesitation, only to be greeted with an angry couple protesting from inside.

“Shit! Sorry!” she exclaimed, quickly closing the door again. She then turns to you and you can’t help but let out a laugh, leading her to shake her head at her poor decision to do that. “Come on, I think there’s another bathroom downstairs.

With your hand still being held by hers, you walk down the stairs with her until you get back to the first level of the frat house. You then feel her hand letting go only to snake itself around your waist, holding you close to her broad build as you both walk through the partying crowds of people. Abby soon stopped at a door that was on her right, this time knocking twice before slowly turning the doorknob to take a peek inside.

You also try to take a look inside to see if it is empty. “All clear?” you ask her.

She nods in response. “All clear.”

You then feel her hand moving over your wings down to the small of your back, motioning you to go inside first before entering herself, closing the door shut, and locking it.

The last bit of patience you had left was now gone the moment you stepped into the bathroom. Once Abby had turned around after locking the door and switching the light on, you grabbed her by her muscle tank and pulled her toward you in a kiss. As soon as the contact hits her, you can feel her lips smirking against yours in the kiss. One of her large hands rests at your waist while the other runs through your hair, causing the plastic halo on your head to fall and clatter on the ground.

You try your best not to trip on your heels as she slowly walks you backward toward the bathroom counter that was by the sink. Her hands that were on your waist and in your hair soon moved down to the back of your thighs, giving you a boost to lift you and sit you down on the counter.

Abby pulls her lips away from yours to get a good look at you, smiling as she does so. Your lips were plump from kissing her, your hair slightly messy from when she was running her hands through it, and your eyes were blown out with lust and desperation for her. “Look at you, my angel…” she murmurs, running a thumb through your lower lip line. “So beautiful for me.

Her hand trails down to the front of your corset top, fingertips landing on the silk ribbon that held it all together. “Is it okay if I untie this?” she asks, holding her eye contact with you.

You nod.

“Words, angel.”

“Please, Abby…” you whisper out to her. To Abby, that response was more than enough for her to start undressing you. The ribbon from your corset begins to loosen, and you instantly feel a wave of relief wash through you. Once the ribbon was undone, Abby then uses both of her hands to loosen the rest of it, just enough to free your tits out.

A whimper escapes from your mouth once you feel Abby’s hands on your breasts, your nipples instantly hardening from her touch alone. “God…such pretty tits…” she murmurs out to you, leaning in to quickly kiss down from your neck to your tits, her mouth latching onto one of them and gently sucking while her hand is gently squeezing the other.

More whimpers and whines escape from your mouth at the contact, followed by your thighs rubbing and clenching together. Abby was quick to notice that, removing her mouth and hands from your tits as a result. She takes off her snapback and tosses it to the ground next to your halo before getting down on her knees in front of you.

Once Abby was kneeling on the ground, that’s when you decide to remove your heels, desperate to get them off of your feet. Abby notices this as well, and catches one of your heels before it fals to the ground. “Leave them on, angel.” she tells you, slipping the heel back on your foot. “You look so fucking sexy in these.”

Normally, you’d just protest about how much they were bothering you and take them off anyway. But you simply oblige to keep them on for Abby’s sake. You were willing to go through it a little longer to stay on her good side. You wanted to be good for her. You wanted to be her angel.

Her hands are now making their way up your thighs, stopping at the bottom hem of your skirt. She then bunches the tight fabric that was hugging your hips before pushing it up, allowing more space for you to spread your legs open for her. Her eyes were now met with your clothed cunt, along with a visible patch seeping out of your white thong. She soon hooks a finger underneath the fabric and shifts it to the side, revealing your wet pussy from underneath it.

The sight of your pussy alone already had her mouth watering. Your slick was glistening under the dim, incandescent light of the bathroom and your tight hole was visibly clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.

“Fuck…” she groaned out quietly as she gently ran two of her fingers over the surface of your cunt, collecting a bit of your slick in the process. “Is this all for me, angel?” she asks, looking up at you.

“M-Mhm…” you whimpered back, nodding quickly. “It’s all for you, Abby, please…”

Abby averts her gaze back down to your pussy, watching as your slick trails itself down to the bathroom counter. She was soon quick to dive her head in and lick an experimental stripe up your pussy to collect your slick on her tongue, achieving the taste of you as she did so.

“My god, angel…you even taste just as heavenly as you look right now,” she mutters out quietly.

Abby wasn’t lying about that. From her perspective, you were truly a sight for sore eyes right now. Legs spread out for her, head thrown back in pleasure with the material of your costume bunched up around your waist and hips to show the parts of you she wanted to see the most, all while your wings remained steady on your back, surrounding your precious figure. You truly looked heavenly in her eyes, and the sounds you were making from her touch sounded just as angelic as you looked right now.

Without delaying any longer, Abby inserts two of her fingers into your pussy, The sudden movement startles you for a bit, before your cunt soon begins to relax around her fingers.

“Look at that, angel…she’s taking my fingers so well…” she murmurs to you, watching as your pussy greedily sucks her fingers further inside. “This pussy is already doing so good for me, baby…I bet you’ve been wanting this for a while now, haven’t you?”

You nod quickly once again. “G-God, yes, Abs…I need you so bad..” you whimper back to her biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning any louder.

Abby notices once again, and brings her free hand up to your bottom lip to free it from the grasp of your teeth. “There’s no need for that, angel…I need to hear those pretty sounds of yours.”

With her fingers still nestling inside your cunt, she brings her mouth to your throbbing clit, gently sucking on it as she slowly pumps her fingers in and out of you.

It didn’t take long for the speed of her fingers to increase. The faster her two fingers pounded into your pussy, the harder her lips would wrap around on your clit, taking away all of the space in between as she continued to suck on it.

As a result of her fast movements, the sounds your body was making in that bathroom were absolutely obscene. Between the wet squelching noises of your pussy and the moans and whimpers that were escaping from your mouth, Abby can’t help but feel so turned on from it, practically rubbing her own thighs together for some relief as she continued to devour your pussy.

Your orgasm quickly began to build itself up inside you, and based on the way your cunt was squeezing Abby’s fingers right now, she could tell you were getting close too.

“A-Abby…I-I think I’m gonna cum…” you whine out to her, both of your hands gripping onto the bathroom counter while your hips begin to involuntarily grind against her face.

“Let it out for me, angel…” she murmurs into your pussy, her movements still refusing to quit. “Take it out on me, baby…fuck my face until you finish, just like that…”

Your hips rut against your mouth a few more times, along with the involuntary movements of your pussy tightly clenching around her fingers and your clit pulsing in her mouth.

You instantly finish into her mouth and onto her fingers with a loud moan of her name, followed by your thighs trembling right after your climax. Thank God that the party’s music from outside was loud enough to keep anyone else from hearing what was going on inside.

Abby soon removed her mouth from your pussy while slowing the pace of her fingers, fucking you through it as you progessively recover from your orgasm. You hear a quiet groan escape from her mouth as she pulls her fingers out of you, watching as your cunt pushes out your thick white release and let it drip its way down to the counter. You watch her do the same movement from before, licking another stripe up your pussy to collect the rest of your release onto her tongue.

Once you were clean, Abby removes each of your legs off of her shoulders and pulls herself away from your pussy, wiping whatever that was smeared on her face with the back of her hand.

Abby then picks herself up off the floor and stands in between your legs to fix up your costume. Once you were all good, she helps you get off of the counter and back on your feet.

You reach over to pick up your halo off of the ground, Abby also doing the same with her snapback. “Thank you again for that, Abby…This definitely made my night.” you tell her, biting your lip again to hide back your smile.

The blonde smiles at you in response. “Of course, angel, its no problem…” she takes a quick breath before continuing. “You know…you can spend the night at my place, if you’d like..” she offers to you, nervously rubbing the back of her head as she does so.

You smile back at her and nod, your eyes beaming at her blue ones. “I would love that, actually.”

Abby then turns the knob and opens the door, revealing the chaotic atmosphere of the party once again. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” she tells you, keeping her hand back around your waist and by her side.

From that point forward, it was safe to say that the rest of that night was anything but slow for the both of you.

- a/n: i’m so sorry if this looks rushed, i really wanted to have this out by today! @ anon if you’re out there i hope you enjoyed it 🙏🏻

happy halloween y’all, stay safe for me tonight 🤍

tags 🏷️: @ourautumn86 @abbyscherry @whore4abby @zombholic @catfern

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itsphoenix0724 · 7 months

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Dancing With Shadows (Azriel x Reader)~Chapter 1

Summary: Living your life with a long-distance relationship has never bothered you before, but when you surprise Az with a plane ticket you finally get to see how it works in person.

Warnings: SMUT, phone sex, mutual masturbation?, toys

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Bad Phoenix for starting another series while still having an incomplete one. I'm sorry (I'm not)

The morning light is just starting to creep through the gap in your curtains as you roll groggily over to the other side of your mattress. The Facetime call crackles over the end of the receiver as the brightness of your phone blares 7:00 am into your still sensitive eyes. You can hear Azriel vaguely fumbling with something over the other end, followed by a curse and the line quickly muting itself. You laugh silently, opening the camera and calling a good morning. It’s around noon across the ocean, and your slow rainy Saturday seems chaotic for Az already.

“Did I wake you?” He asks, face now lighting up your phone screen. You’re taken aback by his beauty for a second, hazel eyes boring into you through the camera. He’s wearing a tight compression top, and his black hair is slightly tousled and damp with sweat. He must’ve been working out.

“No not at all. I heard a crash, are you okay?” you ask, voice still crackly with sleep. A delightful red color sweeps the highs of Azirel’s cheekbones.

“I dropped a weight.” He supplies and you can see his shoulders move with a shrug. He sets you back down, now propping up the phone so you can watch him continue to lift. Your mouth almost waters, but you manage to reign yourself in.

“I wish you would wait for Rhys or Cas.” You can’t see Azriel’s eyes while he’s reclined on the bench, but you’re sure they’re rolling at the mention of his roommates. You move about your own apartment, getting ready for the day. Changing into a comfy set of pajamas you settle in to read comfortably on your couch.

You never minded the distance between the two of you.

Maybe that’s because it’s always been like this. You’d met Azriel on a dating app after you and your friend got wine-drunk one night and you switched the location to London. The two of you matched and it’s been the best six months of your life. He’s been kind, caring, and better than every guy you’d ever met in New York City.

Obviously, you want to be able to kiss and hold your boyfriend, hopefully, soon you can accomplish that. You bought Az a plane ticket so he’ll end up here for a week over Valentine’s Day. You just hope he’s able to make it, you did opt for a cancelable flight just in case he can’t get time off work, but he works in cyber security so he should be able to take it with him if needed.

You’ve finished your book, and Azriel is cooking dinner on his end of the line. The phone propped up against something on his counter, Cassian walks into the kitchen, clapping him on the shoulder before noticing you.

“There she is!” Cas steals the phone focusing on his face as he greets you with a broad smile. “How are you, princess?” Azriel snatches the phone back, letting a jealous stream of curses spew out of his mouth.

You can see him glaring at Cassian but as your laugh echoes back his eyes soften.

“I’m good, how are you.” Cassian gives a noncommittal shrug, stealing a piece of something off the cutting board before calling his goodbyes.

“He needs to learn to mind his business,” Azriel mutters but shines a bright smile when you laugh again.

“You’re such a baby.” You reply, still trying to fight laughter down at his pouting.

“I’m not a baby, I just don’t enjoy when Cassian flirts with you.” Az supplies moving about the kitchen.

You enjoy watching him cook.

You shamelessly ogle his back when he turns to the stove, loving the way the fabric of his shirt accentuates his broad shoulders. He moves like smoke. Gracefully gliding around the kitchen, pulling different spices and chopping different ingredients for some kind of stirfry.

Azriel being so good with a knife probably shouldn’t turn you on so much.

He has to hang up the phone to eat dinner with his roommates, so you blow him a kiss as he promises to call you back when he can. This leaves you to get ready for the little surprise you have planned for him.

You shower, styling your hair to perfection and applying some makeup before changing into the midnight blue lingerie set you picked out for him. You tie a barely-there black robe around yourself, make your bed, and light a few candles around the room to hopefully set the mood. A wicked idea flashes across your mind, so you make your way to the bathroom and slip a shoulder out of the robe snapping a picture quickly and sending it to Azriel’s contact.

“A little surprise to unwrap later ;)” It says that the message has been read at the bottom of the screen. Dots line the bottom of your screen, and you bite your lip as you await his response, heat coiling in the pit of your stomach already.

“What’re you trying to do to me, Sweetheart? I practically choked on my dinner” comes his response, and the previous heat turns practically boiling. A second text comes through a second later “I’ll be done in five minutes. Don’t you dare even think about touching yourself. Wait nice and pretty for me okay?” You double-check to make sure all your toys are charged, waiting patiently for Azriel’s Facetime call.

You can practically feel yourself dripping down your thighs in anticipation.

He calls four minutes later. Setting your phone up on your dresser you answer strutting over to the edge of the bed so he can see all of you. All you can hear is the sound of Az’s breathing and the lock on his door clicking shut.

“Take it off,” he practically growls and you play with the tie before you pull it apart and let the black silk pool around you on the bed. “You look absolutely fucking beautiful.” His pupils blow wide as he looks at you feeling like a goddess with his attention.

“Do you like it?” You tease, fluttering your eyelashes and sending him a sugar-sweet smile.

“That’s a ridiculous fucking question, I want to devour you.” His voice is like midnight water, ripples feel like they’re caressing down your spine as you shiver. Even now, even over the phone, it thrums through your chest like guitar strings, reverberating and ricocheting around your rapidly beating heart.

“Tell me what you want me to do Az,” you gasp out, waiting for him to give you some direction, eager to be obedient. Az takes a moment to admire how the blue lace clings to your skin, delicate gemstones glittering like you’d ripped the stars straight out of the sky.

“Lay back on the bed.” He rumbles, shamefully stealing an eyeful of your ass as you turn to crawl up to your pillows. “And as much as I love this outfit, I need you to take it off. Right Now.” You strip yourself out of the lace set, tossing it onto the carpet. His eyes blow out as he admires your naked form. You hear Az settle himself on his own bed and the sound of his belt unbuckling makes your mouth water. You’ve seen his dick before, obviously, but you wish that you could wrap your mouth around him right now.

“Are you touching yourself?” You mutter into the quiet, the sound like a bomb exploding around your buzzing anticipation.

“Not yet.” he grinds out. “I’m waiting for you.” his jeans and shirt hit the ground moments later. You eagerly drink in the dark ink you can see swirling around his collarbones.

“I wanna suck you off so bad.” Your brain goes into that empty fuzzy space that only happens when you and Az do something like this. A pained sort of noise falls out of his mouth, a mix between a whimper and a groan.

