#like for fucks sake pick something and stick with it

[sugaroto]

If Neil ever came to Greece he should've named himself Evaggelia and he would've been fine for at least 13 years

[lovelytsunoda]

naughty list // oscar piastri

summary: oscar's bored, horny and hopelessly smitten with his lover. but if he keep this up, he's going to land them both on santa's naughty list this year.

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

prompt: "let's both be naughty and save santa the trip."

warnings: soft smut, praise overload, christmas lingerie, oscar is a big simp, sex on a shag carpet, oscar 'if she's not enjoying herself, neither am i' piastri,

author's note: am i incapable of writing anything wholesome about this man? possibly.

oscar piastri was head over heels for his girlfriend.

perhaps that's how he got himself into this situation, on the couch by the fire on a cold london winter, christmas tree lit up behind the couch, tennis on the tv. fresh gingerbread cookies sat on the island, filling the ground-floor apartment with their familiar and warm scent.

y/n had slipped away just moments before, kissing his forehead and promising a surprise, her nervous giggle punctuating the end of the sentence as she slipped away to the bedroom.

a nervous giggle that made him wonder, if, perhaps, the surprise was a little on the naughtier side. his lover wasn't one for wild bedroom escapades, but the fact that she might have been trying to spice it up a little for him?

it drove him fucking wild. worried him slightly, yes, because he didn't want her to push herself too far out of her comfort zone if she wasn't ready, but excited him nonetheless.

meanwhile, in the bedroom, she was nitpicking everything, standing anxiously in front of the mirror as she twirled her hair. the red set stood out against her skin, and while the corset was almost no different than many of the shirts that she wore, she wasn’t sure how to feel about the lacy panties, leaving so much skin exposed.

she’d never been a lingerie person. she wished she could be, but even stepping into victorias secret sent her in a self-critical spiral. no, until now she had tended to stick to skimpy pajama sets, never as exposed as she was now.

she thought she was being ridiculous, oscar had seen her naked, for lords sake.

but even still, looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered if she should have picked the set with the silk robe.

she closed her eyes, counting to ten before she reached for the santa hat on the bed, pulling it over her head and dangling the pom pom on the end over her shoulder.

when she gently trod back into the living room, she cleared her throat to get oscars attention. the driver looked up from his phone, choking on his kale smoothie when he saw her. he promptly dropped his phone, getting to his feet and ambling over to her.

“y/n, love, you look stunning.” his touch was gentle, starting at her hands before running gently along her skin, index finger tracing hearts on her exposed side. “you’re so beautiful, and I’m happy you feel comfortable enough with me to let me see you like this. it’s a privilege I count myself lucky to have.”

she sighed into his touch, fingers messing with the lapel of his flannel. the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the muscles in his arms flexing sharply as his fingers continued to soothe her skin.

“I thought I’d try something new.” she said sheepishly, a blush rising on her cheeks. “you like it?”

“baby, I adore it.” oscar beamed, leaning in to softly press his lips to hers. she tasted like peppermint, and smelled like vanilla bean as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer. “my gorgeous girl.” he growled, biting gently on her bottom lip. “all mine.”

smiling sweetly, she pulled oscar closer, wrapping her arms around him and playing with the hair on the back of his neck, pressing gentle kisses to his cheek. the aussie hummed contentedly, his large, warm hands trailing over her back.

he was well and truly smitten.

she looked like a christmas angel, wrapped in red and white, the cutsey santa hat propped on her head. who knew santa hats could be so sexy on the right woman?

"i love you." he hummed, moving to gently kiss her neck, smiling to himself as she propped up on the tips of her toes, gasping softly as his tongue ran over her pulse point. "my darling, darling girl." he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. "maybe i should dress up next time? get that whole magic mike kinda vibe going on."

she giggled, moving one dainty hand up to cover her mouth as she laughed. god, that laugh. oscar was getting painfully hard just listening to her giggle.

she stepped back, and oscar followed, gently pressing her up against the wall. she winced at the cold plaster pressing up against her smooth skin, but the discomfort was soon forgotten as her lover leaned over her, one hand bracing him against the wall and the other under her chin to tilt her face up. she beamed, trying to hold back her giddy giggles as she stared into his wonderous eyes.

"pretty girl, love of my life." oscar started softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "let's both be naughty and save santa the trip, aye?"

"that's your smoothest holiday line yet." she nodded with a laugh, enthusiastically pulling him closer to her, eliminating the space between their bodies as best she could. "i love you." she said quickly, pressing her lips to his as his hands began to rove her front, fumbling with the strings of the corset top.

she gently pushed his hands away, watching as his eyes grew three sized when she pushed the cups of the corset bra down, nipples pebbling in the cold air, silhouetted against she stunning red of her top.

"you'll be the death of me, sweet thing." oscar laughed, running his hands over her skin. "tell me what you want, pretty girl."

"you, oscar. touching me. kissing me." she sucked in a breath as he bent down, sucking a hickey onto her supple skin, his thumb gently running over her nipple. "making me yours."

oscar groaned, laving his tongue over her sensitive bud, one hand reaching to hold hers close. "sweetheart, just let me take care of you, yeah? give you exactly what you need." he detached from her breast, a line of saliva trailing from her bud to oscar's tongue. he used one hand to wipe his mouth before kissing the back of her hand. "give my sweet perfect angel the full princess treatment."

she smiled down at him as he sank to his knees, nuzzling his nose into the soft skin of her thigh, her fingers carding through his hair. "baby, you left one of the girls unloved." she playfully pouted at him, nudging her other breast. "you don't want the one on the left to think you love the one on the right more, do you?"

oscar laughed, rising to his feet before taking her left breast in his hand. "you're so right, love. wouldn't want one of the girls to feel underappreciated. i hope they know how loved they are."

"you're such an idiot."

"yeah, but you're the one who gets turned on by me acting like a complete and utter fool."

"shut up and kiss me, pretty boy."

"yes ma'am."

oscar kissed her, his hands slipping down to the globes of her ass, lifting her into the air. she squealed, wrapping her legs around him so he was carrying her like a koala, her fingertips gripping his still-clothed shoulders.

well, she couldn't have that. why was she the only one showing any skin?

he set her down on the shag carpet, warmth from the fire gently hearing her chilled skin, hair fanning out behind her head. oscar wasted no time, shedding his flannel and t shirt before he dove right in, wrapping his lips around the tip of her breast. she gasped, arching into him with one hand gripping the carpet and the other in his hair.

“atta girl.” oscar exhaled, sucking another hickey onto her skin. in his opinion, his job wasn’t done until her tits were covered in proof of his undying love. “that’s my pretty girl.”

“need you, baby.” she pleaded, grinding up against his jeans, the denim rubbing at her sensitive core through her lace panties.

she was so shamefully soaked after oscars devotion to her breasts, and she needed some kind of release. she was almost certain that there was a damp spot forming on her lovers jeans as she ground against him.

oscar leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead before slipping his fingers underneath the fabric of her panties.

“you look too pretty in this set to take it off, baby.” he hummed, kissing over the red fabric, nuzzling into her skin as he rubbed his thumbs over her hipbones. “might just have to push them aside, but they’ll get stained badly when I make you see stars.”

“jesus, oscar, just do something!” she groaned, running her finger along his nose. “please?”

“anything for my girl.” he pushed her panties aside, gently pressing his lips to her sopping wet center, his tongue darting out to trace a heart on her lips.

she moaned, throwing her head back, her pelvis rising off the carpet to try and build more friction against her lover. she moaned his name, eyes fluttering closed as she began to see the stars he had promised her.

she was so lucky to have a man like oscar. a man who made her feel so confident in herself, treated her like a queen, and made sure that she got the calm, quiet love that she craved.

“fuck, baby. you taste fucking incredible.” he groaned, holding her thighs open, thumbs rubbing reassuring circles on her soft skin.

oscar could have spent all day between her thighs. hed always been a giver, but when he had the chance to spoil y/n, he was almost certain it made him way hotter than it made her. what could he say, acts of service was his love language.

and when she wrapped her thighs around his head, practically screaming his name, his tongue licking fat stripes up and down her opening, and over swollen her swollen clit?

he had to start thinking about tyre degradation to avoid coming in his jeans.

“fuck, oscar, baby.” she whined, tugging on his hair as his nose nudged her sensitive bud. (he moaned at the action) “just like that. god, that feels so fucking good.”

she could feel the band in her stomach begin to tighten, her thighs closing in around oscars head as pleasure spread around her lower body.

oscars tongue darted in and out of her, the lewd sounds filling the room. “are you going to come for me, pretty girl. yeah? yeah, that’s right, come on my tongue, princess.”

he slipped a finger in, and the sensation of his finger flexing while his tongue played with her sensitive, puffy clit made her cry out, rutting her hips into his face, grinding against his finger and trying to get herself off.

“oscar, im coming!” she cried, the coil in her stomach finally snapping as she cried out his name, fingernails leaving scratches in the skin on the back of his neck.

his hands gripped her thighs; he was holding himself up over the carpet on his forearms, his body shaking she coated the bottom of his face in evidence of her arousal. he moaned at the taste, sitting up on his knees and catching her eyes before sticking his finger in his mouth and sucking the salty fluid off his finger.

she smiled at him, face rosy and flushed. her limbs felt like jelly, arms giving out underneath her as she tried to prop herself up to kiss him. chuckling to himself, oscar braced his hands on either side of her head, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then her cheeks, and then the tip of her nose before, finally, her lips.

“I love you.” they both whispered, one after another, the room silent save for the low hum of the tv and the crackling in the fireplace.

“baby, as much as I would love to stay here with you, I am absolutley throbbing and if I am not inside of you in the next five minutes, I am going to lose it.” oscar chuckled, kissing her softly.

she smiled, giggling as he ran his hands over her flushed skin. “you know you’re going to throw your back out if we do this on the floor, right?”

“yeah, but it will be so totally worth it.” oscar laughed, kissing her forehead softly. “stay right here, and keep warm. I’ll be right back.”

she hated to see him go, but she loved to watch him leave, eyes zeroing in on both his impressive back muscles and the way his jeans hugged his backside. how did she get so lucky to land such a god of a boyfriend?

when he vanished into the bedroom, she stripped out of the corset, cringing when she noticed the reddened imprints left on her skin from where the wires dug into her. she pulled the santa hat off, dropping it pathetically to the carpet before pulling a blanket around her shoulders. she was slowly regaining feeling in her limbs, a feeling of contentment spreading through her stomach as oscar came back, a festive box in his hands,

“right, so your choices are peppermint, gingerbread and eggnog.” he grinned, tossing her three small packages before slipping out of his jeans.

her limbs tingled as she watched him undo his belt, his rock-hard cock straining against his flannel boxers. it was only when oscar sat down next to her, stealing half of the white knit throw blanket to wrap around his own shoulders, that she looked down at the packages in her hands.

they were christmas themed condoms, a reindeer face smiling up at her from the gingerbread one. she couldn’t help it when she burst out laughing, sniffing the peppermint package.

“oscar! what the fuck?” she managed through laughter. “you know the flavoured bit only counts if I’m sucking your dick right? and that’s not happening tonight.”

“they were a gag gift from lando.” oscar laughed, fiddling with one of the foil packets. “I brought out normal ones too; I don’t know how much I trust these ones anyways.”

she laughed, leaning over to kiss him. “thank you.”

“anything for my girl.” oscar deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to gently and politely explore the inside of her mouth, pushing her down onto the carpet once again, thigh pushing her legs apart.

he grinded against her sensitive core, trying to find some sort of relief for himself while also making sure that he lasted more than a minute when he finally got inside of her.

her legs curled around his waist, pulling him him closer as they made out, warm and sweaty skin sticking to each other as they warmed up by the fire.

he didn’t even need to pull away to make a grab for the discarded red hat, only drawing back to put it on before he extracted his cock from his boxer shorts.

she giggled, sitting up so she could take him in her hands, jerking him slightly before ripping open a condom package (just a regular one, not the peppermint one she knew he had been eyeing).

laughing to herself, she twirled the end of the hat in her fingers. “I should not find this as hot as I do. just so you know.”

“duly noted. are you ready for me, princess?”

she smiled at him, slipping out of her lacy panties before she straddled him, his sheathed cock teasing at her entrance, shivers running up her spine. “I wanna be on top. wanna ride your cock.”

and who was oscar to argue?

he gripped her hips, her hands on his shoulders as he positioned himself by her entrance. she was so wet that he slid right in, her fingernails leaving crescent marks on his shoulders as she winced, hiding her face in his neck.

“I know, sweet girl.” he moved his hands up and down her back. “i know it’s a lot to take, but you’re doing it so so well. you make the first move, sweetheart.”

she straightened her back, touching her nose to oscars as she began to slowly grind her hips, getting used to every inch of his dick splitting her in half.

“that’s it, pretty girl. nice and easy.” oscar groaned, palming her ass. “that’s it.”

with oscars hands guiding her, she began to pick up the pace, pulling up before sinking back down against his cock.

“fuck, baby, feels so good.” she whined, fingers tugging at the hairs on the nape of his neck. “feels so deep.” she reached for his hand, pressing it to her stomach to show oscar just how deep he actually was.

“yeah? yeah, this cock is all yours, baby. whenever you want it, you tell me. I’ll drop everything to give it to you.” he grunted, one hand gently smacking her ass. she yelped, hips startling before she smashed her lips to his, moving her hips in subtle circles.

he moaned into her mouth, thrusting up to meet her hips halfway, watching as her mouth dropped open in a guttural moan. “you like that, sweet girl? yeah, you just let me take over and fuck you until you’re all blissed out.”

he took the lead, planting his feet on the floor, one hand supporting his weight and the other holding his princess close, her perky, sensitive nipples pressed against his chest as he thrust up, his cock sliding in and out of her like it was nothing.

“oh, yes.” she whined.

“that’s my pretty girl. that’s my fucking girl.” he growled, rolling over so he was on top again. normally he loves it when she rode him, loved the intimacy that came with it.

but he was so pent up that he needed something more.

he slipped her legs over his shoulders, muscles rippling as he leaned forwards to thrust into her, balls slapping against her skin.

her hands gripped his shoulders, slipping down his chest and leaving little pink marks in their wake as he pounded in and out of her, the pom pom on the end of his festive hat dangling in her face

“fuck, I love being like this with you.” he rasped, fingers digging into the shag carpet. “being this close to you.” he started to kiss up the side of her throat, tongue occasionally darting out to lick the sweat off her skin. “you’re so fucking pretty like this, all blissed out and at peace on my cock. love making you feel good, honey.”

he allowed her legs to slide off his shoulders, leaning down to kiss her, swallowing her moan as he bit down on her lip.

“shit, I love your cock, oscar. I love having it inside of me. needed it so bad!” she cried, clinging to his upper body as she let him have his way with her.

she knew he knew what she wanted, what she liked. he could read her like the back of his hand, and she was so blessed to feel safe enough with him that she could just clear her mind and let oscar make her feel good.

“that’s my girl. taking it so well. how are you feeling, princess?”

“perfect.” she breathed, inhaling sharply as his cock brushed up against her walls. “absolutley perfect.” her eyes slammed shut as her walls started to contract, squeezing oscar’s cock for all it was worth

“are you going to come, pretty girl? come all over my thick cock?”

“yeah.” she whined, tears of pleasure pricking the corners of her eyes as he kept slamming into her. “yeah, I’m almost there.”

she almost didnt get to finish her sentence, oscars lips claiming hers against his own as he kissed her deeply, one feee hand coming down to play with her clit. she gripped his biceps tightly, moaning harshly against his lips as she felt herself clamp down on him, seeing stars as she started to let go.

“that’s it, princess. let go for me, cover my cock in your sweet sweet come. give it to me, sweet girl. I’ve got you,”

she came with a cry of his name, feeling her body go weak as all her energy evaporated. the motion triggered oscar’s own orgasm, his entire body shaking as he grunted (arguably louder than she did, back muscles rippling as his body tightened and then went slack) spilling into the latex shield before his arms gave out and he collapsed against her.

“I love you.” he mumbled, kissing her softly before gently pulling out. he reached behind him for the blanket, tucking it around her body before sliding a throw pillow underneath her head. “hang tight for me, baby. I’m gonna go make you a hot chocolate.”

he slipped the condom off, balling it up with the intention of chucking it in the garbage on his way to the kitchen, pulling his boxers back on before washing his hands and pulling two mugs out of the upper cabinets.

y/n watched him from her position on the floor, a soft smile on her face as she marvelled at the scratches on his back, and the pure soft domesticity of watching her lover make her a hot drink after he made her see stars.

he came back minutes later, with two mugs piled high with whipped cream and a foolish smile on his face.

“merry christmas, pretty girl.” he hummed, kissing her softly, not expecting anything more than what it was.

“merry christmas, oscar.”

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @twinkodium @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @cartierre @lorarri @thatsdemko @oconso @sidcrosbyspuck

[hazbinwhoree]

Come Inside

Part 2/2

A/N: The heavily requested part two.

“Well you fucking did it,” (Name) announced, storming into the living room where Adam was watching TV. “Did what,” he asked, mouth full of the ribs he was eating. (Name) threw something at him.

“Hey!” he yelped, the small object bouncing off his shoulder. He picked it up and the world stopped for a moment. It was a pregnancy test. And it was positive.

“Are you fucking with me?” Adam asked after a moment. “Does that look like I am fucking with you?” She had a point. (Name) was watching him anxiously. Adam looked back at her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I… I don’t know. How do you feel?” “Like I made good on a promise,” Adam smirked. (Name) threw a pillow at his head. “This is serious!” “I am serious!” Adam protested. “I said I’d put a baby in you and I did. You had no fuckin’ objections when we were doing it.”

(Name) groaned, flopping onto the couch next to him. “You’re telling me that you are ready to be a dad?” Adam placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “You say that like it’s an insane notion. I knew the risks, I knew this was a possibility. I wouldn’t have taken the chance if I wasn’t ready for it.”

(Name) teared up.

“Oh, shit, do you not want this?”

(Name) shook her head. “No, it’s just the hormones and the fact you actually want to have a baby with me.”

Adam laughed, pulling her into his lap. “Of course I want to have a baby with you. I wouldn’t have a baby with anyone else. Well, Eve, but I never raised Cain and Abel. In fact I was a completely absent dad–” “Babe.” Adam laughed, thinking about it. “I don’t know if that’s funny,” (Name) said.

Adam cleared his throat. “Point is, you make me want to be a father so long as you’re the mother.”

“You’re not gonna leave me and the baby like you left Cain and Abel?”

“Babe, Eve had Cain and Abel like right before she cheated on me. I wasn’t fuckin’ sticking around. Those kids are a mess too–” he laughed. “One killed the other!”

(Name) rolled her eyes, punching his shoulder. “The things you find funny are so fucked.” “Yeah but you love me,” Adam cooed, licking her cheek. (Name) squealed. “I hate when you do that! Just kiss me like a normal person, asshole!” Adam cackled.

The first trimester, it still hadn’t become a permanent thought in Adam’s head that he was going to be a father.

The second trimester, it became much more real and they started considering baby names and preparing a nursery.

The third trimster, was really bad for (Name). She was constantly exhausted, sore, hungry but sick to her stomach. The baby really did a number on her. By the time nine months rolls around, (Name) is more than ready to get this child out of her.

“GET IT OUT OF ME!” She screamed after pushing once. “Push again!” the midwife encouraged. (Name) screamed as she did.

Adam watched on in horror. He wasn’t there to witness Cain and Abel’s births, so he had no idea how brutal and scary childbirth was. He stroked back hair off her sweaty forehead, letting her squeeze the life out of his other hand.

Every time she screamed, Adam lost his shit a little bit.

“And push!” With one final push and a pained yell, (Name) delivered their baby.

It was a baby girl.

Adam had been reconsidering his eligibility for fatherhood. But when the nurse cleaned their baby off and placed her on (Name)’s chest, Adam was determined not to ruin a good thing. He may not be looking forward to the responsibilities of a father, but he would take them on for her sake.

In the following weeks, he really tries to help with the baby equally, but he’s pretty bad at it. He’d offered to take a few night shifts but would sleep straight through the baby’s crying, leaving (Name) to go soothe her. But he learned how to prepare a bottle of milk, and he learned how to change dirty diapers.

To his surprise, he actually didn’t find it all that difficult to bond with his child. (Name) even caught him baby talking once, which he fervently denies.

Months go by, and their daughter surprises them with her very first word… “Fuck!”

(Name) is appalled, Adam thinks it’s hilarious. She berates Adam for setting a bad example for the baby, when she shocks them with her second word. “Bitch.” Clear as day. Adam picks their daughter up and praises her. (Name) hits Adam’s arm.

Adam does his best to be a good husband and father, and while he’s not great at it, he is a present father and a loving husband.

[gay-dorito-dust]

YOOO I SEE U FELLOW UNUS ANUSER🫵🫵 i fucking love ur works keep at it bestie pls feed our delusions😫😫

may i ask for, dan heng, blade and jing yuan with a sweet and kind s/o but the moment theyre (the characters) are talked to in a disrespectful way, s/o is immediately turning into a guard dog with a “i’ll tear out your guts with my hand showed down your throat”? idk i just love feral but also gentle s/o tropes so much😔

Thank you 🫵 my fellow Unus Anuser for the ask and enjoying my writings, despite me thinking half of them could be better but I’m not going to complain if ppl enjoy them regardless.

Dan Heng:

He’s taken aback by your sudden threats of violence towards a random pedestrian for intentionally bumping into him.

He was more use to Caelus rummaging through trash cans before waxing poetry about them and whenever March 7th going off on her own as it was expected of their characters.

You however? His sweetheart, his precious jewel and beloved partner? It was extremely unexpected. Dan Heng had to physically stop you from actually fulfilling your threat by holding you against him before putting a good deal of distance between you and the rude individual.

He’s not against you defending his honour, he just doesn’t want you engaging in fights with random people just because they said something about him that you didn’t like. He didn’t want you to stoop to their level and become like them, no matter how good your reasonings for doing so may be. Dan Heng just wants you to be better than them and not give them the reaction that they needed to fuel their own narratives.

That and Dan Heng knew that you could easily kick their ass but he didn’t felt like dealing with being chased by the authorities for unprovoked acts of violence. However some exceptions can be made to this but Dan Heng would much rather that you kept out of trouble, just for his sake and his sanity as he didn’t want to make breaking you out of jail a reoccurring thing.

Jing Yuan:

His interest is peaked.

Who’d knew that someone as sweet and kind as you had such a vicious side, waiting to come out.

Jing Yuan didn’t care for much what others said about him, but having you come to his defence without hesitation had him smiling with pride. His reputation precedes him wherever he went, so naturally he wasn’t going to be easily intimidated by senseless yapping of others, especially those who had not even the slightest clue of the things he’s put himself through in order to get where he was.

While Jing Yuan appreciates your need to stick up for him, he didn’t think it was necessary for you to waste your time and energy on those who lack the capacity to listen to a voice that wasn’t their own.

‘Always pick your battles wisely my dear,’ he said all the while looking at the person who insulted him dead in the eye with that half asleep expression of his, ‘for most aren’t worth fighting in.’ He finishes before gently pulling you by the waist and walking away.

Blade:

He had an inkling that there was more to you than meets the eye. However he didn’t expect someone who went out of their way to feed stray kittens and puppies, patch up his wounds despite knowing he could heal, would ever spout such detailed threats towards another person.

He didn’t give two shits about what people said about him that he hasn’t heard before, he had long grown immune to ignore the comments from those who didn’t know him nor his past. Yet he couldn’t help but revel in the look of surprise on the persons face the words left your lips, chuckling softly at the countless possible thoughts that must be running through their head in that moment.

It was always the sweetest people that everyone was the least suspicious about, it was near enough impossible to fathom that they were capable of hurting anyone.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing is what described you best in this moment as Blade watched you with new found interest. He found this side of you rather exciting and wanted nothing more than to help you hone in on this side of you and use it to your advantage; Yet he found another part of himself wanting to be the one inciting violence, as he refuses you to tread the same path he did, he wouldn’t allow it.

After all he was the weapon.

He was the one stained in the blood of others.

He was the one that inflicted pain onto others and himself and it was something he will continue to do until death was finally granted to him in whatever form that may be. Blade will refuse you from ever embracing that side of yourself if it meant sending you on a projectory much like his own.

You were his light in the dark for a reason and while it was reassuring to know that you had what it took to fight back, Blade would much rather be the one to fight instead and to be the one to keep your hands clean of blood and violence overall.

[scromchz]

v for vendetta | elw (m.)

— your boss has seemingly had it out for you since day one.

contents. mean boss!ellie williams/intern!reader | smut, fluff | 3.1k

warnings. kinda loser!ellie, jelly ellie, cursing, mdni - smut, fingering, mild spit kink.

note. a reupload from prev blog with same name, with some edits. its a wee bit cringe to me so be prepared. but people seemed to like it so enjoy and happy pride month <3

© scromchz 2023 — all rights reserved.

Getting your foot into the corporate world was never going to be easy. You knew this before you even applied for the summer internship at the DarkHorse Tech conglomerate, well aware that you'd have to claw your way up from rock bottom without so much as chipping a manicured nail. But you were optimistic; freshly graduated from college, and ready to take the challenge head-on.

That was before you met Ellie Williams.

Boss to the company, and your personal tormenter. She made hell seem like a cozy vacation spot.

What you did to get under her skin was a mystery. Hell, you didn't even report to her directly. There were at least three meat shields between you and her within the hierarchy. But somewhere, somehow, you blipped onto her radar, and you have stayed there like a bad stain ever since.

She made your work life an agonizing affair, and nothing you ever did seem to please her. If anything it had the opposite effect. Paperwork you'd spent hours agonizing over was always a 'complete mess', and she'd keep you after hours in her office to belittle you without ever correcting any so-called mistakes.

She shoulder-checked you in the hallway and picked apart your appearance when nobody was around. It didn't matter if you were wearing a grandma sweater and a floor-length, shapeless skirt. She threatened to write you up for a dress code violation like you showed up in your birthday suit for casual Fridays.

You were sent on wild goose chases disguised as coffee runs to places that didn't even exist, then berated for arriving late and empty-handed. Or god forbid, with Starbucks. You were supposed to be doing data entry, for fucks sake. And if you were to so much as smile at one of your coworkers she would pop out of nowhere to tell you off for slacking, like a damn high-school hall monitor.

Anytime you tried to voice your grievances to your manager, they'd give you a sympathetic smile. What she says goes, they'd awkwardly relay, she's the boss. 

There was nothing you could do. She wielded all the power and flaunted it outright. During the mandatory bullying and harassment presentation she even singled you out, asking by name if you had any questions or if there was anything you 'didn't understand'. Message received. 

Today was no different.

She'd sent a pristine pile of cardstock flying out of your hands and onto the floor, tsking at you for being clumsy when she'd purposefully swiped at them. You had to get on your knees and meticulously pick up each one, all the while she loomed over you, a smug smile on her annoyingly perfect face.

Of course, you had to sacrifice your break to grab Ellie her own lunch from across town. While your coworkers got to enjoy their downtime in the breakroom you'd seen the inside of twice. You were exhausted, dropping her food off at her desk while she pretended you weren't there, but you couldn't even be bothered to care. That's not to say you didn't feel her eyes burning into your backside when you left.

What you didn't see was the furrow in her brows, concern lacing her heated gaze when she saw you were empty-handed. She knew for a fact she told you to get something for yourself when she handed over her card. Strike number one of the day. Not taking care of yourself was unacceptable. 

She kept a close eye on you through her one-way office window, which was easy considering she had your desk moved directly into her line of sight. You were hunched over your desk, periodically wiping at your tired eyes to keep focused.

Then your shit-stick fellow interns had the gall to shirk their duties onto you. Like rolling around in daddy's money made them incapable of using a fax machine. And you, sweet, sweet you, had the nerve to weakly smile and say no problem. Ellie's eyes narrowed, aggressively chewing on her straw like an angry gremlin. Oh, there's a fucking problem all right. Strike number two.

As the clock neared five-thirty, you were nearly home free. If only office fuckboy extraordinaire hadn't waltzed over to you. What happened next made Ellie see red.

He made you blush. Oh, hell no.

Faster than you could kindly reject Brad's offer to take you out, the door to Ellie's office swung open. The force smacked it harshly into the adjoining wall.

She dismissed everyone for the day, and in the same breath barked out your name. "In my office," her tone left no room for disagreements. "Now."

Brad sucked in his teeth, offering a 'good luck' before high tailing it out of there along with the rest of the office. You could already hear whispers of your name, musings of what you did this time to warrant such an explosive reaction. Nobody envied you.

With shaky limbs, you stood, cowering under the weight of her glare. She held open the door, forcing you to brush against her suit-clad chest. The click of the lock sent a shiver down your spine.

"Sit," she commanded. But clicked her tongue when you slid into your usual seat in front of her desk. "No, not there."