“Are you wet for me?” He questions, quirking a dark brow. You hum your difference, shrugging a bare shoulder. “You don’t know? Why don’t you find out for me?” You skate your fingers down your body, gliding them through your center. Your fingers come away slick with your arousal, and you circle your clit once letting out a breathless moan that makes Azriel’s eyes roll.

“I want you.” You mumble as you continue to toy with yourself and let your mind run wild. Images flash behind your eyelids, thoughts of Az between your thighs and him pounding you into the mattress so hard his hands leave bruises on your hips.

“Get your vibrator.” He orders and you slip your hand into the drawer of your right nightstand. You find the pink bullet and flick it to the lowest setting. “Run it down your body, slowly.” Following his instructions you drag the toy down your body until you reach your center. You can hear Azriel’s labored breath as he exhibits self-restraint. He wants nothing more right now than to make you cry with pleasure instead of that toy. “Give me a show now, Sweetheart.” He kicks off his underwear, finally palming his rock-hard cock.

You do exactly as he asks flicking the vibrator up another setting as you finally allow it to touch your clit. You throw your head back with a moan, fisting your other hand in your bed sheets. You imagine it’s his tongue or his fingers. A thousand fantasies flash in your brain as you push down a little harder, hips canting up to meet the toy, grinding yourself into it. Azriel jerks himself, his own fantasies playing on a loop. He keeps his eyes open though, refusing to take his eyes off of you for even one second.

He doesn’t even think he’s blinked since the moment you answered his phone call.

“Az, I wanna hear you cum. Please.” You beg, you need to hear him to get yourself there. Azriel bites back a guttural moan, he’s still having trouble wrapping his brain around the fact that you actually want to hear him be loud. He’s been quiet his whole life, not quite used to having someone who never wants him to stop talking. “Please,” you beg again and he snaps letting a whimper escape out of his lips. All of his moans slip out after that. It’s music to your ears as you turn the vibrator up another speed and slip a finger inside of you, curling your fingers so you can barely skim the spot that makes you see white.

“I’m close,” he promises and that helps you push yourself toward a blazing crescendo right as Az explodes alongside you. You stand on shaking legs and collect your phone from the dresser before slumping back against the pillows. “You’re amazing,” He mutters into his pillow, eyelids drooping in his state of bliss.

“I bought you a plane ticket.” you can’t control it as you blurt it out. “For over Valentine’s Day…if you want to come.” it tumbles out, suddenly insecure.

“You what?” Azriel shoots up shock straight, looking at you with wild eyes. “Are you joking?”

“No, I’m not joking. I’m sorry if it’s too forward–I can cancel it, I should’ve talked to you about it first.” You curse, already pulling up the airport's website to cancel the ticket.

“Don’t cancel it.” Azriel cuts in, “Of course I want to come. I’ll be there, whatever it takes.”

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #acotar au #azriel shadowsinger #azriel au #azriel x you

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lethalchiralium · 2 years

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I’m Yours | Alejandro Vargas x Wife!Reader

a/n: HAHHAA. NO MAN FROM COD CAN ESCAPE ME. except the scrunkly man. and maybe graves, unless you get on your knees and beg for him.

warnings: alejandro is drunk, he loves you, rudy is very tired of both his and your shit, use of y/n

summary: Rudy has brought you home a very, very drunk husband.

gif not mine! @icaxrus

It was just past 1am when Rudy called and said that he was outside your door with your husband.

You jogged down the hallway in Alejandro’s old t-shirt and some pajama shorts, ripping the door open to find an incredibly drunk Alejandro, hanging off of Rudy’s shoulder. The man had wild eyes, a smile that was huge but his eyebrows quickly furrowed at the sight of you. He looked up to Rudy, “Pensé que me ibas a llevar a casa.”

“I did take you home.” Rudy answered, holding his hand out towards you. You stepped towards Alejandro, your hand placed on his shoulder but he ripped it away - his weight almost making Rudy fall backwards, but he kept steady after wobbling.

Your husband looked at you, alarmed. “¡No, no me toques! Tengo una esposa, ella te matará si me tocas!” He looked to Rudy, loudly whispering, “Mi amor estará en casa en cualquier momento, Rudy, esperemos.”

Poor Rudy glanced to you as you smiled, trying to hold back laughter as you stepped to the side. The men hobbled into your home, you closed the door behind them but Alejandro turned to look at you, putting his hand up.

“I am very sorry, Y/N, you’re pretty but my wife, Y/N, is beautiful.” He turned back towards the living room, only to see his couch, chirping, “¡Mi sofá!”

Rudy laughed, helping the man into the living room, saying, “Hermano, we should get you up to bed.”

The Colonel gasped in offense. “With her here?! Y/N would be furious! Have her sleep in the guest room, dormiré en el sofá mientras espero a mi esposa, muchas gracias.” Alejandro quickly collapsed on the couch, you had followed them into the living room. As soon as Alejandro rolled over to face the back of the couch, he was out like a light.

Rudy looked to you, almost laughing as he said, “At least he knows who you are and that he has a wife.”

You smiled at him, leaning over the couch and brushing Alejandro’s hair from his face. You moved down to the end of the couch, pulling a black blanket over your husband. “I’m very glad he knows - he’s going to get the best head of his life when he wakes up.”

Rudy’s ears went red. “Ustedes dos están hechos el uno para el otro.”

You gently pet Alejandro’s shoulder, he grumbled in his sleep as you said, “Of course he’s made for me, he’s my husband.”

———

#alejandro vargas imagine #alejandro vargas call of duty #alejandro vargas x fem!reader #colonel alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader imagines #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas fanfic #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas imagines #alejandro vargas x wife!reader #lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium

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dearfandomdiary · 2 years

Text

Mornings with your husband

sherlock holmes x wife!reader Warnings: idk. ooc!sherlock ?? lmao word count: 810 word

Author's note: Hey! this is part two of Waiting on your husband ! There is a Sigmund Freud reference just for funsies bc you're into psychology and just read his paper; is it accurate to the time period? idk. is this for funsies? absolutely. SO ENJOY!!

You awoke due to the sun streaks coming through the curtains. You had forgotten to close them completely. Like instinct, your hand reached out to your right where Sherlock slept but all you felt was emptiness; the bed made and cold. You groaned at the memory. He had slept on the couch after coming home drunk.

You sighed before getting up. That will be interesting, you thought with a chuckle as you made the bed. Wrapping your morning robe around your body, you walked out of your shared bedroom.

Silence welcomed you which came to a surprise. It was already 8 am. On any other day, he would be up and about already. Making tea, working on his cases; some kind of noise always happened.

Sherlock was still asleep, you noticed and you chuckled quietly. His body was turned towards the backrest as best as he could, almost curled into himself like a fetus. Seeing him sleep, you decided to make coffee and breakfast first. He would definitely need that. You also grabbed his newspaper from outside.

After preparing everything on the dining table, as quiet as you could, you walked over to the chaise lounge and sat on the small corner. A hand on his thigh, you began: “Sherlock? It’s time to wake up.” Your hand brushed over his thigh. “Sherlock. Come on, love.”

Then, finally. He groaned, his hand reaching out to cover your own. “Lay with me.” he mumbled, his hand grabbing yours to tug you close.

But you held your ground. A chuckle left your lips. “Maybe later. I made coffee and breakfast. Porridge with applesauce and toast with jam.”

This caused Sherlock to open an eye and twisting to look at you. His eyes squinted against the brightness from the kitchen windows. “Black coffee with a splash of milk?”

You nodded. “Of course. Up you go. Your sister is arriving soon.” you reminded him with a smile. His antics really were adorable sometimes.

He hummed, another attempt to tug at your hand. “Soon isn’t now. Come on, let's cuddle for a bit.”

For a moment, it felt it was working. You weighed your options. You loved spending time with him, his hugs felt like home and comfort but then again. Enola was coming soon and you needed to get dressed and Sherlock needed to get ready for the day no matter how hungover he was.

With a huff, you removed your slippers. “Fine. But only for a few minutes, alright? I have so much to do today even if you never notice it.” you argued as you watched him; his hand never releasing yours. He sat back against the back of the chaise lounge, his legs spread slightly so you could get settled in his arms, leaning against his chest. Your head fell back against his shoulder and a low hum left your lips.

“Good?”

“Perfect.”

He chuckled at your response and kissed the top of your head. “Did you get my newspaper?” he asked and you nodded.

“It’s on the dining table. Do you want it? I can get it for you.”

Sherlock let out a laugh. “What I want, is for my woman to stay in my arms right now. I can read it later.” he said, his arms tightening around your waist.

You chuckled. “Well maybe your woman likes being on her feet and not just sitting around all day.” you replied while your hand came down to Sherlock’s, your index finger running up and down his fingers.

Goosebumps were forming, you could see it and it made you grin.

Sherlock groaned in response, his face resting in the crook of your neck. “You never even met my mother and you’re starting to sound like her.”

You couldn’t resist laughing. “Careful or people might think you have an Oedipus Complex.” you teased as her hand reached up to stroke through his curly hair.

His eyes opened almost immediately. “Mh? Did you read his paper?” Sherlock lifted his head. “I do not have an Oedipus Complex, (Y/N).” he argued.

“I know, love. I was joking. I’ve been with a few men before you who fit those criteria a lot better.” you said, your eyebrows furrowed slightly; you were almost cringing at the image. “Anyhow— let’s not speak of that. What were you doing yesterday that required you to get drunk?”

You felt him stiffen behind you and could feel the change in topic before it happened.

“Oh, look at the time. Enola should arrive sson. Let me get changed! I’ll eat after!” he said as he gently pushed you back to get up. He practically vanished into thin air.

You pouted a little. He rarely kept such tight hold on his cases. What could possibly be going on?

You were ripped out of your thought when you heard a knock on your door.

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #sherlock holmes enola holmes #enola holmes #enola 2

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sweetsweetjellybean · 1 year

Text

If Tomorrow Never Comes | Part 2 | Never Alone

Summary: Trapped in the Upside Down, Steve is prepared to die alone until he finds you hurt and in need of help. Doing your best to survive while the world catches fire, is there time for one more chapter in your story?

Inspired By: As the world burns by @myeuphoricmindset

TW: FemReader, Smut, Mentions of death, mild violence No Minors 18+ Series Masterlist WC:7607

Even though there is no sun, the light here does change. The black veil of night lifts, leaving the world awash in a pale blue half-light. The sun stays forever banished just below the horizon. Steve doesn't see it change this morning. Thick velvet drapes hung with brass rings cover every window of the cottage, keeping out the Upside-Down. His internal clock wakes him, and for the first time in a long time, it's without the heavy dread, without the emptiness. Instead, he wakes with the soft warmth of you gathered in his arms, with hope blossoming. His eyes trace the delicate slope of your peaceful features, committing them to memory. Goddam, you're pretty. He keeps still, letting the soft puffs of your breath fan over his neck, limbs still woven together as tightly as threads on a loom. Holding you like this, maybe it can be enough. These fleeting moments could be enough to get him through each day. Whatever else happens, he could have this. His lips brush your forehead as his eyes blink closed, and he lets himself drift.

Standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the chipped cast iron kitchen sink, you’ve been brushing your teeth for at least five minutes. Sounds of pleasure escape as the minty foam bubbles inside your mouth. Taking a small sip from the canteen, you swish and spit before running your tongue over your lips. Steve chuckles next to you, taking the canteen and doing the same.

“You really like brushing your teeth,” he teases.

“I will not apologize for good hygiene,” you counter, “Would you like to kiss someone with bad breath?”

“Definitely not.” He sets down his toothbrush and steps closer, tongue poking the inside of his lip as he crowds you against the counter. “It’s good to know that won’t be a problem for us going forward.”

Heat creeps up your neck until it settles into your cheeks. Something has changed with him overnight, like a decision has been made.

“You’ve got a little…” Picking up a knitted dish towel from next to the sink, you dab the toothpaste from the corner of his mouth. His hand covers yours, and your heart beats wildly in your chest. He’s got you off-kilter. You’ve never craved attention until you had a taste of his. A few looks, and you're drunk with it.

He turns your hand over and looks down at the towel with a frown. “Why is everything in this house knitted?”

Your smile widens. “I’m not sure.” Pulling your hand away, you fold the towel and place it back on the worn butcher block countertop next to the stacks of kitchen linens and trivets, all knitted in bright-colored yarn. Copper pots and shelves stacked with dishes and crockery line the ivory-painted walls of the rustic kitchen. The well-used avocado green appliances look at least twenty years old, and cozies knitted to look like potted plants cover the kettle and toaster.

“Do you know who lives here?” you ask, eyeing the table set for two with matching knit placemats and napkins, “I mean, on the other side.”

“No idea.” He leans against the counter, eyes roaming around the room. “Maybe there are some family photos around somewhere. Come on.”

His hand is on the small of your back as you follow the hand-tied rug down the hall to the living room, where folded homemade afghans lie over the backs of the two armchairs and a comfortable-looking sofa arranged around the stone fireplace. The mantel is crowded with a collection of framed photos filled with happy faces.

“I like it here.” Taking a seat on the couch, you imagine curling up with a book and enjoying the warmth of a fire.

“Yeah?” He stands at the mantle, squinting at the pictures, “I do, too,” he says absently as he plucks one of the frames from its spot. "Do you want to stay for a while?"

“Is it safe?” You ask as he sits down beside you, clutching the frame, his side pressing into yours. So far, you haven’t slept in the same house twice. Steve preferred to keep on the move, feeling you were most vulnerable at night.

“This place seems pretty solid, and it’s close to the water. I think it’s as safe as anywhere at this point.”

“Then I’d like to stay.”

It feels like you're building a bubble. A place for only the two of you where you could forget about the reaper that's getting closer to knocking at your door. Even if it’s all an illusion, you’re happy to pretend if he’s with you.

“I do know who lives here.” He hands you the frame containing a photo of an older couple posed in front of the cottage, the man's arm wrapped around the woman's shoulder. Instead of looking at the camera, their faces are turned to each other. “This is Mrs. Willard,” he says, tapping the glass, “When I was kid, she used to yell at us if she saw us hanging around downtown. She scared the hell out of me. She's always dressed in black, so all the kids call her a witch. If she caught me, I thought she would eat me like in Red Riding Hood.”

“I think that was Hansel and Grettle.” Tucking your leg underneath your body, you turn into him, setting the frame on your lap. “Red Riding Hood got eaten by the wolf.”

His brows pull together. “I thought it was all the same story."

Laughing, you shake your head in response.

"Anyway," he begins again, pretending to be irritated with your interruption, "My mom told me that her husband died, and she dresses like that because she’s in mourning."

"How long ago did he die?"

"Well, the first time she yelled at me, I was probably about five, looking at the candy in Melvald’s. She told me all my teeth were going to rot and fall out of my head. So he probably died sometime before I was born."

"And she still wears black?" you ask with wide eyes.

He nods. "She still yells at kids too."

Your lips stretch into a grin, and your shoulders rise as you release a sigh.

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"What?"

"I know that look," he says, shaking his head, "You think it's romantic."