You looked around in confusion, thinking you'd misheard her over your thunderous heartbeat. She looked expectant. Not to mention pissed.

But a cursory scan of the room confirms your thoughts. There were no chairs besides Ellie's, and the one you occupied.

You were used to her outlandish demands, but this was a whole new level. She was being difficult just to be difficult. Did she expect you to sit criss-cross apple sauce at her feet?

You pause, reigning in your irritation. "I don't understand. Ms. Williams, is—“

Angling your neck in her direction, your speech falters. She's much closer than you anticipated. Leaning down, her face was mere inches from your own. Your cheeks heat, and you're momentarily struck by her looks from up close.

It pains you to admit it, after everything she's put you through. The very person who makes you dread waking up in the morning can make your tummy flutter at the same beat. She was good-looking, objectively speaking. With the whole freckle-faced, green-eyed thing going on. 

Plus she smelled good. Ugh.

Ellie's jaw clenches. "No. I don't think you do."

Before you can respond, probably with an unprofessional what the fuck, she's yanking you up out of your seat. You sputter, skin burning from the contact of her hand wrapped around your elbow. She uses it to maneuver you like a rag doll.

She purposefully steps forward as you stumble off-balanced and careen into her. Just when you think things couldn't get any stranger, Ellie abandons her hold on your arm, hooking around your waist instead, pressing your entire front into hers.

Her arms cage into you on either side of the desk, and it digs into your backside. "Your behavior today has been unacceptable. I should write you up—" 

Something in you snaps.

"Then do it!" You cut in. You'd heard this exact spiel a hundred times over. And despite her numerous threats, your record remained spotless. "I am so sick of this. What'd I even do to make you hate me so much?!"

Momentarily, you seem to stun her. Weakly she mutters, "I don't hate you."

"Yeah right," you scoff, throwing propriety out the window.

Both of you were crossing lines, and you had to accept that you'd likely be out of a job come morning. She was the boss, after all. Blinking away an onslaught of tears, you focus over her shoulder at the beige walls.

She doesn't let you avoid her gaze for long. To your dismay, both her hands grip your face, forcing you to meet her frantic eyes.

"I- fuck, I don't. Seriously. I just," her voice actually cracked. Panic gripped her clear as day, a stark contrast to her typical nonchalant persona. It kept you from stomping on her foot and high tailing it out of there, if only just to see this through and get some long-awaited answers. "I never meant to— oh, fuck it."

Her chapped lips crashed into yours and time stopped. She was actually kissing you.  

Frozen and wide-eyed, you see firsthand the way she melts. Her eyes flutter shut, pressing into you as close as possible so that you're forced backward — a few pens clattering off the desk

Never in your wildest dreams did you foresee this outcome. But for some inexplicable reason, you kiss her back.

Despite your shock, or the questions on the tip of your tongue. Your eyes shut, and your lips finally move against hers. A deep moan is pulled from the depths of her chest and into the slick heat of your mouth.

Grabbing at the lapels on Ellie's suit, you're pleased by how she bends to your whims, arching into you. Her hands wander, a timid quality you would've never attributed to her. She gives your lips chase when you pull away with a wet pwap.

"Why does this feel so, fuck-" you dazedly pant into her spit-slicked mouth. "So good."

"I can make you feel even better," she rushes out, thumbs massaging mindless circles into your hips. She looks drunk, glassy-eyed and flushed pink. "If you let me. Please."

Please. What a trip. You had half a mind to search the room for hidden prank-show cameras.

This new power you seem to hold over her thrums in your veins. It overshadows any lingering doubts, muting the little voice in your head that says this is a bad idea. Instead, you give into the giddy feeling, letting it rush to your head like fizzy soda bubbles. 

Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, you nod. "Then touch me."

Her eyes light up like a kid on christmas, and her lips stretch into a toothy smile. It's crooked—but hell, is it cute.

Ellie hitches your legs around her hips and pulls your weight into her arms, all the while lavishing your neck with deep sucks. Mindlessly she says things like sweet girl, and even a succession of garbled thank you's. It throws you for a loop; but you can’t deny the way it makes you ache.

Kicking the rolling chair out of the way, she takes you both down to the carpeted floor, laying you gently beneath her. After getting the green light, her hesitation melts away.

Slipping under your shirt, she hungrily palms your tits beneath your bra. The tips of her fingers are calloused, but that fact only seems to heighten your pleasure when they pinch your nipple. With the hand other cradling your skull, she licks into your mouth.

Distracted by her sweet taste, you're caught off guard when Ellie jams a knee between your thighs, forcing out a squeaky, embarrassing moan.

"Fuck," she detaches with a pop, sounding awestruck. Resting her forehead against yours, she peers down. If only she could burn the image of you grinding against her, she would; driven further mad by the feeling of your hot cunt, searing even through the layers separating you.

Suddenly she sits up, shedding her suit jacket and rolling her sleeves to the elbow. She's the picture of sin. Somehow you never realized she was so toned— and, is that a tattoo?

You follow her lead, wriggling out of your blouse and tossing it aside. She helps you with the rest of your clothes, eagerly dragging down your skirt and leaving you in just a pair of cotton panties and a bra. You shy under her unwavering stare, not used to feeling so seen.

"You're unreal," she breathes, resting her hand on your tummy. Her stare lingers on your clothed pussy, the wetness seeping through making it mold to your puffy lips. A proud smirk appears on her face. "You're soaking, fuck. Do ya' always get this wet?"

You squirm, grabbing hold of her wrist. Not to stop her, just with the intention to anchor yourself. "Ms. Will-"

"Ellie," she corrects. She splays her long fingers and slides downwards, stopping to fully cup your heat. "Can I?"

"Yes," you whine, feverish with need. Ellie glides your underwear down your legs, knocking your knees together and pushing them toward your chest for easier access. Once off, she stuffs them into her pocket with zero shame.

Hunkering down, she grips your inner thighs, thumbs maddeningly close to where you're throbbing for her. Splaying them wide for her viewing pleasure, she sucks in a breath and the first sight of your glistening cunt.

"Knew your pussy would be cute," her husky voice drawls. She spreads your sticky folds with her index and middle finger, a string of slick keeping them connected. Exposing your flushed clit and twitching hole, she puckers her lips and with a puh, spits directly inside. Fucking hell— your hips buck, brain short-circuiting.

She doesn't let you get far. Ellie just chuckles, pinning your lower belly with her forearm. Now that she had you like this, there was no running away. Not when you'd only gotten a taste of the pleasure she intended to bestow.

She massages your opening with her thumb, just dipping the tip inside to ease you into it, feeling like sweet torture. Your core gets all cramped up from clenching around nothing, winding yourself up up up. Finally, she slips two of those long fingers inside, knuckle deep.

Scrambling for purchase, your grip finds her wrist like a bracelet. It seems to be your go-to, and you carve out a permanent place there with your nails. So slowly it aches, she bottoms out before tentatively thrusting.

"Oh m'god," you babble, eyes rolling. "oh m'god, you're inside me. I can feel you inside—!"

Ellie shudders, both at your words and the feel of your hot, wet cunt wrapped around her. Taking a deep breath is a mistake; she just gets a lungful of your heady scent. Combined with the feeling of you soaking her hand, her eyes full on roll to the back of her head

"Jesus." Her palm slips up your stomach, taking in every tense of muscle as an orgasm winds up in your core.

Tucking her fingers up in search of your special little spot, Ellie prods a bit before bingo — you clench up tight. You can't think, let alone speak. You can't recall a time you'd ever come so fast, but every curl of her fingers has you climbing up higher and higher to that peak.

Needing to be closer, Ellie plants her free forearm next to your head, upping the pace with her other hand. It grants her a front-row seat to every micro-expression you make, and she tailors her movements to what has you reacting best.

"Look at me," she murmurs, nose grazing your cheek. It takes a moment to comply, her voice sounding far away like you're underwater. "Good girl."

"El," you gasp, legs beginning to shake. Your eyes locked, begging for something.

"I know," she hushes, pecking your lips. She watches with bated breath the way your face crumples when her palm fits against your aching clit. It's just what you need, and your thighs keep her trapped there, grinding back and forth.

In a matter of seconds that feel like a lifetime, you reach your breaking point, cumming around her fingers. Every spasm pushes out a wave of stringy-slick, dribbling down her curled wrist and onto the floor. You don't envy the poor soul who will have to clean it up.

Ellie gently eases you back down to earth, shushing you softly. You can't recall when she slipped out, but from the corner of your eye, you see her stuff them into her mouth.

"Shit," you mutter. As the haze of lust starts to clear up, regret takes its place. You just let your boss, who gets their rocks off making you miserable, finger you on the floor of her office. God dammit--

"Hey," she says gently. It's the opposite reaction you're expecting. Instead of kicking you out, she sits you up, slipping her big jacket around you. When you're decent, she grabs and cradles your hand in two of hers. "I meant what I said. I don't hate you. The opposite, actually."

"Wha-" at first you tilt your head in confusion. Then you really take her in. The shifty eyes, the way she’s pulling at her fingers, those red capped ears of hers. Everything clicks. Oh. "Oh."

It never escaped you how she never paid anyone else the same level of attention. That even at its worst, she never truly hurt you. Just menaced you enough to become a fixture in your life.

"Yeah," she trails off.

"If you're serious, I need you to promise me something."

Ellie's gaze snaps to yours, completely moon-eyed. Reinvigorated, she laces your fingers together, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "Anything."

"One, no more bullshit."

She winces but readily agrees. "Of course."

"And two," you continue before she can jump the gun. "You take me out on a real date."

This gets you a real kiss. "I'll fly you to fucking Paris, whatever you want. Money is no obstacle."

You laugh against her lips. Jesus, this girl. "How about dinner and a movie to start."

"Fuck yeah. Sounds perfect."

For a few minutes, you bask in the moment, exchanging kisses before beginning to redress. Balancing with a hand on the desk to get your shoes on, you pause, suddenly remembering something.

“Can we circle back to the seat thing?” You ask, referencing her ridiculous demand from earlier. “Where were you even going with that?”

It takes a few seconds for your question to register, her mind and body still fuzzy. Then she flushes red, from her neck to the tips of her ears. Was she blushing? Now you were beyond intrigued.

“The desk,” she stutters. Your big scary boss actually stutters. “I was gonna, you know,” she clears her throat as if to dislodge the words. 

Your grin is cheshire. “No, I don’t.”

“Like in the movies n’ stuff,” it’s as if it pains her to admit this. You eat it up. “I was gonna clear off the desk and make you sit there. It was supposed to be... sexy.”

You can’t help it. You laugh. “By 'clear' do you mean toss onto the floor?" You ask, eyeing the very breakable cutter on her desk. The image makes you laugh even harder, bellyaching. "You know that would’ve scared the shit out of me, right?”

Her pout deepens. Ellie buries her face into your neck, muffling her voice. “Shut up.”

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

I can’t stop thinking of demon! Adam going through development and reaching the point of like,, doing something nice without anyone telling him to do it, purely for the sake of doing it. Something he never would have done before. Even if it’s something as small as sitting down with you while you’re watching your favorite movie or show and not shitting on it the whole time, just to keep you company. Or something like that. I dunno. I’m just a sucker for slow burn subtextual romance.

THAT, and the reader seeing his face beneath the mask, looking him the eyes, and smiling a little. Even if they say nothing. I feel like that would stick with him.

Exactly. Demon!Adam lives in my head rent free now. I know this weren't a request of sorts but I kinda wrote something for this

random ficlet below

Demon!Adam x GN!reader (Fluff)

DemonSinner!Adam is something that plays on my mind a lot. He still doesn’t believe in the whole redemption shit that Charlie is laying down but if it gets him a glimpse of seeing heaven again he is willing to try.

-----

Adam was bored and needed something to do that would put off the inevitable “therapy” session with Lucifer’s brat later. So that must be why he finds himself outside your room. He knocks lightly on your door. You didn’t answer, he knocked again louder this time. Still no answer. So he opens the door and peers in.

“Hey errr (Y/n) Charlie asked me to check on you.” A blatant lie but he won’t tell you that.

He sees you’re watching TV.

“Huh? What no shitty nickname this time?” You mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn. Adam walks over and flops down on the couch next to you.

“Oh yeah, nah I didn’t really feel like it.” He grabs a handful of your popcorn.

You quirk a brow.

“Also Charlie said nooo giving nicknames to people that demean them and also who don’t want it and people were given names to be used blah blah blah.” He shoves the popcorn into his mouth. “So what are we watchin?”

“I'm watching a movie I really like so if you're staying either shut up or fuck off.�� You sink back into your blanket cocoon.

*10 minutes later*

“What the fuck! This guy clearly likes her but she goes for the other bozo. Is she blind . . . . as well as ya know hot.”

You choke on your drink. You didn’t think that this would be his kinda thing but here he was emotionally invested in the film you had picked. You had really wanted to just wallow in your depression by binge watching trashy romcoms but what was really making you feel better was watching the ‘dickmaster’ himself rooting for the underdog to open up about his feelings to the lead woman.

You go to grab some popcorn but see the bowl is empty.

“Gotta pause.” You go to stand but he stops you.

“I got this.” He hides the good deed by quickly saying “And I need to piss anyway.” You pass him the bowl.

“Not in the popcorn I hope.” You rearrange yourself back in your blanket burrito.

“HAA, You nasty but don’t watch without me. Coz that is a dick move.”

“You know all about those.” You mutter into the blanket. But Adam had gone to the hotel kitchen to make popcorn.

You chose to scroll on your phone until he got back. There were a few messages but you didn’t really feel like answering them. You flop on your side. You can always move when he came back.

While you waited in silence for Adam. You think back on how he really was getting better. After seeing him slowly open up to Charlie’s ideas and seeing that he can be a good guy when it suits him. You smile to yourself.

Your door slams open.

“Okay I’m back bitch.”

Nevermind looks like he has thrown up his walls again.

He lays out the armful of snacks and the bowl of popcorn that looks way bigger than the bowl he left with. He sees you on your side.

“You comfy down there?”

You groan and slowly sit up again. He sits back down but wraps an arm around you and hugs you into his side and nothing more.

“Okay we can continue now.” He grabs the popcorn and rests it on his lap.

You set the movie going again and snuggle just a little bit closer. For popcorn reasons of course not that Adam was nice and warm and you felt safe next to him.

“Clearly she don’t know a good thing when she sees it.” You pipe up after about three minutes into the film again. You had seen this film so many times but there was one scene that always brought out annoyance in you.

“Right!! She needs to open her eyes this guy clearly loves her for who they are and not some fake ass bs that other . . . what?” Adam stops mid-sentence looking down at you resting against his chest.

You blink a few times before realising you are staring “Huh oh nothing.”

You focus back on the screen in front of you.

The climatic end of the film was approaching and the main lead were confessing their love and as the credits role you can here someone crying. You glance up and see Adam wiping away tears.

“You okay.” You sit up and reach for the tissues on the table to hand them to him.

“What!!! I’m fine. Of course I’m fiiiine. Shut up bitch.” He grabs the tissue box from you.

“If it helps I cried the first time I watched this movie.” You wrap the blankets tighter around yourself.

“I . . . ah . . shit.” He saw you curling further in on yourself. He feels guilt crawling into his stomach. “Sorry, I’m . . .Ugh. Look I’m bad at these feel your feelings crap that Charlie spouts. But it was a good film and yeah I cried but . . .”

“It don’t make you any less of a man.”

“Yeeeah I know. Of course I know. I’m the first man.”

“Huh back to that are we.” You bump shoulders with him, making him laugh.

He pulls you back into his side “So what are we watching now?”

------

I really didn't mean for this to be as long as it was. I'm sorry

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Can you write a Platonic fic for the characters?

If so may I request the school bus graveyard characters and an older sibling like reader

(Of course! Enjoy!)

Older Sibling-Like Reader

Aiden

This man is literally never leaving you alone 

There are pros and cons with being a comfort place for Aiden

But to get something straight Aiden is definitely kept in line by you

All is takes is one look and he is definitely knowing he's gonna get an ear full

But knowing him, he keeps going

It’s Aiden, for god's sake

He is kinda bummed in his own mind on how you’re not actually his blood related sibling

He could have used you a whole lot when he was going through stuff growing up

He thinks you would have made it a little better

But he’s happy he now knows you and that you’re his unofficial sibling now

Against your will of course

He’s the annoying little brother for sure

Your friends are now his friends and his friends are definitely your friends

It’s a given

He is always dragging you into all his shit so of course when stuff is happening with those fucking demons man you are right there with him

You have literally no escape from this man

The sibling to just come into your room, mess with your hit, check himself out in the mirror, push your phone into your face and walk out

Ben

He is more subtly protective of the people he loves

Especially when that fight went down when Logan was trying to help out that kid

He values you a lot even if he physically cannot say it

He is always subconsciously next to you because he finds your aura a bit comforting

Especially because you took on that older sibling role

He’s taller, people find him intimidating so he never really had anyone be the one to comfort him or to be the one that treated him like how you do

It was something new for him and he turned out to really like it

He doesn’t say it out loud but he does love and care for you

He would literally fight to hell and back for you, anyone he loves he would but you especially

In the dream world place shit he is definitely by your and Aiden's side the whole time

Gotta protect his honorary siblings

He may not show it but he loves when you treat him like a casual younger sibling

Even if its sibling arguing or fighting he loves being treated like a blood related sibling by you

He finds it comforting 

He likes little things like that

He needs an older sibling so bad bro cause like what??

Logan

YOU BETTER STICK UP FOR HIS ASS

If you were friends from before that field trip happened you better have stuck up for him

But even if you werent and you found out that shit was going down??

That was when Logan actually started thinking of you as an older sibling like person to him

Just the way you got mad, showed you cared and comforted him and how you went up to go pick a fight because you got ticked off about how he got treated

It was nice to know somebody cared about him in that way

He doesn’t really have anyone like that to do that shit for him

He’s always been kind of alone in that department so for you to step in and help him like that?

It was refreshing in a way and he doesn’t want to lose that

And it just was a bit jarring to him at how much you cared

If you do small things like do sibling like picking on him, or protecting him, or ruffling his hair, messing up his shit playfully and stuff like that

He may pretend to get annoyed but he does find it fun and will do it back to yo

People look at you guys and just from how you act are shocked at how y’all are not in any way related

He does wish you guys were

His life would be a lot better if you were his older sibling, he thinks

Tyler

He’s the stereotypical “I don’t care!” and “I don’t need it!” type of person to anyone else but to Taylor and you?

He’s different towards his siblings

It was just very natural in a way when you somehow became that older sibling like role for him

He was somewhat relieved he didn’t have to hold the entire older sibling burden on his shoulders anymore

He may appear to not need the help or want that type or care for himself but let me tell you something

He needs it, and he probably secretly craves it

He’s always been the stronger one, even if he is a twin he felt he needed to be that for Taylor because if not him who else?

And all older siblings know that burden

So he may not show it but he definitely finds a bit of comfort and solace in you being that for him

He won’t break down, he won’t do what other people might do to show they appreciate it, or he may not even really speak on it

But he shows he does in little actions like protecting you, checking up on you and helping you in ways he would only usually help Taylor in

He does need that older sibling care though because mans is probably gonna have a breakdown

In the hospital scene he ran to both you and Taylor and you guys were the only thing on his mind as he kept running 

That was probably the tightest hug you have ever gotten from him

Everyone probably thought he was going to you guys to comfort y’all or that he was worried about you guys

Don't get me wrong, he was both those things

But he was also terrified and holding onto you, his older sibling, because he needed your comfort then

Taylor

She really appreciates you

She loves having older siblings

She may not really like the cons that come with being treated like the baby of the family or being younger but she loves having the comfort of older siblings

It’s like a blanket and safety net she can’t describe to anyone else

She may have only started out with Tyler but she somehow found you along the way and she has never been more happy

She is very protective over her siblings also

Even if you’re not biologically her sibling she is just the same with you

She’s always happy to be around you, to annoy you and even in the bad times

In the dream like hell you guys go to everyday at night she always is around either you or Tyler

You guys bring her a comfort she can’t describe but a comfort she always wants to be around

She is terrified of you guys getting hurt, especially after what happened to Tyler

She sometimes forgets you’re not biologically her sibling

But does she care??

No. She does not care one bit.

Ashley

It may have taken some time for Ash to even be comfortable or even acknowledge how she feels like you’re an older sibling to her

She’s an only child so she’s never experienced a sibling-like bond before

So to have you appear in her life so suddenly caught her off guard

Especially with how you showed you cared, or how you treated her like someone would treat their sibling

But she actually liked it

She gravitated towards it when she got more comfortable with the thought or when she needed it

Especially when shit gets hard in the hell you guys are all forced into at night

She likes that you have her back and she has yours 

It’s a protective thing she loves

And like Tyler she is happy to not have to hold the entire burden of everything just because she’s older

Her parents more likely like you as well just because f how much their daughter does

Ash has you over a lot, everyone else as well, so much so your stuff probably is around her room a lot

Ash may not be used to having an older sibling to go to but when she does?

She can’t help but like it

It’s a foreign comfort to her

But she likes it, a lot

[jaemmphilia]

★ 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯: 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺

kinktober 2023 - masterlist ★ includes: heeseung ★ warnings: explicit content, virginnnnnn gang, heeseung is the inexperienced one in this case © triplejracha, 2023. please do not copy to any other platform.

Heeseung hovers above you as the two of you kiss lazily on his bed in his dorm. The rest of the group went out to eat and you wanted to tag along, but Jay told you that Heeseung had something private to tell you.

That's how you ended up under Heeseung, his lips lightly pressing against your neck. He told you that he was ready to fuck you, that he was ready to take that giant leap.

Who were you to deny him of that?

You guide Heeseung through it all, starting with prepping you for his cock. You have your legs spread before him, your puckered rim on display for him.

"Wet your pointer and middle fingers, Seung." You tell him, watching as he sticks his fingers in his mouth, successfully wetting the digits.

Heeseung doesn't wait for your next step, taking matters into his own hands as he circles your rim with his wet fingers. He then slips his pointer finger passed the ring of muscle. He was not prepared for the muscles to clamp down on his finger so tightly, his eyes go wide.

"Damn, in the videos it didn't look like this.." Heeseung says under his breath and you laugh.

"You watched videos?" You question him with a laugh.

Heeseung nods and wonders why you find it so amusing that he was prepared for this.

"You know those videos are the worst thing you could watch it you plan on losing your virginity, right?" You ask, watching Heeseung go red in the cheeks and ears.

"I didn't know that.." He starts, looking away from you to try and hide his embarrassment.

"It's okay. Just let me guide you, ignore whatever you saw in those videos." You reassure him, tapping his arm lovingly.

Heeseung nods, his finger wiggling inside you. He chuckles when your face twists up. He slowly begins to move his finger in and out of you. You let out soft hums when he does, biting your lip.

Heeseung decides to add in his middle finger, watching as your rim expands around his digits. He then works you open, taking it slow for your sake.

He knows that this isn't your first time and that you have plenty of experience, but he's also doing it for himself. He is aware the he isn't the smallest, he's actually quite long and fairly thick.

Heeseung watches the small bead of white gathering at your tip as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. You're letting out the prettiest noises, calling out his name in between moans and whines.

Heeseung soon has three fingers inside you, and you keep squeezing and sucking him back inside every time he pulls his fingers out. He's impressed that your body is strong enough to do something like that.

"I need you inside me, like, right now." You demand, and Heeseung wastes no time in ridding himself of his clothes.

Heeseung stands naked before you, his cock standing tall and proud against his stomach. You lick your lips as you stare. "Come on, spit on it and ease it inside." You tell him, and he does so.

Heeseung gathers a glob of spit in his mouth and allows it to dribble out of his mouth and onto his aching cock. He rubs the saliva all over his cock, hoping the slide will be good enough.

He hovers over you, lining his cock up with your entrance. You both brace yourselves as Heeseung slowly pushes his cockhead passed your rim. You both let out groans at the sensation and Heeseung doesn't go any further, afraid he might bust immediately.

After waiting for what feels like forever, Heeseung musters up the confidence to push in further. He struggles at first because of how tight you are and the fact that you're squeezing him to death.

He gets about halfway before he's pausing again, his head hung low as his breathing picks up. He feels so much pleasure that he isn't used to and he doesn't know how the dudes in the videos lasted for several minutes. Heeseung feels like he might last 30 seconds before spilling.

Once he gets his full length inside you, he begins to pump into you, going slow at first. He pants above you like a dog in heat that can't control his urges.

Heeseung uses his free hand to stroke your cock in time with his sloppy thrusts. You place your hand over his to show him how you like to be stroked. He takes a second but soon gets the hang of it.

The two of you end up finishing rather quickly, the pleasure too much to hold back any longer. Heeseung was courteous and pulled out before spilling all over your stomach. He breathes heavily as his body slumps on top of you.

You chuckle and push him off of you so that the mixture of his and your cum doesn't get all over the bed. You both hear the door unlocking and you panic as you stare at each other.

[romanoffsbish]

The Ultimate Prize

Wanda Maximoff x Reader (No pronouns or gender specific body parts used)

Prompt Request (done backwards 😳🙃) | Wanda decides to challenge your resolve | WC: 2,416

Smut: Oral | Fingering | Glass Dildo / Temp Play | Choking | Degradation / Praising | Overstimulation | Squirting (W)

18+ | Minors DNI

"I'm bored," Wanda bemoaned, you didn't even spare her a glance so she raised the stakes, "Wanna play?"

You hummed, the only answer she'd get so early in the morning. Wanda practically squealed at your attention, but she didn't, instead she somehow kept her cool, sliding into your lap as she seductively dropped her tone, "First person to become turned on loses."

——

You ruminated on her taunting words for a few moments, waking up the rest of the way for the sake of the proposition at hand, you could already feel her heat. You leaned in closer, lips softly brushing as you chuckled, "Wouldn't you be winning though?" Wanda tilted her head, amusing you further. "If you so much as smell needy, I'll devour you whole pretty girl."

Wanda whined, she'd already failed before the game even began, she felt her panties sticking to her core. She'd had quite the dream about you, and the thoughts had yet to cease to flow through her conscious mind. It was something you'd picked up on, actually, it was her prior squirming that roused you into consciousness.

You kissed her right then, with so much force that you had to wrap your arms around her curvy figure to keep her from falling. Wanda gasped in fear at the sway of her body, allowing you to slip your tongue right over hers before it caressed the back of her teeth. You let her suckle on your muscle as you laid her flat on the mattress and slid your knee between her silky thighs.

"How bad do you want me, my love?" Wanda couldn't speak, she sinfully whimpered, pressing her core into your knee as she did, like a desperate whore. You chuckled devilishly in reply, "I'm gonna do the type of things that happen in your dreams."

The witch gulped as she saw the intensity in your eyes, a spark of fear shot throughout her body and she was squirming on the bed. The need was palpable, and you almost wanted to tease her, but you were just as horny, so you chose to jump straight into action instead. The redhead gazed up at you in wonder, eyes tracking the way your tongue wet your upturned lips. You were so cocky sometimes that it made her feel embarrassed.

This effect you had on her was borderline sinister, but fuck if it wasn't everything she needed, you were her addiction, and you very well knew it. "Open your legs wide for me darling," you purred and they instantly fell slack against the mattress, her hips stopped gyrating down and she waited for instruction. "What a good girl, who could've guessed you'd also be such a slut."

There were no more words, only direct action from you. Wanda cried out as you folded her body like a pretzel, her lower spine curved off of the mattress, her knees now settled on either side of her head and your tongue dove as deeply as it could into her warmth.

The sounds you made as you moved your head about while sucking and licking were lewd, and profitable. You couldn't help it, it was a purely carnal response. It was like heaven on earth, no one could ever compare to your beautiful, sweet witch. The one that would cook you a five star meal, and when you'd let her she'd feed it to you, but truthfully you always preferred dessert, usually before the entree; she never seemed to mind.

Your girlfriend was insatiable, just the same as you. Most mornings, if she actually made it to the kitchen, you'd find her cooking breakfast, in nothing but panties and an apron that read—Kiss the Chef, with an arrow that pointed down, an open invitation of sorts.

One that you dutifully accepted every single time.

Even with her body twisted, ankles crossed over one another behind your neck, Wanda was meeting your tongue with thrusts of her own, proving her strength went beyond her powers, her abs were well toned.

Wetness smeared all over your face, and you prayed that your pores would hold onto her scent for a while. People ask you for your skincare routine all the time, but nobody ever believes you when you say Wanda. They usually laugh it off, and you would just follow as it saved you the trouble of any forging competition.

You weren't exactly worried, listening to the way your girlfriend moaned your name was enough reassurance, but it was nice to know no one was trying to take her.

Wanda was too lost in the pleasure to feel the way you possessively gripped her thighs as your thoughts ran, holding her open so that you could devour her wholly. Nobody else could ever match your efficiency as you had her crying out, that gorgeous body of hers writhing in the air as her pussy creamed in mere minutes.