"It is!" Your fingers wrap around his forearm.

"It's depressing," he says, laughing at you.

"No. Imagine loving someone so much that even once they're gone, you think about them all the time. A love you can never get over," you explain, squeezing his arm. "That is romantic."

Shaking his head, he glances down at where you're touching him. "I like the way you look at things," he tells you, taking your hand and slipping his fingers into the spaces between yours. “If we're going to stay, we should go into town and get enough food to last us a few days."

"Alright," you say, admiring the way you fit together. Knowing you'll follow him anywhere as long as he keeps holding your hand.

The walk takes longer than expected. Parts of the asphalt have cracked and given way into deep sinkholes that stretch across entire streets, causing you to backtrack and change routes more than once.

"I think we better take everything we can carry," he says as he ties the red bandanna covering his mouth and nose. "We might not be able to come back." The smell of rotten food is wafting through the shattered glass doors of Bradley’s Big Buy. Unprepared on your first visit, Steve threw a brick through the glass, and the stench left you both gagging.

"I'm ready." Your fingers smooth out the cloth covering your face before you follow him through the shattered door. He makes a quick pass across the store, checking down every aisle to make sure you're the only ones in here. After getting the all-clear, you walk to the opposite end of the store, moving up and down the aisles filling your backpack and duffle with anything you deem as a necessity. It's a cruel kind of race to see which will last the longest – your food or the Upside-Down.

Pushing a few cans around on the shelf, you search for the ones that haven't gotten puffy. The zipper on your duffle will never close, but you slip another can of SpaghettiOs in any way, knowing that Steve likes them. Your arms already ache with the thought of carrying all this back to the cottage.

"I'm done," you call out, lugging your bags to the front of the store, where you leave them to search for Steve. Typically much quicker, he's usually by the door tapping his foot, impatient for you to finish. Today you find him between the moldy bread and crackers, boxes of open Twinkies strewn all over the floor, and loaded bags at his feet.

"What are you doing?" You ask, catching him frowning down at the open box in his hands, its contents a putrid green.

"These things are supposed to last forever," he grumbles, tossing the box over his shoulder and reaching for another.

"You don't even like Twinkies, Steve," you point out, amused by the intensity of his search.

He throws another box on the floor and stops with his hands on his hips, looking at you. "Yeah, but you do."

He's trying. The muscle in the center of your chest swells, pushing against your rib cage, feeling too big for such a small space as its rhythm changes like a record skipping to a new song. Your feet carry you towards him without your permission, a sudden shift catching you in the pull of his gravity. Your I'll Never list has just shortened by one–you have definitely lost your head for this boy.

"It's the last box." He picks it up from the otherwise empty shelf, turning it over in his hands before his gaze shifts to you. "I've got a good feeling about this one." His fingers slide beneath the edge of the cardboard breaking the glue. Opening the box, he thumbs threw the cellophane

packets with a sour look. Finally stopping when a devastating smile takes over his handsome face.

He pulls out a single package, letting the box with the rest fall to the floor. Holding up the pristine cakes proudly, he quirks his eyebrows at you, looking just as smug as when you laid eyes on his other package yesterday in the cave.

"Remind me never to bet against you, Harrington," you say, returning his smile.

He answers with a wink, tucking them away into the breast pocket of his vest. "We'll save these for later."

Later is a decadent concept when it may never come, but delaying will make it taste even sweeter. Your tongue darts out, wetting your lips, and his eyes linger there. He must know that, too.

“We should go.”

“Alright.” He retrieves his bags and accompanies you to the front of the store, where he waits for you to adjust the full backpack on your shoulders. The large glass windows begin to rattle in their frames, and a vibration runs under your feet.

“Shit.” Steve drops his duffle and reaches out to grab your shoulder as sounds of jars smashing and cans falling off the shelves fill the store. The tremor intensifies, sending you careening forward, falling against him. The weight in your pack adds to the force knocking you both to the ground. When you land on top of him the air is driven from your lungs. Strong arms wrap around you, holding you to his chest. One of the big grocery shelves tips over, starting a domino effect. A crack appears on the ground, widening as it lengthens, running straight toward you. Steve rolls you both away as it shoots past, leaving him on top. Then, as quickly as it started, it ends, everything goes still and quiet.

“Are you okay?” He asks a bit too loud, considering your face is inches from his. Sucking in panicked breaths, you manage to nod. He rolls off you onto his back and scrubs his face with both hands. “That was intense. The quakes are getting worse,” he says, trying to regulate his own breathing as the adrenaline leaves him.

“I think I’ve had enough shopping for one day,” you quip.

“Me too,” he chuckles beside you. “Let’s get out of here.”

The street outside Bradley's didn’t fare any better than inside the store. The fissure that started inside zig zags across the road leaving the building across the street torn in two, collapsing into a deep chasm. A look shared between you is easy to interrupt–you were lucky.

The destruction means you can’t travel the same route you used to get there, taking you further into a section of town that was already crumbling. Smoke filling the air from the nearby fire mixes with the low-lying mist that is a permanent resident here, making it harder to see more than a few meters ahead. You're shifting your duffle from one arm to the other when Steve's arm shoots out across your body, halting you in your tracks. With his other hand, he brings his index finger to his lips, then points ahead of you.

Three full-grown Demodogs are becoming visible through the fog, their attention drawn to something squirming between them. Their horrible petal mouths are open, jaws snapping and tearing at the whining creature they're feeding from. Steve hands you his duffle and reaches over his shoulder for the spiked bat sticking out of his pack. He points at an alleyway up ahead and motions for you to follow. Your eyes widen, and you shake your head no, tilting your head back in the direction you came. No, he mouths, pointing at the alley, Trust me. But your gaze moves back to the monsters, the wet squelching of their mouths louder in your ears. He steps in front of you, one hand cupping your jaw, tilting your chin towards him. Trust me, he mouths again. This time you nod, comforted by the deep hazel of his eyes.

A small smile is your confirmation. The warmth of his hand leaves your face as he turns away from you and takes a few steps toward the alley, looking over his shoulder to make sure you're following. Ice water has replaced your blood, your heart pumps overtime sending it through your veins, making each step forward a struggle. There's a voice screaming for you to turn around and run, but you trust Steve, so you follow.

Their growls and chitters drown out the sound of your footfalls as you approach the mouth of the alley. As you round the corner, you catch a glimpse of what they're eating. Fear rushes over you in a dark, suffocating wave, the slick gray spotted body of another dog torn open, washed in its own blood. Your hands start to shake, and nausea sets in. The fog seems to permeate your mind. Every line of thought frays at the ends, leaving the one terrible inescapable truth repeating.

This is the end. This is the end. This is the end.

The ashen color that replaced the glow on your skin is one that Steve is familiar with, along with the blank look and the awkward movements of your steps. You’re going into shock. He had seen it happen enough with the others to recognize the signs. He grips your arm above your elbow and steers you down the alley, needing to get you away in case your feet stop cooperating altogether.

After crossing a few more streets, the smoke starts to thin. There is less damage to this section of town. The rasp that accompanies your breaths is making him nervous. He pries his duffle from your grip, slinging it over his shoulder so he can wrap his arm around your waist, drawing you closer.

“You're okay,” he soothes, “We’re both alright. I’ll get you out of here—just breathe through your nose. Pull down your bandana.”

Relief floods him when you reach up with one hand and yank it off your face. “Good girl. Keep breathing nice and steady. I’m right here with you,” he says, hurrying you along. The streets have become residential, and he directs you through a maze of neighborhoods and backyards, recognizing spots where he played as a child. No, not here. This isn’t home, he thinks, spotting the collection of cracked and broken garden gnomes on Mr. Larson’s front lawn. It’s a nightmare, a cheap knock-off, and as he looks toward the horizon, he realizes nothing could ever replace the real Indiana sky.

The outlines of the angry storm clouds are still evident even as the dim light fades into the velvet of night, but the flashes of red have been replaced by a smooth, rolling emerald light mixing with pinks and violets—an aurora caused by the gasses being released as the atmosphere cracks. Dustin. That little shit. He was right. It’s happening just as he had warned Steve it would. He wishes he could tell him.

He glances at you and sees your eyes fixed on the display above, your breathing faltering. Pulling you against him a little tighter, he quickens his pace.

"No, Steve. Stop," you say, planting your feet, "Just stop."

Your voice startles him. It feels like he hasn't heard it for so long. He lets you pull away and watches as you drop your duffle to the ground.

"Didn’t you see? They were eating each other?" Standing in the near darkness, you rub the ache from your arm.

"I know," he says in a calm voice.

"You know what that means.” The look on your face is one of resignment.

“Don't think about that right now, okay?” He steps closer, wanting to touch you, but runs a hand through his hair instead. “We need to get back to the cottage. We'll be safe there.”

“Safe?”

“I can protect you there.” He gestures in the direction of the woods. The little house is not far now. The disbelief in your voice is making him feel out of control. You’ve never doubted him, and he needs your faith now more than ever. “I'll close the shutters, and we'll move some furniture in front of the doors.”

“Steve,” your tone is feather-light, both hands land on his chest, one smoothing to his shoulder, “There are some things I want you to know-”

“No,” he cuts you off, pushing at your hands with no real force.

Circling his neck, you pull his head down until his forehead is pressed against yours. “You’ve been so brave and strong. I’m so grateful.”

"Stop. Don't talk like that." He straightens up and cups your jaw tilting you back to look into your eyes.

“You deserve to kn-”

“No, not yet. This isn’t the end. It can’t be.” He came to this place ready to die, but you made him take the risk and keep living. He’s not ready to give up and won’t let you either. “I need more time. I'm just figuring it out.”

“What is it?” you ask, gripping his wrist, “What are you figuring out?” The thick cover of clouds has thinned, no match for the colors dancing all around you. He can see their brightness gleaming in your eyes.

“That you're all I need.”

It's not a choice anymore when his lips press against yours. It's just something that is, like the rain or a season. It comes whether it's beckoned or not. He feels a little foolish that he was ever unsure when you kiss him back like you've been his from the start. Always so busy trying to be the hero he almost missed it when someone saved him in return.

Fingers wandering along your jaw, he swallows your sighs and your air, your want until he feels your hands wrapping around his waist, pulling him close, then he gives it right back. The world around you passes in a blur while tongues and swollen lips move languid and deep. This is where he lives now, in this kiss. All along, you've been his reward, and now that he's claimed you, he won't ever let go. He would've stayed here forever until your soft whisper between a series of broken-up kisses.

"Steve, take me home."

The cottage is quiet until you hear the first bang of the shutters being closed, followed by the slide of the bolt. After leaving the bags of food in the kitchen, you stand in the living room wiping your palms on the front of your jeans, counting each strike of the wood against the walls as Steve moves around the outside of the house, knowing that each one is bringing him closer to coming through the front door. Your fingers touch your kiss-stung lips, still feeling how his mouth pressed against yours, creating a loop of electricity, passing from him into you, making your heart glow like a bulb, lighting up every secret place inside you until you had nowhere left to hide the truth. You've completely fallen for him.

He walks inside, his eyes seeking out yours. A lock of hair falls over his brow as his lips turn upward, and he reaches for you. A hand on your waist, the other gripping your chin tilting your face to catch your bottom lip between his.

"Help me move this." He kisses you once more before motioning you to the other end of the heavy oak credenza. It scrapes and catches against the wood-planked floor, but you manage to wedge it up against the door.

The tension feels thicker than the fog rolling over the dry lake bed when you're finally closed in together. His flashlight clicks on, casting a dim beam in the direction of the bedroom. Eyes on each other, you wait to see who will be the first to crack—it's you. Taking his hand with a gentle pull, you lead him down the hall. The uneven floor creaks as you shuffle into the bedroom, letting go of his hand, you stop at the foot of the bed and wait. It's his turn now.

Your fingers fist the cuffs of your sweatshirt while he goes about his routine. Flashlight on top of the dresser. Bat leaning by the door. Knife and Barretta on the nightstand, and then his heavy backpack hits the floor, followed by his jacket and vest. He sneaks glances at you the entire time, checking for signs that you’ve changed your mind, but you’ve never been more sure.

“You left the flashlight on,” you remind him when he moves into your space. He has been like that since you met, always standing a little too close. This whole wide world all to yourselves, and he was never more than a few inches away.

“I want to see you,” he admits. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," comes out breathy as his thumb traces across your cheek. Remembering the way the water dripped down his chest in the cave has you hoping the batteries will last.

His head dips to capture your lips in a slow wet slide while his hands cradle your jaw, angling your head to take the kiss deeper. Dreamy minutes tick by, his attention never leaving your mouth. His controlled pace makes you feel needy and wanton. When you feel the sharp edge of his teeth against your lip, you know you aren't alone. Hands slide down your nape, across your shoulders, skimming down your sides. Fingers coming to rest in the hem of your sweatshirt.

"Can I take this off?"

You're so lightheaded it takes seconds to respond. Nodding your head and raising your arms toward the beamed ceiling. His hands grip the layers of material, riding you of them all at once instead of one at a time. The gold in his eyes turns molten as they pass over every curve and line he's uncovered. His knuckles turn white, fisting your shirt, and how he looks at you makes your knees a bit weak. Pulling your clothes from his hands, you let them fall to the floor.

"You're so goddamn pretty," he says, barely louder than a whisper.

"I know," you tease, earning you an easy smile and his hands on your waist, drawing you close. His head drops to your neck, chuckling against your skin, making your whole body break out in shivers.

"You're funny." His lips move on your skin before placing a wet kiss on a spot that has your toes curling inside your boots. "There were a couple of times I had to try really hard not to laugh.”

“I-I knew…you were holding out on me, Harrington,” you stammer as he moves to the spot below it.

“I wanted you to keep trying,” he says, adding gentle suction.

Whatever you were going to say comes out in a whine, but it was probably something like, please don't stop. He continues down to your collarbone, hands stroking up your back, releasing the catch on your bra. Letting the strap fall down your shoulders, you pull it out from between you as his mouth reaches the swell of your breast. Warm hands cup you as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, the sensation shooting straight to your core.

“Steve,” you beg when he switches to the other side, not knowing if you want him to stop or give you more. Tugging him up by the collar, you crash your lips into his, but he slows you down with the backs of his fingers along your cheeks and a kiss so gentle it makes you want to cry. He walks you backward until your butt hits the mattress, and he leans forward, laying you down carefully until you're leaning on your elbows. With another soft press of his mouth, Steve straightens and sighs, looking down at you spread out for him.

“I would never have stopped,” you say when he lifts your foot and presses it against his thigh to loosen your laces. He swallows hard, nodding in understanding before he goes back to removing your boots and socks. This feels so different. He's making it different, taking care of every part of you like he wants it all.

Your fingers find their way into the gaps of the knitted afghan you're lying on while you watch him take off his boots and shirt. A dark patch of hair starts at the center of his chest and fans out. Even in this dark place, his skin looks golden. This is really happening. A flutter of nerves mixes with tingles of arousal.