The witch wasn't ever going to leave, she found solace in your eyes, and unbound pleasure on your tongue. It truly was, as the people say, the best of both worlds.

As your lovers back curved in a downwards slump you knew it was time to offer her strained spine reprieve. So, with a far more gentle touch you lowered her onto the mattress, allowing her legs to unravel, milky thighs touched base with the sheets and she sighed in thanks as your lips continued to make out with her lower set.

A hum of satisfaction left you as her arousal continued to seep from her, the sticky remnants dribbled down your chin and soaked into the fabric of your nightshirt, which felt uncomfortable against your skin now, but you couldn't be bothered to stop what you were doing. Far too engrossed in the feeling of her walls trying to suck your tongue back inside, Wanda whined in unison, shamelessly expressing her need. You met her frustrated cries with two fingers that entered her and you immediately scissored them, stretching out the walls that worked overtime to keep them restrained.

With every thrust into her she became increasingly mindless, the most powerful, feared being on any Earth, and yet she crumbled so easily for you. You chuckled at the endearing thought, adding to her pleasure as your lips were wrapped around her clit.

Your free hand had been groping her breasts, deft fingers pinched at her nipples, your eyes peered up to see the fruits of your labor unfold; she looked ethereal, her mouth permanently agape, eyes crossed with beads of sweat illuminated beneath the early morning rays.

This unrelenting urge to be closer to her overtook you, even with your fingers buried deep inside her it wasn't enough, it never was. You briefly paused, ignoring her groans as you tore your own shirt off, and found that alone calmed the witch. Her glossy eyes ran over the nudity she'd been yet to see, and she smiled tiredly. You winked, enjoying the way her cheeks somehow managed to darken, as if being caught was a crime.

Wanda was always shy like this, even in the midst of passionate moments, she never lost the bashfulness. It was overall adorable, sometimes distracting, but not in this case because just as quickly as you'd pulled away you were back on her. Entering her with the addition of two more fingers, and with wet, plump lips that were more than prepared to catch her moans as they were violently ripped from her constricted throat. You felt the way the muscle bobbed beneath your hand and couldn't help but to grin against her lips and cheek.

The redhead had casually mentioned wanting to be choked a few months back, but up until now you'd only ever teased her. Whether that be when she asked you to help her with her necklace before a party, and you jokingly placed your hand there instead, or when you two would make love, your fingers would wrap around her throat, but never offered the pressure she craved.

Until today, when you made all her dreams come true.

Wanda came with a choked down scream, no sound left her but you felt the pleasure against your palms. There were no aftershocks, only continued writhing as you sought to overstimulate her, she whined, and weakly pushed at your chest, but you were determined.

"You asked for this baby, so take it like a good girl," you purred against the side of her neck, kissing over the red lines you'd left behind. Your lips trailed over her perfect jawline until they were back against hers where she sloppily kissed you. Her fingers dug into your shoulder blades as another wave of warm arousal gushed out of her, and pooled in your palm.

Wanda was panting wildly, in need of a minute, so you softly kissed all over her face to give her one. Without much effort you reached beside your marital bed and into a mini fridge, designated only for a variety of toys and mini waters. You pulled a bottle out, and took a long swig down before giving her the remaining sip. Wanda groaned in satisfaction, the cool liquid helping to ease her parched throat, but it dried up once more. Tired green eyes had found yours, and she knew it wasn't time for a nap, the darkness that enveloped your orbs meant she unlocked your true potential.

Then she felt it—a chilled tip against her warm hole. For a moment she wondered if it was you who could read minds, because her wet dream was unfolding in perfect harmony. You'd yet to tell her that she talks in her sleep... The way she moaned was a distinct praise.

The chilled glass dildo you used was unlike any other you two had used before, Wanda could tell you'd updated your inventory. This one was crafted with red and white swirls, almost like a candy cane but without the curve. It was undeniably thick too, you struggled to enter her, pushing beyond the resistance, which meant she felt every groove as it prodded against her used walls. Even with her slick, it got caught on her entrance as the icy layer offered further resistance to your harsh push. Wanda had to wait for reprieve, she needed you to pull out and ruthlessly ram it back inside repeatedly, but you were making her wait for the toy to warm up.

Every time she's complained before you just go slower, so she just took this time to breathe, especially since you've already given her three toe curling orgasms.

Her slow breathing actually helped in allowing a few inches of the glass to slip in with ease, Wanda shivered, from the cold or pleasure you weren't too sure, until a soft whimper left her cracked lips to insinuate both.

"Does it feel good baby?" Your voice was silky smooth, and sensual enough to make her cunt swallow the rest of the dildo up. Wanda swore in Sokovian under her breath as soon as she felt the fullness, her mind was too hazy to actually register your words cognitively. "Answer me, or I won't move." That she did hear, and she wracked her brain for the prior sentence, offering you a meek, "So good," just to get you to make it better.

You chuckled, "there's my good girl," a deep raspiness enveloped your words and made her walls flutter as you began to pick up a steady pace. In, out—in, out that's the way you did it until she was too used to the pattern. Her body was engaged, her slick seeping into the sheets beneath her proof enough, but it wasn't thrilled, so you swirled the dildo every few entries.

Her hips would jolt up with each swirl against her spot, just for you to press them back down to make sure she took it only as you intended. Wanda began to scream out her Sokovian expletives the more you gave, her eyes crossed and blurred whenever you bottomed out.

"Oh fuck," she cried out, hands clawing into your sides as she needed something to ground her. "You're doing so good for me baby, your pretty pussy's loving this." You winced against the skin of her neck, and bit down into it as her nails dragged down your sides, it was too much, your teasing words, and the mix of sensations.

It was jarring, really, the way that everything was contradicting, one second her body was frozen as the frigid cold encapsulated her senses, then it was like fire was blooming throughout her body with the friction. Wanda mewled as your tongue hotly slid up her throat, collecting the drops of sweat that began to roll, her skin so hot that the action actually cooled her down.

The pleasure that came from such a mix of feeling pushed her over the edge, hard. Her cunt sounded off, warm slick sloshed all over your exposed abdomen and you both groaned at the feeling. Everything went dark for the witch, her body all but shutting down as yours became more lively. You peered down to watch her arousal pour out of her aggravated hole, it had pulled the dildo in further before repelling it back out.

"You are just perfect," you keened while kissing her roughly. You tossed the glass piece onto the sheets somewhere while your lips moved with hers. It was a slow, sensual process the way you kissed her down from her high. Your hips softly ground into her pelvis, but you were careful not to push her too far, just moving enough to finally relieve your own aching sex.

It was subtle until you moaned into her mouth, the way your body shivered atop of hers enough of a sign. It was hot, and Wanda wanted to flip you over, but she was too tired. There was however a tease on the tip of her tongue, but you cut her off with your own as you laughed, "Looks like you failed." Wanda blinked harshly in disbelief, she truly thought she could hold up the illusion for a bit of teasing, yet she didn't even kiss you into mutual desperation. "What's my prize?"

"You can do whatever you want to me Y/N," Wanda gave up her illusionary grip on control, even if the truth was clear that you both lost. "Whenever I want?" She nodded rather enthusiastically, you grinned and softly pecked her lips. "Oh, you beautiful fool..."

——

[gracieheartspedro]

Beggin' for Thread

part 2 of Trash Talk

pairing: fem!reader x abby anderson (post outbreak, set before the events of tlou2)

description: being stuck with abby and him-who-should-not-be-named on a mission is already a big problem. especially when you're not on your a-game. abby ends up saving your ass. but hey, it may not all be in vain. shit starts to get a bit better.

word count: 9.2k (HAHAHA I got wild with this one.)

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, no use of y/n, no real descriptions of reader, nsfw, smut, wlw, some slight bullying, this part has a lot of murder in it (so if you're not good with violence, pls skip out), use of guns, graphic description of dead bodies, ow*n is in a lot of this (sorry), dom!abby, abby giving reader a bed bath, fingering, eating out, use of a strap on, dirty talk, name calling. someone lowkey walking in on sexy time? if I missed anything, please let me know.

author's note: the wait is over! the love on part 1 blows me away. I love you guys so fucking much. you each make my heart so happy. thank you thank you thank you!!

“Hey, Heartless. Glad you could join us today.”

His voice makes your skin crawl. You rub your eyes, trying to clear the haze out of your vision. You’re overly exhausted. After Abby left, you never found sleep. You could not get her out of your mind. She left you disoriented. 

“Hey, Owen,” You mutter, his name tastes disgusting in your mouth. He was gross to look at, let alone talk to. You decide to occupy your mind by checking over the guns you were just dispensed while you sit and wait for the jeep you would be loaded into gets gassed up. 

“Heard you and Abby got into it.”

You heart stops. He can’t know?

You hold your composure, not even flinching at the question. If he did know, you’re just going to deny it and tell him to fuck off. 

“What are you talking about?” You play dumb, not ever looking up to meet Owen’s gaze above you. 

“Manny told me you were going in on her yesterday,” He sounds a bit unnerved when he says it. You stop checking over your gun, finally meeting his eyes. Before you can respond, you cock the gun before flicking the safety on. 

“It’s not my fault she can’t pull her fuckin’ punches. We could’ve easily been picked off one by one since she didn’t want to unload her gun at some Scars.”

You don’t even realize how bitter you sound until it all comes out like word vomit. You weren’t even that angry about that, you knew you could handle it all alone. It was the fact that she left you hanging last night and became cold so quick. 

Owen chuckles, “Take it easy, dude. I’m just wonderin’ why you think it’s okay to talk to her like that.”

He’s sizing you up. Typical of a man like Owen. 

You stand up, knowing damn well it was the wrong day for him to do some shit like this to you. 

You sling your rifle over your shoulder, “I’m not in the mood to answer to some fuck ass like you. And I’m also sure your new nurse girlfriend wouldn’t like to hear that her boyfriend is trying to stick up for his ex.”

“Don’t bring Mel into this,” He begins, his stance shifting, “You don’t get to talk about her.”

“And you don’t get to weasel your way into my business because you’re some entitled idiot who thinks every woman owes you something,” You begin to side step past him, “For all our sake, keep your mouth shut and leave the leading to the girls.”

You don’t listen to the rest of the shit he spouts at you. You walk towards Manny, who’s standing next to another guy, you think his name is Alex. You give him a slight nod of acknowledgment. 

“Hey there, cariño,” Manny says a smile creeping across his face, “Sleep well?”

Your skin crawls.

“Like a baby,” You mumble, your eyes feeling heavy as you respond, “Who are we waiting for?”

“Abby and Leah will be here any minute,” Alex explains as he finishes filling the jeep with fuel, “Think they went to grab some breakfast.”

Hearing Abby’s name next to another girl's name made your throat tighten. You can’t be jealous. She’s not yours.

Just as you’re about to say something about being late to your checkpoint, Manny's eyes avert up to the door leading into the stadium. Abby and Leah appear, both holding a plethora of breakfast burritos. Your stomach had been upset all morning because of anxiety, so the idea of food makes you want to hurl. You observe Abby and Leah hand each foiled wrapped tortilla to everyone, making jokes about being late. 

Abby’s eyes lock onto yours as soon as her head turns in your direction. She blinks before avoiding your gaze for Manny’s.

“Nice for you guys to join us,” Alex jokes as Leah walks towards him with an extended hand, burrito in tow. 

You scoff, “Yeah, we should’ve left 20 minutes ago.”

Abby’s face drops from a soft smile to a deadly glare. She gives Manny a burrito, her hands holding two remaining. 

One was meant for you. 

“Yeah? Well you should’ve gotten a head start by yourself. Cleared the way for everyone.”

Her sharpness filled you with rage. She extends some foil towards you. Before you can even say anything, your instincts are to swat her arm away. The burrito flies out of her hand, splattering across the concrete floor. 

“What the fuck,” She yells, her eyes trained on your deadpan expression. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you glance back to a stern looking Manny. He doesn’t want a repeat of yesterday. 

You look back at Abby’s furrowed eyebrows, her scrunched face causing sharp pains to go across your chest. 

“I don’t like burritos.”

She shakes her head, “So you launch it out of my fuckin’ hands when someone else could’ve eaten it?!”

You don’t say anything, just turn and begin your climb up onto the jeep. You slip onto the spot you found yourself in yesterday, closest to the passenger side. 

You watch everyone hesitantly get in behind you. 

-

“Are you okay taking the top floors with Owen and Abby? Or do you want to come with me and Leah?”

Manny is adjusting his rifle on his shoulder. You all arrived to the skyscraper you heard Scars were trying to take over to get some higher ground on a popular WLF route. Your goal is to take out every Scar there and prepare it for WLF occupation. 

Manny wanted to make sure you would not act up for Abby and Owen. He didn’t want to deal with the fallout if there was another incident involving you. He really liked you, he didn’t want to see you getting chewed out or possibly killed. You appreciated him looking out for you. 

“That’s fine,” you settle your hands confidently on your gun, “I will be on my best behavior, Manny. Promise.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

You stay back from the rest of the group as you all walk quietly through the destroyed streets of Seattle. Luckily this area wasn’t consistently flooded, so you didn’t have to wade through any filthy water today. 

Abby walks in front of you next to Leah and Owen. You stare at her backside, trying not to make yourself too obvious. You need to cut it out, you need to focus. 

When you all finally make it to the building, you huddle in with the group to remind each person where they are going. You and Manny hashed it out already so you want to be positive you knew where everyone would be if all hell broke loose. 

Owen cringes when he hears that you’d be joining him and Abby. 

You all split up to your designated places. You let Owen lead not wanting to argue when Scars could be on any corner. He starts towards a staircase, his gun trained forward. You follow him before Abby does, which means she gets to be behind you now. You three head up each staircase, your guns resting on your shoulders. You are as quiet as mice, your footfalls silent. 

Owen stops, turning back to you and Abby. 

“I hear them,” He whispers, pointing up the flight you have yet to go up. You nod, gesturing him to press forward. He continues on. This is when your adrenaline turns to numbness. You forget the emotions you had before you were in this staircase, they are now replaced with pure instinct. 

Owen creeps open the door and that’s when you hear it. 

A whistle from behind you. 

You snap back, your finger and eyes reacting at the same time. A single Scar with their bow trained right on Abby. With one squeeze, they are on the ground bleeding and Abby jumps forward towards your body. She wraps her arms around your waist, her gun aimed towards the door Owen just opened. More whistling. 

“Go!”

You’re not even focused on the fact that Abby has her hands on you, pulling your attention back to the open room of about 10 Scars. Owen is lighting up the room, but firing aimlessly. You hunch down, taking cover behind the door frame. Abby is beside you, tightly gripping onto her gun. You glance over at her. She’s not panicked, she’s not rattled. She’s angry. 