His knee hits the edge of the bed, and you inch back toward the center as he crawls over you, settling into the cradle of your thighs. Skin finally meeting skin, you each release identical sighs.

"I should have kissed you when we were in the cave," he says, lips ghosting a path along your cheek.

"It's okay." Your eyes are heavy-lidded as you run your hands over the dips in his spine, enjoying the feel of him. "You're kissing me now."

"I should have kissed you every day." He places a kiss on the corner of your mouth before pulling back and smoothing the hair at your temples. "I'm sorry I wasted so much time."

"Steve," you cradle his jaw, "You were worth the wait." Your whole life, you've been waiting for him, and the way he's kissing you now, you'd have waited even longer. Every kiss is a poem—pretty words printed on lips and tongues. Every touch is a story all its own.

He toys with the button on your jeans. Your zipper being lowered sounds like a needle dragging across a record. Moving onto his knees, he drags the denim down your legs, kissing each hip and your soaked panty-covered center before removing those too.

Kneeling to join him, your mouth finds the sharp line of his stubbled jaw. He groans, head tipping back, giving you better access to place soft, gentle bites along the column of his throat while your hands open his belt and pants. When you look down, the broad head of his cock is already pushing through the band of his boxers. Grabbing both layers, you ease them off his hips. He helps by pushing them the rest of the way down his legs, sending them to the floor with a kick.

Bared to each other in the yellow glow of the flashlight, you can feel the pages flipping by. Time is a luxury, but you won’t rush to the end. Laying down beside each other, you explore everything you've uncovered. In this moment, he’s yours. It feels decadent to touch him—a layer of softness over lean muscle. You’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.

His hands slide over you, warming your skin, molding to each curve. Every inch of you is admired. When his fingers move between your legs, your vision gets hazy, stars bursting at the edges. He spreads slickness through your folds while his lips stay pressed against yours. The warm blanket of pleasure becomes hotter, heavier—you grip his forearm with a shaking hand.

“Don’t be scared,” he says against your lips, “Tonight is for us.”

“I’m not scared,” you reply, pulling him closer, you can’t think of any place safer than in his arms.

“Why are you trembling?” He asks, brows pulling together.

“Because I’ve never wanted anything this much.”

Your legs fall open as he positions himself between them, lining up with your entrance. No doubts that you both are ready. He's slow and gentle with his first push inside you. Your body stretches and takes, then stretches and takes some more. He's about halfway when you can't help but clench around him, and he thrusts forward with a moan. Your back arches involuntarily, feeling fuller than you've ever been before.

"Sorry." He nudges you with his nose.

"Don't apologize." You kiss wherever you can reach. "Do it again."

He chuckles, and his hips flex enough to have your breath catching, still getting used to his size.

"You feel so good." His eyes briefly close as your walls flutter around him, and he begins to move in slow, shallow strokes. "Like you're made for me, honey."

You're starting to think maybe you were. Maybe you were made for each other. He drops to his forearms, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, bringing his mouth back to yours. His hand slides over your hip and down your thigh, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist so can bury himself deeper. He rocks into you with a steady pace, gazes locked, trading sighs, impossible to be any closer. The ache in your heart swells, spreading through you. A tear spills over your lash line, it's too much for you to contain.

"I love you," you whisper as he wipes it with his thumb. "I thought you should know."

His movements still. He stares down at you and swallows hard, trying to loosen the tightness in his throat. "Tell me again."

"I love you."

Taking your hand, he holds it against the center of his chest. His heart beats against your palm. He's been telling you this whole time. He smiles, and it feels brighter than the sun. Your hand stays pressed against the warm skin over his heart as his head dips, sealing his soft lips to yours.

His kiss is filled with words left unsaid and unrestrained desire. Your hips roll involuntarily, desperate for friction as you whimper into his mouth. He breaks away with a scrape of teeth and hungry eyes.

"I need you," he mumbles, lifting your hips to change the angle. His hand grips the back of your thigh, pushing it toward your chest, using it as leverage as he drives into you with smooth deep rolling thrusts. Jolts of white-hot pleasure bloom from your core and radiate to every cell when he finds that switch inside you. The one that has you crying out. The one that didn’t exist before him. You’re not surprised. He’s good at everything he does.

“That’s it, honey. I want to hear all those pretty noises.” His fingers tighten, pressing into the plush of your thigh as his hips snap forward. The smacks of skin on skin become the baseline for your harmony of moans and pleas. Your heels dig into his backside as your hips rise to meet his thrusts. The chill in the room does nothing to calm the heat between you or the sheen of sweat covering your bodies.

"Steve...I–"

Threads of love and pleasure weave together until they're a single silken cord pulling taunt inside you. He releases your thigh, working his hand between you, his thumb circling your slick clit.

"Please, baby. I want to feel you cum."

The rasp in his voice. The desperate look on his face. You're his, and there's nothing you'd deny him. The cord snaps with you crying out his name, pulsing around him, fingers digging into the muscles that cap his shoulders. Euphoria crests in big surges that go on and on as he thrusts lose their tempo. He groans as warmth starts to fill you, painting your walls white with his release.

He eases onto you, and you take his weight cradling him to your chest.

"I love you. I love you. I love you," you whisper, maybe too low for him to hear, your hands smooth over his back while your legs wrap tightly around him. He kisses along your temple before taking your face in his hands.

"I don't regret a single decision that led me to you."

For an instant, you live a lifetime that could have been in each other's eyes. Then his head lowers, and your eyes close. Tender kisses turn hot, and he’s hard inside you. Distant howls echo through the dead trees while strange winds rattle the shutter of the cottage, but both go unnoticed as you claim the night as yours. Each time he has you, the need for each other only grows. After your bodies have given each other everything there is to give, sleep steals you away a few hours before the light changes.

He's still holding you when the vibrations send the bedside lamp crashing to the floor. Wisps of smoke curl in the air when you wake up in the hazy room with a burning throat and begin coughing. Steve grabs your arm and pulls you from the bed. He braces one arm against the door frame and holds you against his chest with the other. The tremors increase. The sounds of falling things and breaking dishes mix with the rumbling of the earth. A crack forms at the bottom of the far wall and runs diagonally toward the ceiling. A scream rips from your dry throat when the window explodes into a shower of glass, and smoke pours into the room.

“We’ve gotta get out now,” Steve yells when the quake abruptly stops. “Get dressed and grab what you can.”

Grabbing your crumpled jeans from the floor, you slide them over your hips and shove your feet into your boots. Your sweatshirt sticks out from under the bed, and when you kneel to grab it, the black metal handle of the Baretta catches your eye. Steve has finished dressing and is grabbing his pack and bat when you finish pulling the sweatshirt over your head.

“Come on,” he says, holding out his hand for you to take. He leads you into the living room, where half the ceiling has collapsed, spoiling any chance of you moving the heavy credenza that blocks the front door.

“The window,” you cry, backtracking into the bedroom with Steve right behind you. He lifts you through the broken frame but is left with no choice other than to grip the window frame to climb out. Jagged glass slicing his hand in the process.

“Your hand.” Your fingers circle his wrist, trying to assess the damage.

“It’s alright,” he says, pulling a bandana from his pocket and squeezing it into his fist,“We have to go.” His injured hand goes around your shoulder, turning you away from the cottage. Blood flows through the gaps of his fingers, dripping onto your sweatshirt as he keeps you tucked into his side.

The dense, acrid smoke makes finding your way through the trees hard. Smoldering twigs and vines rain down all around you, igniting piles of dry leaves on the forest floor. Your mouth opens with a gasp when your eyes turn skyward to see the treetops blazing and the billows of rolling red and orange flames that have replaced the dark clouds, completely consuming the atmosphere. The smoke thins as you make it out of the woods and into the open center of the dry lake.

Hot tears pour from your eyes, leaving streaks of soot down your face, and you can't stop coughing, trying to clear your distressed lungs. The quarter-full canteen from Steve’s pack is pressed into your hands.

“Drink it,” he rasps, coughing and spitting the black from his lungs.

Twisting the top, you gulp it, careful to drink only half. He shakes his head when you hold it out to him, but you take his hand and wrap it around the bottle, not giving him a choice. With an annoyed look, he finishes the water.

“What do we do?” you ask, panicked, watching his head turn back and forth, trying to decide the best course of action. The smoke and fog make it hard to see more than fifty feet in any direction. He looks down at your alarmed face, the sorrow in his eyes giving you his answer.

No. It can't be over. Pressing the heels of your hands to your forehead, you wrack your brain for any answer.

"The cave," you grasp his arms, pleading.

"Is it deep enough?" He asks, the doubt written on his face.

"I-I don't know." You shake your head with fresh tears filling your eyes.

His face hardens in determination. "Let's go."

Hands locked together, you race through the tangle of vines covering the limestone bed toward the other side of the lake, where the cave is tucked into the side of a hill just beyond the edge of the woods. Glancing back over your shoulder, you can see a wall of flames has crashed like a wave engulfing the houses and the little cottage cutting you off from the way back to town. The smoke thickens as the wind picks up, shortening your field of vision and slowing you down.

"Almost there," Steve reassures as you do your best to keep up with his long strides.

You doubt your ears when you first hear it, thinking it's just a tree snapping and the roar of the fire. It's the high pitch chittering that has terror creeping up your spine. Its outline becomes visible through the smoke. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Petal mouth in full bloom. Your body freezes in place. Your grip on Steve’s hand tightens like a vice.

“Stay behind me,” he tells you, shaking his hand from your clasp as the monster comes into full view. It limps forward, smoke rising from charred skin covering half its body, its damaged clawed limb hanging loosely at its side—sticky strings of saliva drip from its rows of teeth.

Steve waves a hand behind him, motioning for you to stay back while he steps forward with caution. He plants his feet, twirling the bat before catching it with his other hand, holding it up high over his shoulder. His fingers open and close around the handle to adjust his grip. A low growl vibrates the flaps of its open mouth as the thing keeps moving forward.

“We don’t have to do this,” Steve says in a low, calm voice, “You’re already hurt. Just let us walk on by.”

You’re astonished when the monster stops, like maybe it understood him, and for a heartbeat, you think it may have listened.

It charges forward with a deafening roar, claw swiping at Steve's head. Missing when Steve drops into a low batter’s crouch, swinging his bat and connecting with the burned half of its abdomen. It shrieks when the nails tear through its flesh. Black blood pouring from the wound. Steve gives it no time to recover. Hitting it again and again, driving the thing back. It howls, disappearing into the smoke.

Your pulse is drumming in your ears as everything goes quiet. Steve stands there, elbow up, ready to swing. Trees pop and crackle as the fire spreads through the woods. Your eyes strain, trying to see into the smoke, but there's nothing. Adrenaline starts to dissipate, and Steve's arm comes down slowly. He glances over his shoulder, giving you a smug smile, and you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

It pounces from the fog, screeching. Backhanding Steve, sending him flying. He hits the ground hard, rolling, trying to get to his feet, but the monster is already too close, on all fours, ready to strike.

"No!" you scream, drawing its attention. Reaching back, your hand closes over the grip of the Barretta tucked into your jeans. The thing looks at you, and you fire. The bullet punches through the burnt skin of its shoulder. With an ear-splitting scream, it gallops toward you. Your finger squeezes the trigger in rapid succession. Unloading the clip. Missing more than you hit. Its claw rips through your forearm, knocking the gun from your hand. Clutching your arm, you fall backward onto your butt, trying to inch away.

It knows it has you now. Dropping to all fours, it slowly crawls over you, drooling onto your clothes. It blows its wet breath into your face as it chitters. Your stomach rolls at the stench, and your eyes flutter close as it rears back to strike.

Wetness splatters your face. The axe head is logged halfway into the back of the monster's thick neck. With a gurgle, the thing falls to its side. With your good arm and feet, you scurry backward away from it. Blood runs down the side of Steve's face from where the skin is split open on his forehead. Breathing hard, he stomps his boot onto the shoulder of the creature. There's a wet sucking sound as he pulls the axe from its neck. He grunts, bringing it down over and over until the monster's head is separated from its body.

The axe clangs when it hits the ground. Steve wipes the blood from his eyes with the back of his hands. It’s too much, you want to be brave for him, but you can’t hold back the tears.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he says in a soft voice helping you to your feet, “Don’t cry.” He wraps his blood-soaked bandana around your arm and pulls you into his chest. “You’re alright.”

Your hands wrap around his waist, dipping under his shirt so you can feel his smooth skin under your fingers while he rubs reassuring circles up and down your back as your teardrops darken the leather of his jacket.

"Aren't you glad you taught me to shoot?" you ask, sniffing into his shoulder, smiling when you feel his chest vibrating with laughter.

"I guess it came in handy after all," he says with his lips kissing along your temple.

"You saved me, Steve."

"I didn't–"

"You did."

"I didn't, but I wish I had."

"Look at me." He cradles your jaw to tip your head back, and the small motion leaves you dizzy. As you stand in each other's embrace, the haze and smoke have thickened.

“You’re beautiful.” His thumb rubs along your cheek, and you laugh, knowing you're covered with soot and gore. “You are, and you deserve to know.”

“Thank you,” you say, knowing why he’s telling you. While you fought off the monster, the blaze swept through the woods, leaving walls of fire surrounding the lake. The vines covering the bed have started to catch. Soon the flames on the ground will flare higher, joining the fiery sky. The planet will heat and explode. The two of you will become bright lights in the cosmos. Constellations. Star dust. Souls forever wandering the galaxies.

"I love you," he tells you with tears in his eyes, "I do. I love you."

"I love you too." Your throat burns with the effort to speak.

"Close your eyes."

Your eyes close as his head dips and his soft lips press against yours. His hand slides to the back of your neck and you cling to him. Trading breaths, tongues dancing.

This kiss is a thousand words.

This kiss is goodbye.

The heat is at your back and through your closed eyes the light gets brighter. His grip on you tightens before the kiss breaks and you hear him calling out your name. When you look for him, it's too bright to see, like you're staring into the sun. His hands slip as he's pulled away from you, sliding over your shoulders and arms until you're connected by just your fingertips.

"No. El." His voice comes from far away. Echoing down a tunnel. "Not without her."

"Steve," you scream as his fingers slip away. "Steve!" But you're alone with the howl of the wind and the taste of smoke in your mouth. Your hands come up to shield your face as the light gets brighter, and then there's nothing.

Part 3 Here

AN: So what do you think is in store for these two? Are they going to make it? Thanks to everyone who took the time to comment & reblog Part 1. Writing this fic has been challenging, so the comments meant a lot. But even if you're shy and don't like to comment but still took the time to read I'm still very grateful. My asks are always open, (Anon or Not) Do me a soild and reblog if you liked it. 💋 -Jelly

Another big thanks to @myeuphoricmindset for letting me adapt her concept.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfiction #if tomorrow never comes

279 notes · View notes

rius-cave · 2 months

Note

Disguise AU

How and when would their first real date be like??