You smirk at her, sickly enjoying her in this state. 

You snap forward, aiming everywhere you see movement. Luckily Owen got the few at the front of the room. One, two, three, drop in their puddles of blood. When more gunfire erupts behind you, instinct is to look back. So when you look back at Abby firing skillfully at the people you missed, you just about fall to your knees. 

When you look back, you realize no more movement stirs the smokey room. 

“Everyone okay?” Owen calls out as you step forward as you wander around each piece of furniture in the room. You want to make sure you’re vigilant. 

“I’m good, are you?”

You step over a man’s body as you spot a foot move behind a desk. 

When you make it over to the body, it’s a girl with her hand over her neck. You aimed at her earlier, you could’ve sworn you aimed higher. 

The fact that your initial thought was how you killed her made your brain snap back. What the fuck are you doing?

She’s trying to speak, but nothing is coming out. Blood is pooling on her chest and hands. You kneel down to her, your demeanor changing from violent murderer to grieving friend. Even with the scars littering her face, she looks just like any other girl you may know. Her mouth is moving but nothing is coming out. You reach out your hand, touching her leg. 

You can feel your stomach flip when you notice a tear slipping from her eye. Guilt riddles your bones, the blood spilling from her by your own hand. 

You swallow thickly before you mutter the words, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

She lets out one final breath. 

You stand, your legs feeling wobbly. You look back at Abby and Owen. He’s not focused on you, but Abby can’t look away from your actions. She gives you a curious look, watching you stumble a bit. 

“What is it?”

You can’t even form words, too taken aback from watching the life slip from that girl’s eyes. It brought you back to when you were a child, watching your sister die. That could’ve been someone’s sister. 

“What the fuck are we even doing?” You ask, trying not to stutter. 

Owen finally looks over at you after stealing a guy’s gun magazine, “What are you talking about?”

You know you’ll get in trouble for saying what you really want to say. You can’t trust either of them. Everything would get back to Isaac. 

So you don’t say anything.

You finish clearing the room, trying to avoid looking at the faces of the deceased. Owen and Abby leave the room while you trail behind them slowly. You’re on edge, trying to shake the emotions and ideas running through your head. It’s the same emotion you felt when that guy tried to force you to butcher a child, probably not even above the age of 10. Their mother stood by, screaming the child’s name, but you were too busy staring into the child’s eyes. 

They are just like us. What are we doing?

Owen kicks open another door, leading you and Abby through what you assumed was an old board room. There was no one there, but as you looked across the water damaged floor, you notice one of the shattered glasses windows. You creep closer, the glass crunching under your boots. You look down to the street, the grass overtaking the main road. You start to imagine what this place probably looked like before the infection. 

Now it’s a wasteland. 

You realize how high up you are when you hear a shaky breath behind you. Abby stands close to you, trying to see what you’re seeing, but instead she starts to panic over the height you were at. You face her, remembering all the times you were forced to take the high ground with her, only for her to have a panic attack and leave you alone. 

She’s practically dry heaving. You push her back, nudging her to get away from the open window. 

“We don’t need you throwing up,” You grumble, your hand on her shoulder, “Stay back.”

She swallows, shaking her head. “Deal.”

Owen scopes out an attached room before you three continue pressing on. You needed to clear every room that wasn’t destroyed by time and vegetation. 

You pander down an empty hallway by yourself, trying to ensure your footsteps are not loud. You grip your gun when you hear a couple voices in a separate stairway. You press yourself against the wall next to the exit, waiting for the voices to get closer. 

“There can’t be that many left. We already got two of them.”

You snap your head the direction Abby and Owen were the last time you saw them. Now it’s only Abby. She stares at you, her eyes glinting with curiosity. You nod towards the door next to you, cocking your gun. 

She knows what that means. She jogs over, trying not to be too loud. 

When she gets to your side, she gets into a defensive stance. The voices are coming down the stairs, you think. 

“Aim up. There’s two.”

She nods right before you kick open the door, exposing the two people on the stairs. They don’t even have time to raise their weapons before Abby riddles them with bullets. 

The sound attracts Owen, who comes stomping down the hallway. 

“There’s more, go down!”

You hold your ground, shaking your head, “We can’t! Isaac said we need to c-”

“Fuck what he said. We are gonna die if we stay!”

Owen is never one to abandon a mission, so you take his word for it. But you know what you heard, if they did kill 2 people, one of them could’ve been Manny. And if they killed Manny, you don’t know what you’d do. Manny is the only other person you can tolerate in the WLF. Besides… you know. 

You have to just hope he’s okay. 

Abby’s eyes widen as she looks down the hall where Owen was just coming from. Whistles erupt and you know what that means. Abby grabs your free hand, practically ripping your arm out of the socket as she takes off down the stairs. 

You’re practically being dragged down the steps, skipping multiple steps at once as Abby never gives up your hand. Owen is close behind, but every so often, he stops to aim up the stairs to spray bullets. He’s trying to slow them down, but he’s also probably attracting more to your location. A door swings open in Abby’s path, and without even thinking for a millisecond, you lift up your gun and shoot directly into the opening. It was just one guy and your aim was spot on. Your mind is solely on protecting the girl who’s incapable of letting go of your hand. 

“Keep moving!”

Another five flights and you’re finally on the ground floor. Abby finally releases your hand, letting you catch your breath for a second as Owen stands his ground and lights up the staircase behind you.

“We need to find the others! Now!” Abby yells over the gunfire.

You stumble forward, checking down the hallway you watched Manny and Leah go down before you three walked up the stairs. You don’t even say anything, you just start running down the corridor. Your throat is tight just thinking of Manny’s lifeless body. 

Two Scars appear behind a corner and you expertly shoot them, running straight pass them without hestitating. You’re in fight or flight mode, your body shaking with fear that you could stumble upon a horrible scene. 

You don’t know when you start doing it, but you start screaming his name. Over and over again. You’re giving away where you are to the enemy, but you did not care.

Before you can finish slaughtering more people, Manny and Leah yell your name from a room at the end of the hall. When you get to the door, you kick it open with all your might, breaking through the door with your foot. 

“¿Qué pasó? Are you alright!?”

You’re panting and on edge, so when you see Manny’s concerned face, you breath a sigh of relief. His voice brings a bit of comfort as well. 

Abby finally makes it to you, her boots halting right behind you, while her hands find the sides of your body. 

“We gotta go! There’s more Scars than we thought. We either go or die!”

You swallow thickly, your body buzzing at the feeling of Abby’s large hands on your hips. She’s not doing it on purpose, it’s almost like she needs to have you close. She needs to protect you just like you protected her.

Manny glances over at Leah, nodding in agreement that they are on the same page. Abby pulls you away from the threshold so they can leave the room they were scoping out. Owen gets to you four, informing everyone where he thinks the Scars could hide and how they would probably make your escape hard. Abby’s hands are still on you. 

You glance back at her, your lips slightly ajar. She looks down at you with hooded lids. 

“We are getting out of here and you’re not leaving my side, got it?” She whispers for your ears only. You just nod. 

You’re just following everyone at this point, keeping your finger trained on the trigger of your gun. Abby follows you closely, not letting you out her eyeline. You run through each corridor, trying to seek out a good exit. When you finally reach the end of a hallway, you peer out the floor to ceiling windows to see if you spot any Scars outside. There’s two rooms beside you that look like they are empty, but there’s no light shining through the thresholds. This is the only way out down this hallway. You were sick of being a sitting duck. When you realize you have no other choices you liked, you shoot out the window. 

The group jumps back at your reaction. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Owen yells, smacking your shoulder hard. You turn your gun and aim it right at him. Abby’s eyes widen at your action, her arm instantly going up to block the barrel of your gun. She’s pleading with you, her eyes never leaving yours. 

“I’m getting us out of here. Why do you insist on being a prob-”

Before you can get the rest of the word out, you hear footsteps approaching you quickly from the right. All you can remember is the air being taken from your lungs and your body flying sideways, away from Abby’s protective stance. 

-

When you come to, you’re being held up by someone. You blink slowly, but your eyes will not focus on the person whose arms are holding you tight.

“What’s happening?” You manage to mutter. As you say it, you taste blood. Your ears are ringing, but you can still hear the voices around you. They are yelling to run faster! 

“You’re gonna be fine, okay babe?”

You know that voice. 

“You can’t call me that.”

She slows down a bit just to look at you, “Can call you whatever I want.”

Your head hurts. You know you can not fight the exhaustion plaguing your body. You can’t even argue back to her. You shut your eyes again, succumbing to the darkness. 

-

You notice the pounding headache first. Then the very dimly lit hospital room you’re in. Then the presence in the corner of the room. 

“Welcome back,” Her voice is smooth and velvety. You prop yourself a bit, but as soon as you do, it’s like the pressure in your head doubles. You feel like your brain may implode, the pain pulsating against your skull. You try to widen your eyes to focus on her, but your brain cannot muster enough energy to do so. Your vision is just slightly blurred while you train your eyes on her. 

“What happened?” Your voice is weak and your mouth is dry. You try your best to create saliva, but nothing really happens when you smack your chapped lips. 

“You got tackled by a Scar before any of us could see him coming. Asshole was quick. You smacked your head pretty hard on the floor,” She stands up from the chair in the corner, making her way closer to you. She’s not wearing the same shirt as yesterday. She’s in a long sleeve thermal, the light off white is a good color on her. 

You blink slowly, trying to take in the information, “What happened to him?”

“Manny shot him when I was ripping him off you. It attracted a lot more of them. I grabbed you before anyone else could and just took off running.”

You look up at her when she gets to your side. You don’t say anything, just shake your head. You can’t believe Abby, of all people, saved you from possible death. She had your back the whole time, even though you gave her shit. You didn’t even realize the small glances, the quick actions when you were in your own zone. 

All you could think about the whole time is how you were totally off your game and Isaac was going to have your neck for it. 

“And the rest of the group?”

“They were close behind. We made it back to the jeep pretty quickly. I held you in the back until we could get to the hospital. That’s where we are now.”

“Who didn’t make it out?”

Her lips go into a thin line, “Alex and Kerrigan.”

Alex was the guy from earlier this morning with Manny. He seemed nice enough, surely he didn’t deserve to die. Kerrigan was a girl you remember from a couple of meetings with Isaac. She was a smaller girl, quick on her feet and very quiet. You can’t even really remember her face, which makes you feel bad. 

“Shit… I’m sorry we couldn’t get to them.”

“Not your fault. They knew what they were getting into when we had them join patrols. I know Owen’s taking it pretty hard.”

You want to smack her for even bringing up his name. But you don’t. You know she still may have a special place in her heart for him. You just despised him, especially after he confronted you this morning. Prick. 

She’s taking her time explaining things to you. You realize she’s not ever looking away from you when she speaks, something she usually does when you stare at her. She��s watching you carefully, her beautiful eyes soft with empathy.

“Are you okay?” You question, reaching out to her closest hand. She doesn’t pull away when you grab it, bringing it into your side.

She bites her cheek, “Yeah, course I am. Just glad I got you out of there.”

The softness of her whisper brings warmth to your entire body. You didn’t care about your head, or how hot the room was, or how you may have serious repercussions when you got back to the Stadium. 

What mattered is that she’s here. She’s here and she wants to be. You felt relief that she may have come to her senses about what happened between you two. Something had to of changed.

“What changed? Why are you so dead set on helping me now?”

She winces, probably not expecting you to ask such a question. She contemplates for a minute, licking her lips to prepare herself for what she’s about to say. 

“I can’t stop thinking about last night. Made me realize how I really feel about you,” You’re heart races at her words. You’re amazed when she continues, “I think I was scared of having those types of emotions for you. That’s why I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to lay in your bed and overthink everything when it’s pretty simple.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “What’s simple?”

“The fact that I like you. And I have for awhile.”

It’s like the world stops and it’s just you and Abby. You can tell she’s nervous to say it, but she needed it off her chest like it was suffocating her. She lefts out a long huff, crouching down in a squat. Her unraveling braid falls onto her shoulder and you let your eyes trail it down to her chest. You notice some blood speckled in with her freckles, right near her button nose and cheekbones. 

“Yeah, I like you, too.”

She smiles subtly, trying not to get too excited over the confession. But the truth was that she wanted to jump up and down in elation. She had never had someone confide in her about their feelings for her, so the idea that someone as beautiful as you could like her despite all her baggage, it gave her hope. 

“I want to go home,” You grumble not sure what else to say, your thumb running over the back of her hand, “I wanna go home with you.”

“The doctor here wants to monitor you another day. I have to ship out and get back to explain to Isaac what happe-“

“No, fuck that,” You squeeze her hand, “You’re staying here with me and bringing me back to the Stadium. I’m not going back with anyone else.”

She notes the serious nature of your tone. She looks up at you with those eyes. Abby Anderson could very well be the death of you. 

“I can’t refuse orders, babe,” She states, her eyes falling to your joined hands.

“Bullshit, Abby. If you tell Isaac I want you as my transport, he will let you stay. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

You’re practically panicking thinking about Abby leaving without you. With the way you feel now, you don’t want to be out without her. She felt like the safest person to have around. You can’t trust anyone else. 

You start to finally bring wetness back to your mouth, “Tell him that you need to be with me.”

“You know damn well everyone will be suspicious. I need to go back. You need to stay here. Nora will take you back, you’ll be s-“

“Get me out of this fuckin’ bed right now. I’m going with you.”

You stay to move but your body feels like jello. As soon as you try to plant your feet on the ground, Abby is reaching over your legs and placing them back on the gurney. 

“Babe,” She pleads, “Just… fuck. Okay fine, I’ll stay. I’ll stay. We can both answer to Isaac when we get back, I guess.”

Relief rushes over your body. 

“He’s going to have a lot to say to me, that’s for sure. I failed two missions in a row that usually are a piece of cake,” You put your free hand over your forehead. You’re sweating so bad. You glance over at Abby who’s reaching over to one of the tables by your bed for a rag, “I’m not a submissive girl to him like I am to you.”

She smirks up at you. She can’t believe you admitted to being a submissive to her. 

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?”

If your body didn’t feel like shit, you know you’d be grabbing Abby by her collar and hauling her up on the bed to kiss you. She made your face go hot, her piercing eyes raking down your body. You almost felt embarrassed being so vulnerable in front of her. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” You warn, adjusting your butt on the hard bed. 

“Like what?”

You rake your mind for a response. You settle for repeating something she said to you yesterday. 