Or would they even see eachother after that hot night?

My thoughts are that Adam would wake up completely hangover either in his couch or either in an hotel room -though I doubt they would go THAT far the night they met- with a note next to him, it has a phone number and says ‘Call me handsome’

See, I think my answer is heavily influenced by something I read or watched once (probably some yaoi manga idk) but I don't really remember what lol, here's what I think:

They absolutely had sex the first night. If it had just been some heavy make out sessions, Adam wouldn't have freaked out as much skfkgksgd.

I think they probably start making out, then Lucifer, being just a bit tipsy, asks Adam if he wants to come to his hotel room. Adam, who is absolutely smashed, says yeah sure whatever just keep touching me. They probably do some hand stuff in the car because Adam literally can't keep his hands to himself and is drunkenly horny lol. And then yes, they go to Lucifer's hotel room and cut to black and all that.

Next day I reckon Adam had a freakout and storms out, leaving Lucifer very confused and also a tad disappointed and sad.

There's a couple days, maybe even weeks, with Adam just going back and forth with "WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO" and "holy shit that was the best night of my life" and "IM NEVER FUCKING DOING THAT AGAIN" until of course, he starts going down again lol, and if he's conveniently going to the same bar where he met the stranger each and every time, well... That's just a coincidence, promise.

However, Lucifer never shows up, leaving Adam feeling like an idiot for thinking it was possible to meet him again, he tries hooking up with other people, women, but it's just not as great.

Until of course one day he sees him there again, and debates another good 20 minutes if he should talk to him or not. He finally walks up to him.

He half explains himself on why he ran out, and Lucifer is understanding and says not to worry about it etc etc, they were drunk bla bla. Lucifer says he can't stay that night cause he has some business to attend to, but gives Adam his card and tells him to ring him sometime.

It takes Adam another good while to actually call him lol. I think they'd have a pretty normal date, though neither of them call it that. Can't really decide what they'd do for their date in this context, maybe Lucifer surprises him by going to a concert with VIP seats, idk, something that only rich people could do lol.

They have a great fucking time and connect really well, for a second Adam thinks, hey, this is not even gay! Maybe I was just really drunk off my ass! This guy is just fun to hang out with...... And then a couple hours later they're making out again and having a quick one in some alleyway or whatever lololol

Honestly, I could go on forever, but this is already long and if I keep going I'll end up wanting to make it a comic and I can't afford that right now LMAO

If you guys crave more from this AU, Dedmerath is going to be making a comic on her Patreon!! Go support her, she's super awesome!

#no i did not rip off the same first date idea i had a while ago i dont know what youre talking about #I JUST LOVE THEM HAVING A CONCERT DATE OK #hazbin hotel #adamsapple #ask

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q-gorgeous · 5 months

Text

Ghosts and Butterflies

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 2645

Danny thought being half-ghost would give him a higher tolerance for alcohol. To his horror, it does the exact opposite, and he wakes up the day after his first college party with hazy memories, a ring on his finger, and one Dash Baxter passed out on his dorm room floor. @kinglazrus

ehehehhehehehhe

Danny groaned as he woke up. His head was killing him and his stomach was rolling. What happened last night? He couldn’t remember.

He sat up and rubbed a hand over his face. He stopped as he felt something graze over his skin. Pulling his hand back he opened his eyes. There on his hand was a blue… wedding band?

“What the fuck?” Danny stared at his hand, bewildered.

All he knew was that he went to his first college party last night. He’d had a couple drinks but he can’t remember anything past that. He thought his ghost half would make his tolerance to alcohol higher, but it seemed to have the opposite effect, if his memory and the blasting headache was anything to go by.

He heard a groan coming from his floor and he flew up. Trying to stand, his legs got tangled in his blankets. He tripped over himself and fell to the ground, right on top of the person on his dorm room floor. They let out another groan.

“What the fuck?”

Danny’s eyes opened wide. He took in the muscular chest he was laying on top of. He pushed himself up, hands on their muscular shoulders. When he pushed himself far enough away from them, he saw Dash Baxter laying on the floor of his dorm room underneath him.

“Dash? What are you doing in my dorm room?”

Dash opened his eyes and met Danny’s gaze. They furrowed as they scanned Danny’s face before they widened again. A blush rose to his cheeks and his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Do you remember anything?”

“Ahh.. No. My tolerance to alcohol is much less than I thought it’d be. I think I blacked out pretty early on. I don’t even remember seeing you at all last night.”

“Oh..”

“Yeah..” Danny sat back, trying to ignore the fact that he was sitting in Dash’s lap now. “But I do have a question about this.” He held up his left hand.

Dash stared at his hand and his blush grew deeper. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I assume you know what happened?”

“Oh, I uh, maybe know. A little of what happened.”

“Mind sharing then?” Danny really would like to know. How in the world could something like this happen in one night?

Dash nodded. “Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dash walked into the frat house. The party was already raging and he was kind of disappointed that he missed the first half, but that’s always the boring half anyways. The later it got, the better the party was.

He walked inside and imagine his surprise when he saw Danny Fenton dancing with a guy in this frat house’s living room.

He didn’t really take Fenton for a party animal, but he sure was going. He was dancing like he didn’t have a single care in the world.

Danny opened his eyes and saw Dash staring at him.

“Baxter!” He cheered. Dash rolled his eyes.

“You’re drunk.”

“And you’re late.”

Dash shrugged. “I’m fashionably late. That’s socially acceptable.”

“Come on, babe. Let’s keep dancing.”

Dash frowned as Danny turned back to his dancing partner. They got back into it and Dash made his way to the drinks table. He picked up a beer and took a drink out of it. He made his way back to the dance floor and found some people to dance with.

He was dancing with a girl from one of his classes for a bit. He stepped back to go get himself another drink.

Dash was knocked to the side when someone bumped into him.

“Sor’y.”

Fenton slurred as he walked past him. Dash looked at him as he walked away and a bad feeling made a pit in his stomach. He sighed and followed behind the two of them.

Fenton sat on the couch with the guy he had been dancing with earlier. His drink sloshed as he talked with his hands. He looked at someone who called his name and while Danny wasn’t looking, the guy he was sitting with tipped something into his drink. Dash frowned and stood up, making his way over to them.

“Hey, buddy.” Dash towered over the guy.

“What do you want?” The guy asked him. Danny looked over at him and then up at Dash.

“I want to dance with Danny. Want to finish his drink for him?”

The guy sat up straighter and stared at him. “Danny can finish his own drink if he wants. I don’t need it.”

“I don’t know.” Dash leaned down and plucked the cup out of Danny’s hand. “You sure seemed interested in customizing it for him. I figured maybe you’d want to try it yourself.”

Danny had an awed look on his face as he stared at Dash. He looked at the guy he was with. “Blake?”

Blake stood up and shoved Dash back as he started walking away from them. “How pathetic do you have to be anyways to try and drug someone who’s already wasted out of his ass?”

Dash threw the drink down on the floor and sat down next to Danny. He ignored the looks people were giving him and instead looked at Danny. He was still looking at Dash like he had picked up Danny’s whole world.

“You did that for me?”

Dash draped his arms across the back of the couch. “I couldn’t just let that guy drug you. Who knows what would have happened to you after.”

Danny placed a hand on his cheek and then kissed the other one. Dash looked at him.

“Thank yo’ for savin’ me.” Danny drawled out. Dash smiled. He stood up and held his hand out to Danny.

“Want to dance?”

A big smile spread on Danny’s face and he grabbed Dash’s hand. Before heading to the open space in the living room, Dash got each of them a new drink. He chugged his first one and got another before he dragged Danny to the dance floor.

They danced and drank and danced and drank some more. At some point they had made their way out of the center of the living room and were sitting on the floor in the corner away from everyone. The music was still blaring but for now, it was just them.

“Haha, they really dared you and Kwan to do that?” Danny asked, gesturing with his drink.

Dash rubbed the back of his neck. “Ha, yeah. We were in middle school. They thought it would be funny. It was kinda weird, Kwan’s not really my type.”

“Ya’h. That’s how I felt with Sam.” Danny slurred. “Like she’s cute and everything but I only really saw her as a friend. We on’y dated because everyone was telling us that’s what we were supposed to do.”

“Well if her spooky goth schtick wasn’t your type, then what is? I would’ve thought that’d be your thing.”

“Oh, my type?” Danny asked. “I, uh, I kinda-”

Dash stared at Danny as he stammered. Danny looked up to him and studied his face for a few moments. He looked like he came to some sort of conclusion.

Danny crawled the three feet to Dash and sat in his lap. Dash swallowed and looked up at Danny. He reached a hand up and rested it against Danny’s cheek. He leaned into it and closed his eyes. When Danny opened them again, he looked at Dash’s lips and leaned down.

Their lips met in a frenzy of heat and desperation. Dash brought up his other hand and tried to pull Danny even closer while Danny ran his fingers through his hair. It sent shivers down his spine and he tilted his head. Danny made a noise and butterflies erupted in Dash’s stomach. Soon Danny was pulling away for air. They were both out of breath.

What was he doing?

Danny wasn’t going to remember any of this tomorrow morning. Not with how wasted he was. Did Danny actually want him like this?

Danny leaned back down to kiss Dash again but he pushed him back.

“I- I’m sorry.” Dash said softly. “Not like this. Not when you’re wasted out of your mind.”

Danny frowned. “But if I want to-”

“You can find me when you’re sober if you really want to. Come on, let’s get you back to your dorm. You need to sleep this off.”

“I don’ wan’ ta go.” Danny grumbled as Dash pulled him by his hand to stand.

“Too bad. I’m gonna make sure you get home safely.”

Danny groaned and Dash pulled him by his hand out of the house. Dash’s brain was still swimming with alcohol himself. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it back to his own dorm tonight.

“I don’ wan’ to walk.” Danny said as he followed behind Dash. Suddenly he stopped. His head shot up and when Dash turned to look at him, he could see the metaphorical lightbulb as Danny had an idea. “Wait, no, I dun’ have to walk.”

“Danny, I am not carrying-”

Dash was interrupted by a flash of white light that momentarily blinded him. He threw his arm up in front of his face but peeked past it.

A ring of light had appeared around Danny’s waist. What was that? Danny surely couldn’t be performing magic tricks while he was this drunk.

The ring separated into two and traveled over his body. Dash’s face flushed as the rings revealed a very familiar jumpsuit in between them. They passed his head and feet and he lifted off the ground and moved to float on his back.

Danny Phantom? Danny had been Phantom this whole time?

“This’s much easier.”

“What-” Dash watched as Danny floated along the sidewalk towards the dorms. How was this even possible?

Danny whined. “Will you at least stay at my dorm with me? No more kissi’g. I promise.” Danny held a hand to his chest and held the other one up, brandishing the… Girl Scout’s hand sign?

Dash could feel his resolution slipping. Danny was Phantom. His gay awakening. Could he really say no? Did he want to?

“... or…” Danny drawled. “We could do even more kissing.”

Danny floated up to Dash and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. His brain was short circuiting and the alcohol was not helping. This was something out of his wildest fantasies. Phantom. Phantom asking to kiss him. Making out with Phantom.

His resolve broke and Dash pulled Danny’s lips down to his own. This kiss was sloppy and hot but also sort of awkward because any time he tried to press closer to Danny he’d just push him backwards in the air.

“So… mor’ kissi’g?” Danny drawled out when Dash pulled away for air.

“I- I don’t want to take advantage of your when you’re this drunk.” Dash said as he caught his breath.

Danny smiled at him and flipped upside down on his back. “Y’ure drunk too.”

“Not as much as you are.”

Danny whined. “I’ve been waiting like one third of- of my life to kiss you, and now y’u want to be a chivalrous man-”

“Wait, what-” Dash did a double take at him.

“-and wait till I’m sober but all I want to do is smooch.”

“One third of your life?” Dash whispered.

Danny floated backwards towards Dash upside down and kissed him again. Dash kissed him back and pulled away a moment later.

“If we’re going to do this, I want to do this right.” Dash whispered. “Let’s wait until you’re sobered up.”

Danny whined as Dash started pulling him through the air behind him towards the dorms. “Will you at least stay the night with me?”

Dash chuckled. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to make to your dorm and then to my own. My head is swimming pretty bad right now.”

Danny cheered and flipped back over so he was floating on his stomach. Dash let go of his wrist as he reached forward and wrapped his arms around Dash’s shoulders, letting himself be pulled through the air as Dash walked. He rested his head on Dash’s right shoulder.

“I hope I remember this.” Danny whispered.

“Is there anything you want to do to remind you of it even if you can’t remember?” Dash asked him.

Danny hummed. After a moment of thinking he gasped. He cupped his hands together in front of Dash and a blue glow emanated from them. Dash watched in awe. Phantom didn’t normally use his ice powers during fights so it was always a treat to see them.

Danny pulled his hands apart and sitting in his palm were two blue rings. He picked one up and slipped it on his own finger. Then he made grabby motions to Dash. He lefted his hand up and Danny slid the other ring onto his own finger.

“Rings?” Dash asked as he looked at it.

“I can’t not notice that when I wake up in the morning.” Danny wrapped his arms around Dash’s shoulders again. “If you’re there in the morning I’ll prob’bly ask you about it.”

Dash smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

He could feel Danny smile against his neck. “Good.”

Danny placed a kiss against the back of Dash’s neck.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I transformed in front of you?” Danny whispered.

“Yep.” Dash nodded.

“And I kissed you?”

Dash shrugged. “I also kissed you.”

Danny leaned forward until his head was leaning on Dash’s chest. “I can’t believe I did all that. I thought being half ghost would make me more tolerant to alcohol, not the other way around.”

“There is one thing we have to talk about.” Dash said.

“There is?”

“Yep.” Dash looked at him straight in the eyes. “Your taste in men. Blake? Really?”

Danny snorted. “Like you’re much better.”

“I at least wasn’t trying to drug you while you were already wasted out of your mind.” Dash rolled his eyes. “That’s gotta be a big step up. A pretty big one considering you’ve apparently wanted to kiss me for like a third of your life?”

Danny groaned again and started pulling away but Dash grabbed his wrist. He pulled him back.

“I didn’t say that was bad. I am here, aren’t I?”

Danny looked away from him. “Are you only here because you found out I’m Phantom?”

“What?” Dash looked confused.

“You hated me back in high school. I never thought you’d feel like that for me. So is it just because I’m Phantom? Because everyone always knew you adored him.”

Dash’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, I- You kissed me before that. I kissed you the first time not knowing you were Phantom. I didn’t want to take advantage of you but you being Phantom just made it harder to keep my resolve.”

“How many times did we kiss last night?” Danny whispered.

“Uh..” Dash started thinking. “You kissed me on the cheek when I got Blake to leave. We kissed once on the living room floor of the frat house. A couple times on the walk here. And-”

Danny covered his face. “And I don’t get to remember any of them?”

Dash barked out a laugh. “That’s what you’re worried about? Not whether or not I was taking advantage of you?”

“You literally saved my life, I don’t have to worry about that.”

“So you don’t mind that I kissed you?” Dash asked, leaning forward and propping himself up with his arms.

“No. Not particularly.” Danny said leaning forward. He placed his hands back on Dash’s shoulders. “I probably enjoyed it.”

Dash hummed, looking at his lips. “I think you did. You kept asking for more.”

“Are you going to give me what I want?”

Dash sat up the rest of the way and placed a kiss on Danny’s lips. They smiled into it and kissed again.

#gorgi writes #danny phantom #dash baxter #danny fenton #drug mention #swagger bishie #fanfiction #phic phight 2024 #fanfic #fic #phic

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concreteburialplot · 1 year

Text

Virality // 06*

06 - Whiplash*

summary/masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3

word count: 3.5k

cw: smut, alcohol, weed, fingering, drunken (consensual, protected) sex, kinda intense ruffilo 👀, 18+ MDNI

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc

a/n: don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :) future chapters w smut will have a * by the title

VALLIE

Nicholas and I get Noah onto his feet and practically carry him to his room which thankfully is on the first floor. Since Nick and I are also pretty drunk we sort of just plop him on his messy bed and set some water and ibuprofen on his nightstand.

Even though I’m crossfaded, it doesn’t stop me from observing his room. It’s what you’d expect, posters everywhere, a gaming chair with two monitors, striped navy sheets, but he at least has a bed frame. It reeks of weed, cigarettes, and sweat. What throws me off the most is how filthy the room is – I never expect a man’s room to be immaculate, but this is a disaster. There’s trash everywhere, crumpled soda cans, glass bottles, empty cigarette boxes, ash everywhere. His bed is full of mess too, piled with game controllers, books, rolling trays, lighters, a laptop, an ipad, and that’s just from the brief glance at it. The disarray takes up half of his entire bed and he is left with a sliver of mattress.

Nicholas carefully closes the door behind us like Noah is a baby he doesn’t want to wake. The house is empty, no boys, no music, nothing. “Do you have any more weed?” I blurt out, I need something and maybe smoking would help reign in my intoxication. He gives me a funny look with peaked brows. “What!” I ask playfully, still feeling the swirly buzz of alcohol spinning on my tongue.

“You just didn’t strike me as a smoker.” Giving me a small smirk before rounding the table, “It’s in the living room.” He gestures across the house and I follow closely behind. He snatches a glass jar and a neon green plastic bong from the bookshelf next to the TV then sits down on the couch, placing both items on the coffee table. “Folio is the roller so, I hope you don’t mind a bong? I can get a pipe if you want, I’m sure I could find one-.”

“I can handle a bong, thank you.” I bite down on my bottom lip to hide the smile that begs to plaster itself across my face.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” The words seem to be edged with some hint of accusation, but I dismiss it as me just being a paranoid smoker. He packs the bowl with green carefully, making sure to pick out any stems or inconsistencies. Then, he hands me the piece and a lighter. “First hit.” Offering it towards me.

Sober me would definitely over-analyze the sanitation of this bong, seeing as it’s been shared amongst at least four men with I’m sure questionable guests – but I’m not sober, and I need this hit. Seamlessly, I press my lips to the thick black rim of the bong, use the lighter to sizzle the ground flower and inhale the opaque smoke. For a moment, I think I took it like a champ, until I completely exhaled and am consumed by a coughing fit. I shakily hand the bong back to Nicholas who’s laughing at me. “Dude, your face is so red right now. Are you good?”

“It’s just been a long time since I smoked from a bong.” I struggle to get out the words between coughs. I use a water bottle I’d stolen from the fridge to help ease the burning in my throat. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything fun, I haven’t even drank in months since I’ve been so busy managing the last stadium tour. I needed this night more than I thought.

He easily takes a hit, exhaling a thick white cloud above us. “I got you.” He states as he leans across the coffee table and reaches into a decorative wooden bowl, grabbing something that sounded like crumpled plastic. His hand opens to reveal a small hill of vibrant Jolly Ranchers, “These help with the coughing, don’t ask, they just do.” A kind smile tugs at the edges of his mouth.

“Thanks.” I mirror his smile and take a blue raspberry rancher. After unraveling it out of the wrapping, I place it on my tongue. Much to my surprise, it does help significantly. “Wow, that’s crazy how fast that works. My eyes were fucking watering.”

“You’re welcome.” He replies with a smug smirk as he picks out a cherry flavored one to eat.

The events from that first rainy day at my house repeated themselves because we were once again sitting criss cross in front of each other on the couch eating snacks. From the amount of giggles that filled the living room and the heavy slur in our voices, it is clear that we were insanely crossfaded. I thought smoking would help my drunkness, but it only amplified it.

It’s 2 am and the house is still dead silent except for us. We’re trying to keep it down and speak in whispers, but it always seems to fail. Our knees are practically overlapping as we hold a tub of fruity sherbet between us. Somewhere along the adventure of eating the sorbet, I became aware of his eyes on me. Any time I catch a glimpse of him blood rushes to my cheeks, so I try my best to avoid it. But then, it becomes another drunken game I want to win.

I place a bit of the cold sugary treat on my tongue, taking my time to fully clean off the spoon and pulling it from my mouth with a pop. His stare follows my every movement and lingers on my mouth. “Hm.” I hum, “Can you check if my tongue is still blue from the Jolly Rancher?” I don’t know what I’m trying to get out of that, but it feels like some sort of a power move.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure.” He answers, his voice lined in caution.

I lean forward, making sure to show off my low cut top and innocently stick my tongue out. His eyes widen slightly, “Yeah, still blue.” Before I can retract, he matches my energy, “What about mine? Still red?” He offers out his tongue just like I did.

I tug at my bottom lip with my eyes glued to his tongue thinking about what it would feel like to be under it. “Mhm, yep.” I nod. There’s stillness between us as our gazes shift between each other’s lips and eyes.

Our lips clash together, and it’s like a cage of butterflies locked in my stomach just unleashed throughout my entire body. Between the butterfly frenzy, the alcohol and the weed, my whole body is buzzing and on fire. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t care, everything feels so fuzzy and so good.

We mutually pull from the kiss, analyze each other’s eyes, then reconnect our lips again. Trembly hands find their ways into each other’s hair, pulling us closer. I can tell he’s holding back but I need more. My body’s moving faster than my mind, I don’t even have a moment to think before I practically throw the tub of ice cream onto the coffee table in order to deepen the kiss.

Every last bit of professionalism and restraint leaves my body when his large hands find my waist and pulls me closer. His tongue sweeps against my bottom lip and I oblige with entrance. Our tongues dance together at the same momentum that our bodies are reacting to each other. I draw away for just a moment, “I normally don’t do this with clients.” I breathe out hastily.

“I don’t do this with managers.” He shoots back immediately, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Do you want to stop?” But the hunger behind his silver eyes answers for me. He meets my lips again and pulls me into his lap, with my knees anchored at each side of him. My short skirt rides up my thighs, so it is just my panty-covered core against his strained jeans. I roll my hips against his in an attempt to get some friction. He lets out a deep groan from the back of his neck, his hands gripping my hips hard as I move against him.

He detaches from my lips and soon finds my neck, beginning to suck at the sensitive skin below my ear. “Fuck.” I whine out quietly, still grinding against him.

“We should probably move to my room...” Nicholas mumbles with a reluctant urgency in his voice.

I think about it for a moment, but I know I’ll back out if I comply. If I agree I won’t follow through – which is the smarter idea but I’m not thinking with my brain right now. My head is drunk and hazy and all I can think about was him. “I don’t want to.” I answer under my breath.

“But if the others catch us –.”

“They won’t.” I briefly look around and take an oversized blanket off the back of the couch, draping around me, creating a small fort over us. “We can hide if we need to.”

He nods subtly and finds his way back onto my neck, my eyes flutter closed in ecstasy when his tongue begins drawing circles into the sensitive skin. He abruptly stops for a short second, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” Whispering just below my ear.

“I know.” I reply in a hush. Neither one of us complies to our logic though. Nicholas leans back against a cushion behind him, bringing me down with him. “Do you want to stop?” I repeat.

“No.” He presses sloppy kisses across my neck to the other side. “I fucking need you.” His voice is deep and raspy and it sets my stomach ablaze.

I let out a whimper as his sucking on my skin intensifies. Any other sober version of me would be losing her mind about the inevitable hickies, but right now they’re making me tingle all over. Between my thighs there is a throbbing that is begging for him. My hand curls into his long hair and perhaps I need him just as ferociously. I grab his hand resting on my hip and guide it between my legs. He freezes below me, like touching me would get him in trouble. His grey eyes gaze up at me, they’re masking primal hunger with innocence. “Touch me.” I instruct in a whisper.

That’s all the convincing he needed and there is nothing hiding his desire anymore. His fingers easily slipped into my panties and ran two digits up my folds. I inhale sharply; the pleasure is almost too powerful when his fingers finally reach my clit. “You’re so fucking wet.” He breathes out gruffly, unmistakable need in his voice.

My own hand traces down his abdomen landing on the button and zipper of his jeans which I instantly undo and dip into his boxers, wrapping my hand around his already hard member. “You’re so fucking hard.” The sudden stimulation sends him into overdrive, bucking his hips up into my hand and a deep groan comes from deep in his chest.

His glimmering eyes search mine for something, but I can’t tell what it is, maybe permission? At first, I try to decipher the search but then I begin to notice the soft edges of his cheeks and the fullness of his lips, the perfect slope of nose. In this moment he looks just so… beautiful, in a way I hadn’t noticed before. Maybe it is the conglomerate of substances in my body that’s making me see him this way, like some sort of extra cushion to allow myself to sleep with him.

Suddenly, he uses his free hand to seize my jaw to meet his lips again. His hands roughly grab and grope me, his own professional and polite demeanor slipping from him. The pads of his fingertips teasingly roll against my clit before sliding down and slipping two fingers into me. I gasp sharply into the kiss when he hooks them right into my g-spot sending shock waves through my blood vessels. I collapse into his neck whimpering with each curl of his fingers. His free hand is firmly gripping onto my hip in a way that could easily command my entire body. With every passing moment I see a much different side from his normal calm and kind, right now he’s feral and rabid and looking at me like I’m the first meal he’s had in years.

I’ve slept with enough men to know when they’re giving their all, and I can tell he’s not. He has a loose grip on control, under any other circumstances, with any other man, I’d try to provoke him. But the intensity of his restraint almost scares me, it feels like observing a hungry shark from within the safety of a protective metal cage. His energy is circling me, hunting me, looking for my weak spot – but I know he won’t go for it, he just wants to see me squirm.

I spit into my hand before moving up and down on his veiny shaft and he lets out a low groan that sounds more like thunder rolling. His fingers dig into my hip bone so hard I can almost feel the blood rushing to form bruises. I wonder if he’s only like this because he’s drunk.

His cock is thick and long and pulsing in my hand; the more I jerk him the more I need him. As if we communicated telepathically, his hand squeezes the cheeks of my face forcing me to look into his eyes again, “I need you.” He demands, a bit louder than before.

“Yes. Me too.” I nod desperately, “Do you have a condom?”

He runs his tongue between his lips and points to a ceramic jar on the coffee table that he can’t reach. I lean over and just barely get it with the tips of my fingers, rolling it closer to the edge. I pull the interlocking lid off to find it full of condoms. I pick the first one I see, rip it open with my teeth then slide it down his length. The whole time he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me whole. He pulls his fingers from me so I can align my entrance with his cock. I pump him slowly to tease but his nails digging into my thigh tells me he’s not patient. I let myself sink down onto him and he fills me wholly, completely, almost painfully, if I don’t keep myself suspended a bit. “Fuck.” I breathe out.

He hasn’t moved and the way he’s looking up at me feels like the calm before a storm. Unexpectedly, his hand snatches my jaw and the air slips from my windpipe as he brings me down to his lips, “You better start moving if you don’t want me to destroy you completely.” He growls lowly and I obey, beginning to rut my hips on him. We let out a long moan almost in unison and our lips meet again. One hand I tangle into his raven locks and the other goes down to find my pulsing clit.

The pace I’m keeping isn’t enough so I speed up like I’m trying to satisfy a hunger I can’t reach. Our tongues are intertwined and fighting for dominance but he’s winning. I tug at his hair and ride him faster to gain control. Both of his hands glide up my thighs and take hold of my hips, I don’t think much of it until he begins to ram into me from below. I crumble completely in his hands and fall into the curve of his neck letting out pathetic whimpers. He thrusts up rhythmically, reaching the deepest parts of me and setting fire to every cell in my body. His deep and raspy grunts fill my ears and only furthers the tingling that’s spreading over my skin. My fingers roll into my clit quicker with each passing second, “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come.” I warn, sensing my climax rapidly approaching.

“Come for me, baby, come all over my cock.” Nicholas grunts out sternly, sounding more like a command. His own breathy groans tell me he’s close too.

Bliss washes over me, bursting through every inch of my body and threatens to come out in screams. My hand grips his hair tightly while I bite down hard onto his shoulder to stifle the noises wanting to come out. His frenzied thrusts land into my sweet spot over and over and it’s too much for me to handle. The pleasure comes out in tears, spilling down my cheeks and onto his shirt that is crinkled underneath my piercing teeth. At my highest peak, he’s beginning to unravel with sloppy but hasty ruts into me until finally, he slams into me hard and goes rigid. I feel his cock twitch and throb inside me, spilling his seed into the condom. He lets out short, breathy groans while he rides out his orgasm.

Finally spent, I deflate and land on his chest. Our breathing is in sync with our chests rising and falling together. I expect that the following moments will be excruciatingly awkward, but he surprises me. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer into him. I breathe in deep and his woodsy cologne fills my nostrils, scaring away all the uncomfortable fears immediately. It’s comforting to have someone’s smell and warmth to hold onto, which is vastly different to my most recent hookups offered.

Contrary to the beast I just encountered moments ago, Nicholas is now gentle and delicate, like normal. It gives me a feeling similar to whiplash, how he could flip from playful and sweet to something quite the opposite. Just the thought spins an excitement in my tummy that I’ve never felt before.

We lay there for a while in silence, probably because we don’t know what to say or how this happened or how we got here. I clear my throat and lift myself up on my palms and wrap the blanket around me, suddenly feeling exposed. “Do you mind if I crash here? I definitely can’t drive.”

He wipes the sweat from his forehead, “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He discretely takes care of the condom, tying it off and tucking it into the wrapper.

There are external worries about what this all means banging on the outside of my drunken head so, I need a distraction. I reach over for the bong and take a few consecutive short hits until it eases the growing anxiety of everything. I want to tell him how good it was, how good he made me feel, how I want to go again, but it seems forbidden to speak about. It shouldn’t be talked about.