“Shut that stupid smart mouth up for a minute,” You try to mock her but you sound nothing like her. She laughs at your half assed imitation. She pats your head with the cold rag, getting all the sweat off your forehead.

“Get some sleep, you weirdo.”

-

“How ya doin’, princess?”

You shake your head at the nickname, smacking her arm with your left hand. You’re still weak and tired, but you felt a lot better with some extra rest. Abby loaded you up in a jeep as soon as you could hobble outside, and now you are heading back to the stadium. You couldn’t wait to get in your bed and sleep for three days straight. 

“‘M good, thanks.”

Her smile is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. You didn’t know what this meant for you two, but you were excited to see how things would change over time for you two. Maybe you’d be put on less patrols together, but you could spend your free days and nights with her. After all this time, you could have her. 

She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends.”

She slows down the car to glance over at you, “What did you mean when you asked what the hell we were doing? Yesterday when that Scar was trying to reach out to you as she was dying?”

Your heart sinks. Your mind instantly goes to betrayal. Abby is only acting like this towards you because she wants information. She wants to rat you out.

You go from thinking about your deep desire for Abby to thinking about how to protect yourself, she’s going to ruin your life. You’re instantly spiraling. 

“I don’t know what you’re asking me. Are you insinuating something?”

You watch as panic spread across her face. She realizes how bad she sounds asking such a question. 

“No, no,” She’s starting to stutter and use her hands as she speaks, “That’s not what I meant by it.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I’m just wondering if you feel the same guilt I feel sometimes! You know, like when you kill a someone and watch the life leave their eyes, I don’t know. Jesus.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. She wasn’t trying to double cross you, just emphasize with you. You really can not trust yourself to think the worst of everyone. Maybe because it felt like everything with Abby was too good to be true. 

You wet your lips, “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I don’t like to… I never enjoy killing people. I never have.”

She can’t help but laugh a bit. “Well you’re really fuckin’ good at it.”

“Top Scar killer in all the WLF,” You wince when you say it. She doesn’t say anything just shakes her head, speeding up the jeep down an old abandoned alleyway. You weren’t too far from the entrance to the Stadium. 

She clears her throat, “There’s only one person I’d really enjoy killing.”

Abby has never shared a lot about her past. You knew she and the Salt Lake crew were former Fireflies. You knew that she lost her dad not too long before she got to Seattle. But that’s all the information you managed to get out of her when you two were close before. She didn’t want to talk about herself, she’d rather hear about your tortured past. 

“Who?”

“Joel Miller,” Silence takes over the cabin of the car. You have no idea who that is or why she cared to kill him. Before you can ask, she speaks up again, “The man who killed my father.”

You understand what it feels like to want revenge. But you also know what it’s like to finally get it. Most of the time you still feel bad. Nothing brings back the dead, not even the satifaction of watching their killer’s take their last breaths. You brutualized the man who killed your sister, and it never made her death any easier. But you knew that yearning was different for everyone. Maybe it would make Abby feel better. 

You decide it’s best to just nod, acknowledging her desire. 

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, just the sound of crackling of rocks under the SUV’s tires. When you get to the entrance of the Stadium, Abby waves and calls out to the gatekeeper. He opens the tall wired fence and lets you two pass through. As soon as Abby parks, it’s like a swarm of people surround you two. Abby gestures you to wait so she can get your door. You laugh thinking about that stupid saying some old people say. 

Maybe chivalry isn’t dead. 

She swings open the door, pushing aside some random guy who’s staring you down. You grab Abby’s shoulder as you ease yourself onto the concrete. You were still a bit unsteady when you walked. It was a mixture of the weakness but also Nora told you that the concussion you have is probably causing balance issues. You took her word for it. 

“Top Scar killer not looking so well, now,” The guy mutters from behind Abby, “Who knows, maybe one of us can be Isaac’s favorite ass kisser!”

You don’t even know the guy and the vibe he’s giving off is making you nervous. He’s about 5’8” and stocky. Abby could take him herself, but you don’t feel the need for her to fight for your honor after everything that you two have been through in the last two days. Abby huffs out in annoyance, ensuring you’re able to stand properly. You start to walk towards the ramp that leads up to the Stadium’s main corridors. The guy is still muttering shit as Abby unloads your backpack and hers. 

“What are you friends with her now, Abby?”

“Can you fuck off? Does it look like either of us are in the mood?” She spits, slinging your backpack over her shoulder. You stand and wait at the base of the ramp for her to catch up. The guy just follows her closely, interrogating her about the mission that failed. Abby just ignores him, her eyes locked on yours. Before she makes it to you, the guy asks one final question. 

“What do you have a crush on her or something?”

Abby drops her backpack on the ground, and within seconds, she has the guy pinned to a truck parked near the ramp. His body makes a loud thwack when he hits the metal. Her back muscles flex as she tightens her grip. As hot as it is, you don’t feel like watching her beat someone bloody for something so dumb. You weren’t feeling your fiesty self, you just wanted to be in bed. 

“Did anyone ever fuckin’ teach you manners or are you just that fuckin’ dense?” She has her teeth clenched. As you get close, you see that she’s ripping his t-shirt. Your moving slowly, but as soon as violent words are being exchanged, you firmly grab Abby’s arm. She peels her eyes away from the guy, her face still scrunched in frustration. 

“Just let him talk his shit, Abs. He’s just jealous because he can’t get any pussy.”

You don’t even know why you included the last part, but it only aggravates the guy more. You aren’t very good at deescalation. You usually instigate things, it’s your specialty. 

Luckily, the master of settling fights comes running down the ramp. Manny. 

“Hey, you guys just got home and you’re already stirring up trouble?” 

Abby still has the guy pinned, his eyes trained on your fragile frame. 

Manny grabs Abby’s arms and pries her off the guy, his body blocking you away from the guy as well. He starts speaking Spanish under his breath, probably venting his frustrations about Abby and you not giving him a moment of peace. 

He talks down the guy, guiding him away from you and Abby. You bend over to grab her bag and shakingly hand it back to her. She watches carefully as Manny escorts the guy further down the parking lot. With her free arm, she wraps it protectively around you. You get chills up your arms and back as you two walk into the Stadium. You’re surprised she’s showing any inkling of liking you to other people, especially her peers. You know there were probably about 10 other people in the parking lot, and they for sure saw her sticking up for you. 

She drops her arm as soon as you make it to the main hallways. People glare over at you as you drudge yourself down the halls, finally making it to a staircase that would put you right in front of your room. Abby lets you start up the stairs first while she stands behind you, keeping her eyes wide in case you fall backwards. You’re relieved as you reach the last step and spot your door waiting for you. 

Abby runs ahead of you, grabbing the door and wiggling the knob.

“It’s locked.”

She rolls her eyes, “I know that now. Where’s your key?”

You turn your jaw upward and gesture towards the necklace. “Here.”

Instead of making you unravel it, she lifts her hands up to your chest. Her fingers travel down from your neck to your collarbones. She’s teasing you and it’s working. 

She grabs the key and toys with it for a minute, trying to release the clasp. Once she figures it out, she holds the key up like a grand prize. 

“You’re so stupid, please let me in my room.” 

She giggles as she sticks the key into the latch and turns it, “Patience, princess.”

Once the door clicks, she opens it for you. The cold air of your room rushes out and cools your sweaty and dirty skin. You get a sense of solace when you walk in, your body feeling a bit reenergized at the sight. 

Abby walks close to you, shutting the door behind her. She shimmies off your bag, dropping her own near the door. 

“You mind if I stay for a bit?”

Butterflies creep into the pit of your stomach. You turn to face her, spotting a somewhat hesitant girl picking at her cuticles. 

“I was hoping you would. Maybe you could give me a bed bath, just like my nurse did.”

She nods, a smirk plastered across her freckled face. 

“If you need me to, I can for sure do that,” She starts to walk over to your sink, searching for some sort of bowl or towel, “I could probably do a better job.”

You stumble over to the side of your bed, kicking off your boots with a grunt. You know exactly where this is going, and even with your weakened body, you want her so bad. 

She continues to search around, finding a large bowl and a couple of your wash rags. She fills the bowl with the warmest water as you peel off some of your clothes, leaving you in just your underwear and tank top. 

“A better job, huh?”

She finds a bar of soap near your shampoo bottles. She sniffs it before she bounds over to you. 

“Yeah,” She places the bowl on your side table, dropping a rag inside it to soak it, “I think I know your body a little bit better than Nora. Especially after the other night.”

She can’t talk to you like this, especially now that you’re in your underwear. You scoot over on the bed to allow her to sit as she rings out the blue rag. She lathers a bit of soap on it before she starts with your arms. 

She grabs your wrist delicately, lifting it so she can clean the dust and dirt off. You watch her so intently, watching her wipe you down. When she finishes one arm, she does the other. She takes her time, tilting it back and forth to ensure she got every side. 

“You want me to do your legs next?”

You smile as she soaks the towel again and ring it out. “You can do whatever you want, Abs.”

She raises her eyebrows as she creeps further down the bed. She kicks off her shoes, settling herself between your slightly spread legs. 

“This bringing you back?” You question, slightly adjusting yourself so your legs get closer to her sides. She shakes her head sheepishly, grabbing your right ankle. 

“Hmm, maybe,” She traces your legs with the rag, using her other colder hand to rub in the wet areas, “If you weren’t so weak, I’d treat you just as well as the other night.”

Even in your broken state, you can’t help yourself. “Easier to control me when I’m like this.”

She chuckles, shaking her head, “That’s taking advantage of you, and that’s not my style.”

I guess now that she confessed her feelings for you, you had to deal with a softer Abby. One that wouldn’t take control of you in the public showers. You watch as she softly runs the lavender scented towel up and down your bruised and battered legs. She is focused, not looking at you, but her eyes trailing up and down from your thighs to your ankles. 

You sit up further, leaning forward and raising your fingers down to her chin. You tilt her focus to your gaze.

“What if I want you to? Ya’ know, give you my consent?”

Her eyes darken as she settles back a bit, making your hand fall from her face. She tenses up her shoulders before rolling them back, easing herself into the idea of getting between your legs again. You smile watching her do the mental gymnastics. 

Her hand settles back onto your thigh, “You’re so desperate.”

You know you got her. 

Without saying another word, her hand travels up to your underwear. She softly places her hand over your mound, her thumb tracing your clothed slit. You lay back as wetness pools in the spot she’s touching, your body heating up naturally. 

Before she goes any further, she pulls away and plops the rag into the warm water on your side table. 

She leans forward towards you, repositioning her entire body by propping herself on her elbows right in front of your core. It was hot watching the girl you were obsessed with settling herself, still fully clothed, before your heat. You could cum at the sight alone. 

She rubs small circles right where your eager clit was through your panties. Before you can even moan out for her, she slips past the fabric and dips her pointer finger into your core. As soon as she does that, it feels like the coil may snap. You didn’t even realize how horny she has you. Maybe it was the anticipation or maybe it was the fact that this time you knew her true feelings for you. Hate sex was hot, but sex when you know she’s plagued with thoughts of you when you’re not even around, that was even better.

You don’t expect her next move. Instead of sliding your panties off, she uses minimal strength to just rip them in half.

As soon as you’re fully exposed for her, she turns into an animal. She mewls at your glistening slit. 

“All for me?” She questions before leaning in to pepper kisses all along the wet trail. You can’t help but whimper desperately at the action. 

“Yes, Abs. All for you.”

She flattens her tongue, moving further into you. Her actions are painfully slow, taking her time to drink you up. You instinctively try to close your legs together when she starts to move faster, being overwhelmed by her maneuvers. As soon as you try to move, she’s using her strong arms to hold you down. Your legs are practically pinned to the bed, her right hand still sticky from your center. 

She shakes her head back and forth, creating a whole new feeling in your stomach. You don’t even think about how loud you’re being for her, not caring if the older guy next to you hears how loud you’re getting for Abby fucking Anderson.  

For not being with women often, Abby knew exactly how to treat your pussy. She decides to change it up and add her fingers back into the equation. Once her index and middle finger enter you, you know that familiar feeling heating up your stomach. 

“Abby, fuck, don’t stop.”

And she doesn’t. Instead she quickens her mistrations, her lips enveloping your clit and her fingers fucking you faster. You reach down, grabbing her braid and the crown of her head and push her further into you as your orgasm crashes down. She drinks you down, taking everything you gave her. 

She pulls away from you, her face wet with your slick. 

“Such a good girl for me,” She continues to play with you, her fingers remaining in your heat, “Do you need me to stop? Or do you want me to give it to you like I did before?”

You smirk as you glance towards the toy that you tucked back into your side table. 

“It’s in there,” You croak out, “Need you to.”

She reaches over you, her body pressed against your stomach as she opens the top drawer and grabs the strap. Your stomach is reeling in anticipation, ready to watch Abby on top you. 

When she gets it out, she rolls off the bed completely. You watch as she strips off her shirt, leaving her bra on. You still are in disbelief of her body, her muscles highlighted perfectly by the glisten of sweat. She keeps her underwear on but you crave to see how wet she is. 

“Take the underwear off,” You say, reaching out to touch her toned stomach, “Wanna see all of you.”

She puts the strap on, ignoring your request.

“I’m not taking any demands from you right now, sweetheart. You take what I give you.”

You loved seeing her be dominant. Seeing the appendage hang from her center makes you throb. She gets back on top of you, caging your body in with her strong arms. She nudges your nose with hers, teasing you by keeping her lips inches away from yours.

“Need you, Abs.”

She captures your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth. Her lips aren’t the only thing moving into you, her hips grind into your open core. The plastic cock does not enter you, but the mixture of her kissing you and grinding is enough to send you into maddening moans.

Her swollen lips pull away, her eyes dark as she lines herself up with your opening. She drags the cock up and down, gathering your slick before easing it inside. You see stars as it stretches you, your voice hearse and gutteral. Abby eats it up. She zeros in on watch it ease out of you and split you wide open. You’re so wet, the squelching sends her to another dimension. She settles into a pace that was agnoizingly slow, taking her time with your body. She reaches behind your legs and bends them so they wrap around her waist. The new angle allows her to hit you in all the right places. 

Your orgasm is building with each stroke. She’s smiling while your mouth is set in an “o” shape, loving the reactions she was getting out of you.

“Jesus, taking me so fuckin’ well, baby,” She mewls, her hands caressing up your sides to grab onto a very important part of your body that she hardly played with this time around. You’re not wearing a bra under your tank top, so when her hands make it under the white fabric, her fingers pinch at your nipples. “You love when I fuck you like this don’t you?”

“Yes, Abby, please. I need to cum.”