“You can, um, sleep in my bed if you want. I can sleep out here.” He offers. “You done with that?” He tilts his head to the plastic in my hands.

“Oh, yeah.” I exhale milky smoke above us. “But um, I’m fine just sleeping out here? Do you have an extra charger?”

“Sure.” He answers and takes the bong from my hands. After a hit or two Nicholas gets up, picking up the trash and ash on the coffee table before leaving the room without a word. He returns with a spare duvet folded up topped with clothes and a charger. “Here you go.”

I take the stack and recognize the baggy shirt and joggers to be merch I didn’t see at their table. “Thank you.” I reply softly, averting my eyes away from him.

“You can keep ‘em. They’re just old unused merch.” He circles his fingertips into his temple and yawns, “Can I get you anything else?”

I shake my head, “No I’m good. I think I’m just gonna crash.” I can hear myself slipping back into my normal stiff work persona even through the weed.

He nods awkwardly, “Okay, well. I guess I’ll let you get some sleep then.”

I give him a tightlipped smile. “See you in the morning.”

He heads towards his room which happens to be just behind the couch. I press my palms into my eye sockets trying to make sense of what just happened. “Fuck.” I mumble then let out a long sigh. I decided that this is a tomorrow-me problem and that I need to get some sleep.

Being too lazy to get up, I change beneath the blanket we fucked under and assess my bedding situation. I decided that the thin duvet would make a better pillow than a cover. Once tucked in with the blanket we used as a fort, the same woodsy cologne fills my nose and oddly comforts me. I close my eyes in an attempt to ignore the scent and the feeling that accompanies it but it’s useless. My hands find the corner of the blanket, bunch it up into a little cushion, press it to my nose and inhale deeply. It smells like him, cozy and warm. A part of me wishes I’d let myself sleep in his bed, maybe even asked him to sleep in it with me. But I am anything but warm and cozy, I am frigid and stale. He wouldn’t want me chilling his bed anyway and I shouldn’t want to siphon off his warmth. I was right in that first meeting, this is already more than I bargained for.

Next Chapter -> 07 - Heartthrob Strategy

a/n: thank you so much if you took the time to read this! I'm extremely appreciative of those of you who are reblogging or commenting on previous chapters 🥺

lmk if you liked it 🖤

#bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfic #lowkey this is turning into a reverse harem in my drafts...👀#noah sebastian fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo rpf #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #noah sebastian rpf #nick folio fanfic #jolly karlsson fanfic #bad omens rpf

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sexy-opium-ravioli · 1 year

Text

Morning Sun

Universe: Resident Evil

wc: 1,891

Pairing: Stepbro!Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: No genuine active smut contained, but graphic mentions of smut. Vague angst? Either way this fic will be 18+!! No minors, sorry!!

a/n: I know that i have a bad hyperfixation for this man but I cannot help it. Every few years Leon enters my mind, gets drunk and refuses to leave like the sick old bastard he is. Either way, some new adventure time fics will be dropping soon, lovelies. I hope they'll be better than whatever this is!!

again props to lipglossanon!! I read their dogman!Leon fic this morning and all jokes aside, it did actually give me rabies.

without further ado,

The sun’s quiet, striking rays bled through the curtains covering your window. Opening your eyes, for a couple of minutes, all you did was observe how the dust and particles of your room would enter the rays of light, glitter for a few beautiful moments, and then exit and disappear completely. How your soft breaths would make the floating dust swirl and dip in the air.

Footsteps laden with sleep marched by your thin bedroom door, the owner’s hand not even bothering to harass you in this early morning hour. There was a twist of pleasure lurching in the bottom of your stomach that you couldn’t quite place the emotion of. Sure, Leon made you feel good, and he made you feel good often, but there was just something strange about this entire situation. It was something you felt like you weren’t allowed to read, family ties concerning your stepbrother were always hushed, always secretive.

You could see it in his eyes when the sky was cloudy outside, when irises the color of sea glass glazed over whenever he even saw the trace of flame. There was something that happened to him, but until he told you, you knew that it was not your place to know.

So, almost every night at this point, you’d let him slip into your room and fuck you, because there was something else happening behind those eyes whenever he did. And maybe the next night would inch you closer to the truth than you had been before, maybe it wouldn't. Maybe this was Leon’s strange way of healing, letting himself be sweaty in your arms, laying his damp head on your chest, panting in the dark. There would be some nights when the curtains were drawn tight and the moon was invisible, and the light pollution of the city you two were living in snuffed out almost every star in the sky.

On those nights, he would scratch you, and he’d hold your hips so tight you would bruise and squeal in a sort of pain that only brought you more pleasure as an apology. Sometimes, when those nights were pitch black and all you could ever know was him, he would cum deep inside your body and you would feel tears track their searing path down your skin. You’d hold him tight and he’d cry into the pillow. If on the rare chance that you two would wake up together, there would not be a word spoken about it. Leon would even leave you alone during the day as consolation. The teasing, the ribbing, the brother-like feeling of annoyance that Leon would always so easily place in your chest would always be softer.

Sometimes, after those rough nights, you would sit on the couch and wince and you would catch the end of guilt playing itself out in your stepbrother's eyes. Something happened to him. Something strange, and deep.

But right now, the morning was standing to its fullest glory, and the sunshine was tinting your room gold. All you could do was admire the prettiness and follow the shimmer like a crow.

Breakfast was a desolate affair.

The family still hadn’t gotten used to each other yet- and not really in the way between yourself and Leon anymore. No, while you two finally seemed to be getting along, (At least, in the eyes of your shared parents), the wear and tear of a stressed, overworked couple was starting to show. Sometimes, you would search your parent’s eyes for any meaning behind their stress, to see if any of it was because of you- but nothing.

More often than not, nights were left with arguments that led mornings to be silent and awkward. But, thankfully, it was a free, clear Saturday. You didn’t have any morning plans at the very least, so you could just grab a bowl of cereal and scurry back to your room with it. You wanted to bask in the sunshine and go back to sleep, because the morning warmth always felt beautiful.

So, when you stroll into the kitchen to make something for yourself to eat, your eyes set upon the shirtless figure of your stepbrother. He was a bit older than you, a bit taller than you, a bit meaner than you. He always seemed to be a bit more than you whenever you were found measuring yourself, but you also had the capacity to see that his trait for competition wasn’t always a good thing. You wondered why that trait was in him at all.

But still, there were some times when he’d steal quick kisses from you in the dark, unshared corners of the new house you moved to- and you swear you could smell sweetness on his skin. Sometimes his eyes would glide all over you, and you felt like you were being studied every time he got the chance to take the time. He tried to hide it- but at this point, his studying is paying off; he knows every curve and corner and awkward angle of your body. His hands knew it, much more than before. You felt the spreading warmth of familiarity in his fingertips when he traced shapes on your skin.

He pulled you out of your thoughts, which mainly manifested in a burning of arousal in your gut and remembrance of exactly how he fucked you the night before. Your stroll stutters for even half a second- he notices and smirks- before you ignore his gaze and just decide on getting yourself a glass of water before leaving. You’ll know it’ll taste like stinging mint sliding down your throat, but you’d rather put off breakfast for the current moment. You didn’t have it in you to deal with Leon, however enchanted you might be with him.

As soon as you finish your glass and set it down in the sink, you feel arms firmly wrap around your center. Sometimes, Leon’s touch was the warmest, toastiest embrace that you’ve ever felt. Other times, times where it was unexpected -where it was wrong to be acting like this in a semi-public part of the house- it was like you’d been tiptoeing over thin ice, and it suddenly caved in all around you.

It was a sort of cold water shock, how much your lungs wanted to expand against your ribs and gasp. But, you kept it down, kept it quiet- he’d tease you and be mean sometimes, but he preferred the quiet when he was nosing your hairline and kissing your cheek; grinding his hips against yours and pushing them against the lip of the sink.

The sun burned against your cheeks through the old glass of your kitchen window. You remember in your old house, your dad used to have a vine growing over the sill of its window. There was a burn in your chest at how much you missed that vine sometimes. You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt the hips press harder and teeth tugging your large sleep shirt off the side of your shoulder; Leon sucked so hard on your skin that you knew it was an instant bruise. You let out a whimper before you closed your throat to any other embarrassing sounds that wanted to slip past your teeth.

“Leon,” From his name alone, from the breathy, whistling tone that flew past your lips and into his ears, Leon could tell that you wanted him to listen to you. He’s learned by now not to make you too mad in moments like this.

His head lifted swiftly to your ear, and he whispered, “What’s up, lil’ sis?” There wasn’t mockery in his tone, but rather fondness at this point. Either way, he was teasing the waters. His hand wandered up into the valley of the stomach underneath your shirt. You could feel your knees wanting to quiver a bit.

“Our parents-,” You try to reason. Your voice is even quieter, barely even speech (leaning more into syllables of breath, but Leon liked listening closely to you sometimes). You were beginning to tense and Leon could feel the muscles in your stomach clench in anticipation, in anxiety. In the warmth of the sunshine, with the steady rhythm of a faucet leaking into the mouth of a sink, Leon was fascinated by you. Every time he pressed his palms on you- when he touched you with his fingers or whispered in your ear, it reminded him how alive you were. How hot and toasty and breathing.

“Already off to work, don’t worry your pretty lil’ head,” His voice was scratchy and unused, it was around seven and one could easily assume he just woke up. But his voice was also a line of cologne weaving through the air like a billowing scarf. Or maybe, it was smoke.

“Please Leon, I’m tired. I just wanna go back to sleep,” Your head tilts back and lays heavy on his shoulder, your back completely leaning into his chest. Your nose was softly exhaling against his neck, and you almost felt the urge to giggle at him when you felt a shiver up his spine. For the sake of his pride, you chose not to mention it, lest you start an all-out war between the two of you.

Leon pondered you in the sunshine. “Wanna go to your room, then?” You nodded with the space you had, and you felt the arm keeping you up against him cross against your chest and gip the shoulder on your other side. He kissed you. “Let’s go,” He gives you the tiniest smile as you crack open your sleepbound eyes, and you give a small smile back.

You two untangle, and find that when the house is empty it feels like your own little kingdom. No expectations, no responsibilities, no masks of comedy to portray to the theater. It was all okay, and the air was breathable and the whole house was light. You wondered if Leon was experiencing the same world, or if your brain was starting to jump the gun on this whole thing.

Tiptoeing through the house like there was a sleeping dragon in each next room was fun, but being welcomed by the tranquil sort of quiet that your new room offered to you every morning was something else. You suspected that Leon was starting to like your room more than his own, but you tucked that thought down for when you needed to tease him.

Your body hit your still warm bed, and you quickly tucked your legs back into blankets still molded by their absence. God, this was nice. Your eyes were still closed and your tingling skin was basking in the already-hot sun when a weight dipped your mattress right at the start of your hip, and still you kept your eyes closed when he crept under the blankets right next to you and lay a heavy arm on your stomach.

Leon looked at you relaxing and found that he didn’t want to ruin it for now. Hell, he was sleepy too. He was always tired.

You two would have mind-dizzying sex later. (You would). Now, it seems that you’ve caught Leon right in the middle of your trap, and he decided to hold you a little tighter when he smiled at the thought.

#leon s. kennedy #leon s. kennedy x reader #stepbro!leon s. kennedy x reader #resident evil #i wrote this in a state of mind i shall not indulge to you #but trust #it was insane #god bless

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wrenreid · 2 years

Text

Just Acting

Chapter Twenty-One

Jess ended up spending the night, and you wake up with your head laying on her chest. You sit up and laugh. "Were you comfy, baby girl?" she jokes.

You roll your eyes and head to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. Jess plops down on the couch and you follow suit after hearing the coffee start brewing.

"So New Year's Eve party, huh?"

"Yeah. You should come," you smile.

"I would love to, but I have plans."

"Ugh. You're too busy for me," you say, fake pouting.

"Says you. Anyway, you plan on kissing anyone tonight?"

"My pillow. Maybe Aisha,” you grin.

"Is Matthew going to be there?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

She sighs, giving you a wiggle of her eyebrows. "Because you clearly feel something for him."

You contemplate arguing and denying, but instead you say "How is it that you just know things?"

"I learned how to read minds in college," she winks. "I can tell, Y/n. I've been able to tell from the start."

"Your best friend instincts are so annoying sometimes."

"You love me."

"Bite me."

"Gladly," Jess winks again.

"I'm going to tell him. Eventually."

"Good, or I'll have to beat your ass."

"Want to help me pick an outfit?" You ask.

"Yes," she hops up, leading you to your room. She sits on the bed and watches as you hold up a few outfit choices.

Jess's phone rings and she talks for a moment then hangs up. "Dammit Logan," she sighs. "I've got to go cover a shift. I'll see you later." She kisses your cheek playfully and leaves your apartment.

You're pretty bummed she can't come to the party tonight, but you're happy she'll be with the girl she loves. The party should just be the cast and spouses and a few other friends of AJ's since it's her party. From what Aisha told you, Matthew will still be in Vegas until next week. Which you suppose might be for the best because you can get drunk instead of worrying about him.

The script for the next episode was sent to you yesterday, and you're excited to read it. It'll be great to get back to work and jump into the Criminal Minds world again.

_____

You look into the mirror, you look pretty good if you do say so yourself. Jess did a good job helping you pick out what to wear.

A black mid-thigh length dress that hugs your curves, black opaque tights, and black boots is what you're wearing. For makeup, you have gold on your eyelids for the holiday and the rest is pretty natural. You curled your hair earlier today, so you just fluff it out now. Before leaving your apartment, you throw on a grey trench coat type jacket.

You drive to AJ's house and are greeted by her and her husband. You smile, happy to see them after a while. Their kids are at AJ's sister's house. Aisha is making drinks in the kitchen.

"Margaritas?"

"You know it," Aisha winks. "It's good to see you, kiddo."

You roll your eyes with a smile. "Make me something strong."

"Yes ma'am,” she grins excitedly.

Paget comes in dancing with a bottle of champagne. She kisses AJ's cheek before coming over to you two.

"You're getting drunk, and you cannot protest," she says, kissing your cheek as well.

"Wouldn't want to defy you,” you say with a smile.

Kirsten comes in later, and you're excited to see her again. More people from set and other friends of AJ's pile inside.

Nathan puts some music on and Aisha grabs your hand, making you dance with her. The moves are messy, but it's hilariously fun.

"You're already drunk and it's 10pm," you laugh.

"Don't judge me, it's New Year's Eve."

The party gets started, and you sip your second margarita while talking with Paget and Kirsten. All of you wear these glasses or head bands that Kirsten brought. They read "2021" (wrote this in 2020 and i don’t see a point in changing the year tbh) and are gold and glittery. Daniel is timing how fast Adam can chug a beer. You shake your head at them acting like college frat boys.

You all watch as the news stations play music and flashbacks of the year on tv. The countdown will start in thirty-seven minutes.

Adam grabs your hand and the two of you drunk-dance. You throw your head back laughing at him. It's amazing to be here with all of your friends. Well, almost all of them. He spins you around, and you see someone come into the front door.

"Matthew! You made it!" AJ's voice says. You've had two margaritas and two shots of tequila at this point so you hardly hear them from your place in the dining room.

You stop dancing with Adam and he smiles at you. "Go talk to him."

"You're drunk, you don't know what you're talking about," you chuckle nervously.

"Oh shush."

You roll your eyes and make you get closer to the door.

"Y/n, I wasn't sure if you'd be here."

"I'm not a total lame-ass when it comes to fun, Gubler." Your say, pulling your riding-up dress down.

He laughs. "You look really good."

"Thank you. I suppose you look alright."

"Suppose?" His eyebrows stitch together.

You smile, shooting him a wink. Tipsy Y/n is a lot more confident. Which scares you because what if you say something weird. You go back to the kitchen and pour a glass of champagne. The countdown is approaching.

You finish your glass in about ten minutes, going to a group of friends that Matthew isn't mingling with.

"I get the sense that you're avoiding me," a voice says after you leave the bathroom to fix your makeup.

"What if I am?" you turn around to face him.

"That's very rude given I helped you with mr reporter," he laughs softly.

"Thank you, by the way."

"No problem. So why are you avoiding me?"

"There could be multiple reasons, pick one." You bite your lip softly.

"I'm hurt," he puts his hand over his heart, tossing his head back lightly. "I thought we were friends or something. Isn't that what we talked about on the phone that day?”

Ouch. "Yeah. It is..."

"Is there something wrong?"

"Nope. All good here," you say and walk away. Eight minutes and thirty seconds until January first.

A few minutes pass as you and Paget pour everyone another round of champagne. You take a sip of your own glass then feel someone tugging on your arm.

"Can you please tell me what's going on?"

You look Matthew in the eyes. "I lied. I lied when I said we were friends. We were never really friends."

"Ouch."

"No, dammit. What i'm trying to say is, I like you. God, I sound like a middle schooler. I have feelings for you. I haven't figured them out completely, but they're there." He chuckles. "Well, don't laugh at me."

"No, it's just I thought you hated me.”

"Most of the time I do."

Matthew laughs, moving hair out of his face. "I feel the same way. The liking part, not the hating... well, both sometimes."

You smile, blushing. "Well..."

"Four more seconds."

You look at the tv. You can read, why is he telling you the countdown? Before you can ask, he pulls you in by the waist and kisses you as the others cheer for the new year.

"This is so cliche, ew,” you pull away from this kiss.

"Shut up, you like it."

You roll your eyes and pull his neck down to press your lips to his again. The rhythm is soft and slow. When you pull away again, you see your friends looking at you guys with eyes wide. AJ sips her champagne with a smirk on her face, making eye contact with you.

You blush at everyone's eyes on you two. You grab your champagne glass and take a drink.

Matthew takes it from you.

"Hey!"

"You're drunk, Y/n."

"That explains why I kissed you,” you tease.

"Hey," he says, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I'm kidding."

Matthew rolls his eyes and pours your drink out.

Around twelve-forty, Matthew grabs your hand. "You need to get home."

"You're lame."

"You're an ass, but let's go,” he says softly.

"I'm a cute ass," you say with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah." He leads you to your car and drives you back to your apartment.

He helps you get into your place and sit on the couch. "Do you want some water?"

You nod sleepily. "Yes please."

He brings you a cup and sits beside you. "After you finish that, you need to get to bed. Do you need anything before I go?"

"Don't leave."

"You want me to stay?"

"Yeah. Just for company and stuff,” you say, trying to play it cool.

He smiles. "Okay. I'll stay. Go get ready for bed."

You oblige, handing him the empty cup and heading to your room. After changing into a pair of blue flannel pj bottoms and a black tank top, you head back to the living room to find Matthew laying on the couch with his eyes open.

"You don't have to sleep on the couch,” you say, rubbing your eyes as you stand over him.

"I didn't want to overstep," Matthew says.

"I don't really feel like sleeping alone. It's like this weird sad feeling that I get when I'm drunk... sorry that was over sharing."

He smiles. "No, it's okay." He stands up and follows you to your room. You lay down and so does Matthew. He opens his arms so you can lay on him, and you rest your head on his chest.

twenty-two

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @danis-stuff-is-here @kylakins88 @daydreamingqueen1 @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @inlovewithcharmers @kylakins88 @f-me-reid @matthew-gray-gubler-lover <3

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readingadream · 4 months

Text

Be The Light

Chapter 6

wc: 2340

5 | 6 | 7

Master

San POV

Watching Wooyoung learn to fight was how I spent most of my days lately, or he and I would train together. Honestly he was improving fast, learning the ropes rather quick. Seonghwa had learned the president would be making an appearance at a local homeless shelter so Hongjoong, Mingi and Seonghwa had been making plans, wanting to keep Wooyoung out of most of this due to him quickly becoming known to the public eye. In 3 weeks he’d already been contacted by multiple companies to model for, and of course I was with him doing everything so even I couldn’t do anything crazy.

The plan for Wooyoung and I was rather easy, we had to make a statement without bringing the attention fully to us. Wooyoung had the idea of our outfits being customized, writing ‘New World’ and ‘It’s time to wake up’ Something that would mock the president who was running for a second trimester. President Park was always mentioning how he’d change so much but in the years that have passed there hasn’t been any good outcomes. Homeless citizens had increased by about 32%, female workers were taking a loss at how much they earned. People with money were getting away with so much, police accepting bribes, so was the court and even government officials. Everything was corrupt.

Seonghwa and Joong liked the idea, especially because the younger generation would most likely focus on us even being there. According to Seonghwa it wasn’t unusual for those with media fame to attend these types of events because often they’d be paid by the president for the exposure. Though due to the fact Wooyoung and I were new to this we wouldn’t have an opportunity like that. Explaining that we would just need to go and pretend we were there in support of President Park.

Hongjoong was secretly crazy good at creating outfits, so he quickly went to work measuring us both before disappearing for a few days to work at his studio. For me the vision was a simple black blazer with inner red lining that would show the slogans Wooyoung had suggested. The outside would be simple besides a red embroidered red symbol that was seen as a sign of the ‘Rebels’ or as the President put ‘Resistence’ We used the hourglass as our signature usually.

No one knew the idea for Wooyoung yet though, Hongjoong said we would have to wait until the day of the event. Which was now 6 days away.

“I hope this goes smoothly Sannie, I’m so nervous about this. Sure we aren’t doing much but what if they try to arrest us for even having the symbol? The others are throwing fliers out with the propaganda from the roof right? What if they get caught too?” Wooyoung being so worried wasn’t that shocking to me, I’d wondered similar things when I first joined the group.

Running my fingers through his hair I let out a small hum, “Trust me, everything will be okay. Plus we probably wont be the only group there doing something. A group called Stray Kids also are against president Park, though neither groups get along. We might believe in change for the greater good but honestly we’ve all been against each other for so long. Something had happened when the group was first forming but honestly Joong won't tell us anything.”

The fight between us was stupid, and had left a few people seriously hurt but for some damn reason Hongjoong and their leader Chan were always at each other's necks. The two were stupid, if we could work together as one then most likely things would have gone so much smoother.

Sitting up on the couch, Wooyoung looked at me with a small smile, “How about you and I go out? We’ve been stuck here for the last 2 weeks due to my training and the captain's planning. I think we should go get our hair done, maybe go eat chicken from the place you and I found when we got so drunk the first week I was here. Plus Hwa said we should post on social media more often, and do everything we can to get attention.”

“We should just date at that point instead of gay baiting to get all the attention.” I mumbled under my breath, but I think he had heard me cause I faintly heard the boy gasp. Was he against the idea? Or was it the fact I said it so bluntly? Who knew because he seemed to just pretend nothing was said. “Sure, let's get our jacket and shoes on. I’ll let Mingi know we are going out, he’s the only one home at the moment anyways besides us two.”

Seeing how happy Wooyoung was about going out made me realize just how often we rarely get to just do stuff outside of the group. His bright gummy like smile, the squinty eyes but there was so much happiness behind them. Grabbing the keys to my car, I reached to grab his hand and lead him outside.

Since we first met, and started to do photoshoots together our bond had gotten a lot closer. Mingi and Yunho would give us shit, teasing that we were dating or that us two were soulmates. Woo would always blush and flip them off, telling them that they were just as bad as a married couple. Which wasn’t wrong. Those two really do bicker that bad.

“So food first? Then we can see if the Salon has any openings. Probably should have made an appointment though. Though if they are booked I know one more place, they usually only do idols, actors/actresses and models so they shouldn't be as busy.”

“Yeah I’m hungry so that sounds good. Hwa had me studying some random crap this morning so I skipped eating. I hate maps, yet he and Hongjoon have been up my ass to memorize how to get around the event in 2 days. I don’t understand, if I wont be in danger then why do they want me knowing everything? Wouldn’t it be better to know nothing so no one would suspect that I’m involved with the rebellion?”

“To be honest it would be best to know everything Woo, mostly because we never know when or if something goes wrong. There have been times… things went wrong and a few of us got hurt. Joong won’t talk about it though so don’t ask about what happened. As for Hwa, I’ll see if he will give you a break.” Glancing over to the other I noticed how he picked at his fingernails, definitely nervous about the next few days coming up.

“I should try to convince Hongjoong to let us leave more often to do things besides work.” I finally spoke again after a few minutes of awkward silence.

“That would be nice, I miss going out and Changbin has been asking me to meet up with him, I’ve been lying to him but now he knows I’m modeling. Yesterday he told me that he was half tempted to show up to one of the photoshoots if I keep blowing him off.” Of course he would be giving Wooyoung such a hard time about them not talking much. Those two were basically inseparable for so long that being apart longer than a month probably felt like decades.

Changbin wasn’t a bad guy, most of the time that is. Changbin was always the caring one that acted tough, but just by looking at the dude it was easy to tell that no matter what he'd risk everything for ones he cared for most.

The drive went smooth, we sat there in comfortable silence and just enjoyed the music playing. I’d look over to see Wooyoung doing small dances while the song was playing. There was still so much we didn’t know about each other but yet at times I knew too much because I was always watching over him, basically acting like his shadow. Pukking into the parking lot of my favorite chicken place I glanced over at him to see more of a confused expression, looking over I noticed why, there was Changbin and it looked like Chris as well as Han.

“Who is that with Changbin?” I pretended that I didn’t know who they were for the sake of Wooyoung not knowing we all knew each other.

Tilting his head to the side he scrunched his eyebrows together. “I think that is Han and Bangchan? Well he goes by Chris usually according to Binnie. I’ve never personally met them but he talks about them often. Apparently they work together at Bhang Entertainment which is owned by Chris. Though the 3 all produce together which is pretty cool.”

Getting out of the car I was quick to notice them looking back at us, Han leaning over to Changbin whispering something into his ear and watching as he nodded his head at whatever was said. I watched as the 3 boys smiled, Changbin waving at Wooyoung shouting for him to come over to meet his friends. Completely ignoring the fact I’d been standing right next to him. What an asshole.

Following Woo, I noticed his smile and relaxed as he hugged his best friend. Completely unaware of the fact Han and Chris were both glaring at me. God, I wish I could have just punched them right there. “My baby Wooyoungie! Finally I get to see that handsome face of yours! This is Bangchan also known as Chris, and Jisung but we all just call him Han. I work with them-“

”I remember Binnie, you talk about them so much that I wonder if you 3 are just all dating each other.” I noticed how he rolled his eyes towards his friend before turning his attention to the others. “Nice to finally meet you, this is San. Him and I work together… plus he’s my boyfriend.” I nearly choked on air at the last part. The fuck was Wooyoung up to? Did he want my ass to get beat by his best friend? Cause I promise if looks could kill Changbin would of killed me 100 different ways. Well guess I need to play along right?

Wrapping my arm around his waist I pulled the male closer, giving a fake smile towards the 3 of them. “Nice to meet you, especially Changbin. My sweet Wooyoung has mentioned a lot about you, how you two lived together, how you made him cry when he moved in with my friends and I… Guess you can be a real asshole to those you care about?”

“San-“

”Funny, Wooyoung never mentioned you to me-“

”Changbin, stop lying cause we both know I have. I mentioned him often… just not that we were dating since that happened a few days ago.” Watching as Wooyoung stepped in front of us both. Though Changbin wasn’t done with me yet and that was clear just. Looking at his face.

”I’m surprised Wooyoung would date the perso-“ I quickly cut him off.

“Shut up, he doesn’t know or need to know.” Saying this made Wooyoung quickly turn his head to look at me with clean confusion. Fuck what do I do or say. Looking at the 3 behind him I knew Changbin wanted to finish what he wanted to say but I wasn’t about to let that happen.

Clearing his throat I looked to Wooyoung, “What do I not know about San?”

Fuck. Come on San think. “Oh, well, I’ve actually met Changbin but it was rather brief. Back in the days we ran into each other sometimes at the gym. He almost died when a weight fell on him but I believe Han was there to save him? Apologies I don’t remember clearly.”

“Liar. Wooyoung, remember the day I came home? That night that I was covered in blood? That was because of him and his friends Woo. They aren’t good people at all, fuck that’s why I was so mad at you when you first told me. Though it seems Ateez wanted to protect their precious treasure that would help them move forward to success.” Changbin's evil smile made my blood boil. Why would he ruin this for me? Besides the fact I nearly killed him.

Wooyoung blinked for a moment, looking between us all. Wooyoung was smart, so there was no doubt that he finally was connecting the dots. “You… you knew him the whole time?! All of them knew?! Yet you all lied to my face?” Shoving me away I noticed him shaking and trying to hold back his tears. “I trusted you! I trusted all of you.” Looking at Changbin he pointed his finger towards him. “You too! You fucking liar! Why didn’t you tell me the night I told you Changbin?! Huh?! WHY! Don’t trust your best fucking friend? Or have I been replaced by the members of Stray Kids? Yeah I know all about the fucking group because Hongjoong made me learn. Though they always kept your name out of it.”

Changbin winced, the look of regret clear as day displayed on his face. “Woo, I didn’t want you involved with what we do… It’s why I never said anything until now.”

”I hate you both! Both of you just leave me alone. I never want to see either of you again.” Fuck, this isn’t what I wanted to happen. I reach out to grab his shoulder but he quickly moved from me.

Wooyoung looked me in the eyes before he spoke one last thing before running off. “To think I was actually falling for you. Apparently I shouldn’t trust someone who treats me nice. We are done San, I’m done with the group too. Keep my shit, just stay out of my life.”

I could never stay away from him. There was more he didn’t know. He could hate me all he wanted, but I’d always be near to protect him from harm's way.

#fanfic #ateez #ateez fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #cross posted on wattpad #hongjoong #jongho #mingi #park seonghwa #seonghwa #choi san #san #woosan #wooyoung #jeong yunho #yunho #yeosang #SammWritesStuff

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