She leans forward, bringing her greedy lips to yours. Since your lips are already open, her tongue enters your mouth. You suck at it, trying to get her to pay attention to your pleas. She retracts back, fucking into you harder. 

“Cum for me, then, you little slut.”

The words send you overboard. You’re falling, crashing. The waves of pleasure take over every achy muscle, your body jerking forward into Abby’s sweaty upper body. She wraps her arms around you, fucking into you still as you fall apart. You don’t know the words you’re saying, you’re just loudly whispering into her ear. 

Once your vision clears up, you look to the side to check your position out in the mirror ontop of your dresser. You looked like a fucked out mess, but Abby is the most beautiful thing you ever did see. 

You’re trying to catch your breath, your body feeling even weaker than before. Fucking someone when you had a concussion was probably not the best idea, but god damn did every part of you feel like it was buzzing. Abby stands up, her legs wobbly from being on her knees so long.

“Do you want me to make you cum?”

She smiles at your question, but she shakes her head. She yanks down the strap, opening the side drawer and tossing it in. 

“No, I just wanted to treat you. You can repay the favor when you’re feeling better.”

You start to laugh, throwing yourself back into your pillows. As soon as Abby starts to crawl back into bed, there’s a loud knock at your door. You’re both half naked, so the scramble for clothes is instanteous. You grab the first pair of pants you see and as you’re yanking them up your legs, you realize they are Abby’s. 

“Coming in!”

It’s Isaac’s voice. Your stomach drops as the knob turns and you and Abby stand completely still in your spots. Her pants don’t fit you well at all, so hold them over your private area to block any eyes from it. 

He doesn’t even make eye contact with you, he instantly meets Abby’s panicked gaze.

“What the hell?” He turns to you and immediately turns his back, “Well I see that you’re feeling better.”

Your blood ran cold. 

“Yeah, can you uh, give us a minute?”

He doesn’t say anything, just opens the door and slams it behind him. You’re appalled that he even opened the door without confirmation of that being okay. Your eyes snap over to Abby, who’s look of fear turns into rage. You yank off her pants and toss them to her.

“We’re fucked,” She mumbles, putting her clothes on. You search a nearby dresser drawer for some sweatpants and pull down your ragged tank top. You look back at Abby to check to make sure she’s clothed before you head back to the door and let Isaac in. 

You nod at her before grabbing the handle and pulling the door open. When you meet his gaze, he doesn’t look impressed. You are shocked to see another figure beside him. Manny.

“Hey there,” Manny greets, his eyes showing a bit of hesitance. “We good to come in now?”

You don’t say anything, just open the door wider for them to step through the threshold. Abby stands by your desk, her arms crossed. She tries to keep an emotionless expression, but you can tell she’s pissed. And maybe a bit nervous. 

“Just checking in to see how you are,” Isaac says, his pacing leading him to one of the chairs in the corner of your room. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Just a concussion. Some bruises. Should be good to get back on after some of the nurses here clear me.”

You try to sound confident but you’re still somewhat dazed from the sex you just had. You lean against the beam in the center of your room, trying your best not to look over to see what Abby is doing. You could still feel your cum dripping down your leg. 

“Yeah I don’t think you’ll be getting back on any time soon,” Isaac says, his demeanor changing towards you, “I still don’t trust you. And now you’re sleeping with Abby? You think I don’t see what you’re trying to do?”

Your heart sinks, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Manny clears his throat, “Owen told us you were questioning the mission. That you weren’t pulling your punches. Letting some Scars live.”

“Well, he’s a fuckin’ liar!” Your voice is cracking, unsure of how to defend yourself. You were pissed at Owen and you knew that emotion would turn into vengeance. They can’t ostracize you for something like that. They can’t kill you for being empathetic. Can they?

“She never said that,” Abby finally speaks up, “I was there. Owen has it wrong.”

“Abby…” Isaac says in a warning tone, “You better not be lying for her.”

Abby scoffs, “When have I ever lied to you? Never. I am not lying for her. Owen was the one who refused your orders and got us all to leave. He said we go or we die. You shouldn’t be reprimanding her. She told him we had a job to do.”

Isaac halts in his rebuttal, thinking of what his next move should be. 

Manny crosses his arms. You’re so pissed, you want to slap him. How dare he go against you and be here to watch Isaac try to accuse you of something like this? What did you ever do to him?

“Is this true?” Isaac questions, standing up to get closer to your slightly hunched over frame. 

You don’t even hesitate, knowing this was all going to fall back on Owen. You wanted to see how that ended for him. 

“Yes. I knew I could not let you down another time. I would never risk something like that. I’m loyal to you and this cause. I am sorry if I let you down again. I wanted to finish the job, I really did.”

You were an outstanding liar. And now you know, Abby was, too. She also had your back. Which made you like her even more. 

Isaac tries to sense any deception but there’s nothing written on either of your faces to indicate that. 

 “Report back to me in two days,” He says to you with a very stern voice, “and Anderson, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. You’re first patrol out.”

When he’s satisfied with his interrogation, he turns to Manny.

“Well, I guess you were right about one thing.”

Manny furrows his eyebrows at the slightly shorter man, unsure what he’s talking about. “Sir?”

“They are fucking each other, but they aren’t liars,” He turns back to you and Abby, giving you two a kurt nod. 

You cross your arms, watching Isaac leave the room and bump into Manny as he does. You don’t even want to deal with him right now, so you wave him out, not saying anything to him. You would deal with him later. Right now, you need a back rub and sleep. And that’s exactly what you intended to get when that door slammed on Manny’s ass on his way out. 

[klausysworld]

“In certain situations, like when he knows you’re trying to make him jealous or when one of you is particularly needy, he will just fuck you in the nearest secluded area with a hand over your mouth to muffle your pleasured screams.

Sis I just love the recent NSFW POST of yours! This concept had me 😧😧😧🥵🥵 Can you write something like this whenever suitable?

All his

Klaus had made me go to this ball thing, something about a truce with the factions and Elijah saying we all had to behave.

Rebekah had me dressed in a tight blood red dress that hand a high slit in the leg going right up my thigh. It pushed my tits together perfectly leaving no need for a bra, this however caused my nipples to show a little through the fabric. Sometimes that clashed with Elijah’s rules of our ‘best behaviour’

So there i was making my way through the crowds of people to Rebekah and Hayley

“Klaus seen your outfit yet y/n?” Hayley asked trailing her eyes down my body as she handed me a glass of champagne, Rebekah smirked as i did a little spin to show how it squeezed my hips

“you don’t think he’ll like it?” i asked with a fake pout on my face

“oh he’ll like it…just not when there’s a hundred other people also eyeing you up” she said gesturing to the hungry eyes watching my movements

“he can’t yell at me till later, may as-well have fun” i grinned and took their hands as we made our way to dance

The ball ended up being a little more…club like by the time Klaus had actually decided to join the room. His brows furrowed as he approached a clearly unamused Elijah

“why are there strippers dry humping each other in our house?” he asked confused

“it would seem our sister, Hayley and Y/n decided to…’spice things up’ as they put it.” Elijah air-quoted with a tight lip smile

“Y/n’s in there?” he laughed not really thinking you would be so bold

“mhm right in the middle. Just over…there….” he pointed to Klaus’s lover, he turned back to see if Niklaus could spot you but found he was already marching his way though everyone

“Y/N!” i could faintly hear my name being yelled over the music and i looked around, my eyes met Klaus’s dark angry ones and i gulped, Rebekah pushed me and called a “good luck” as i made my way to him. Just as i got to him someone grabbed my hand and spun me making me gasp, hands were on my hips and i was pulled right against someone. This someone was not Klaus. I tried to pull myself away but he wouldn’t let go, he put a harsh kiss to my neck and before i could react i was ripped out of his arms and was being hauled out the room.

I was shoved into the bathroom and a hand gripped my jaw

“how. dare. he.” Klaus spat as he glared at the mark left on my neck. His eyes bled into gold, veins covered all under his eyes as a possessive growl sounded in his throat

“i- i didn’t think that would happen i swear” i spoke in a pleading tone hoping he wouldn’t think i had the intention of being touched by anyone else, marked by someone else

“i know, it’s just unfortunate you have to suffer because of someone else’s actions” i went to ask what he meant but his fangs in my throat wouldn’t allow any words to form. He wasn’t gentle like he normally was. His hand on my jaw was tight and he gulped my blood down hungrily, i could feel my skin tear open slightly when he pulled his mouth away. His tongue lapped at the blood that dripped now me

“You. are mine. Why do people not know that for fucks sake” his tone was dangerous and low, i felt my underwear stick to me as i dampened them. Quickly he picked me up and sat me on the sink, he yanked my panties off and spread my legs as wide as the dress would let them. Immediately two of his fingers were sliding up and down my folds making me jump and grab onto his arm

“you’re fucking soaked” he told me and shoved his fingers in my mouth. I sucked them after a second and swirled my tongue over them. He pulled them out and grabbed my face again. I looked at his predatory eyes before he pulled me to him and forced his tongue into my mouth, he kissed me in a rushed aggressive manner leaving me no time to try catch up as he dominated my mouth.

“put your legs around me” he ordered still swallowing my tongue. i complied and wrapped my legs around his waist, our bodies flush against each other. I wound my fingers into his hair trying to keep up and his teeth clashed against mine, he bit into my bottom lip and sucked at the blood that began pooling, i gave a surprised moan in response.

I felt his hands leave my face and the sound of a belt hitting the floor, i tried to pull away to see when he was doing but a hand was brought to the back of my head pushing me into him. A second later i felt his swollen cock at my entrance, he pulled me off the sink and thrust up into me, i gasped and then moaned and he went straight into a bruising pace. I was slammed against the bathroom wall as he moved at an inhuman speed. He pulled away from the kiss and started to suck as many marks into my neck as he could. His hands gripped my hips as he pushed the skirt of my dress up.

My mouth hung wide open as my walls clenched continuously around him, strangled sounds escaped me while i pulled at his hair, he grunted and then tore the skirt of the dress off of my body completely and threw in on the floor

“Tell me Y/n, what did you expect to happen when you had your tits on full display?” his thrusts became deeper and even more forceful hitting somewhere overwhelming inside me, a scream sounded through the room as tears ran down my cheeks

“im sorry! im sorry klaus im sorry” i sobbed with my face in his neck hiccuping back my cries of fulfilment, my limbs went limp against him, i tightened around him more than i ever had before

“fuck there’s a good girl huh? All fucking mine.” i nodded helplessly, the waves of bliss crashing through me repeatedly while he continued to fuck me. He groaned and grunted into my ear, the sound of our skin meeting and our content noises drowned out the sounds of the party still happening in the next room.

“i need- klaus…can i-“ i moaned before i could ask but he knew what i wanted as a thumb was on my awaiting clit rubbing harsh and fast circles. I lifted my head and pressed my mouth back to his as i let the feeling inside of me snap. We both moaned lowly into each other, i milked his cock for the next few moments while he carried on moving inside of my walls slowing down gradually to ride out both our highs.

“Alright y/n, alright. Come here, i’ve got you” he lifted me off of his cock and carefully lowered me onto my heeled feet making me wobble slightly.

“take them off for me love” i glanced at him and saw him fully kick his trousers off away from his ankles and i realised we weren’t finished. I slipped out of the heels and looked up at him, he groaned as he studied me, i had grip marks on my thighs, hips and neck, the only thing i was wearing was the top part of what was once a dress and even then it barely did anything, my nipples were hard showing through and they were only just covered anyway especially from being fucked against the wall, my breasts had almost bounced out. My mascara was down my face, my hair messy and my upper body littered in hickeys.

“bend over the sink” his voice was monotone and although it somewhat scared me i could still feel my clit pulse and slowly made my way back to the sink, i got a grip on the sides of it and bent myself over

“legs apart and arch your back for me”

“okay..” i whispered nodding and followed his directions

i felt his warm hands on my shoulders as he massaged them for a moment, he pushed his finger into the top of the dress at the back and pulled ripping it down the middle, i inhaled nervously as it fell to the floor and he traced my spine

“Relax love, you know i wouldn’t harm you” i nodded and flexed my fingers before getting a better grip as i let my eyes fall closed. He took his length into his hand and pumped himself a few times before carefully pushing into me from behind.

I moaned out and pushed my ass back against him taking him all the way. One arm wrapped around my waist and held my hip while the other applied a pressure on my back to keep it arched. He began with slow but jarring movements, seeing just how deep he could hit in this new position. I clenched around him a few times making sure i was comfortable as guttural sounds vibrated through me.

Quickly he lost all sense of sense of control and began thrusting with his combination of vampire and werewolf strength. I let out heavy moans as he repeatedly smashed into just the right spot. His grip on me got tighter as he bent over with me so his chest touched my back and grunted into my shoulder

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and his hand was held over my mouth. He squeezed my face in his hand and fucked me even harder, my moans coming out as muffled cries as i rocked my body back and forward to meet his movements

“someone in there?” Klaus dragged his teeth to my earlobe as someone spoke from the door

“should we let them hear how much you love me fucking you from behind?” he whispered gruffly as his other hand found my clit and i screamed into his palm.

“scream my name” he demanded as he removed his hand and buried his teeth back into my neck, he released deep inside me as i fluttered and throbbed my cum going all down my legs that nearly gave out beneath me when i cried out his name over and over.

Gasps were heard from the next room but all i could focus on was the full feeling of him still inside me as i whimpered. He thrust a couple more times before pulling out, his fingers stayed on my clit as they continued to rub fairly quickly. My legs buckled but he kept my body up as he played between my thighs still draining my neck. I began to feel dizzy, my next orgasm taking over far too quickly as electric shocks went straight to my core. My clit was on fire while i kept moaning his name. His teeth left my throat and he latched his mouth to mine in a desperate kiss. He swallowed around my tongue and explored my mouth, again. My sounds didn’t falter despite him trying to drown them, I felt the tension inside me break again and i sobbed at the overstimulation. I ached and closed my legs as soon as his fingers left me alone.

He lowered me onto the floor and i led into a foetus position. I could hear him putting his clothes back on before returning and petting my hair

“i don’t want anyone to see me naked” i whispered and he nodded kissing my head

“nobody but me will ever see you like this, i promise you i would never let that happen” He came down onto his knees and sat me up. My arms were put into his jacket sleeves and he did up the front buttons. Gently i was lifted into the bridal style carry, the jacket nearly went down to mid thigh and he tucked my head into his neck

“you did so good for me sweetheart you know that?” i whined and tugged the blazer further down my legs, he put his hand just below my ass so nobody would be able to see up and exited the bathroom, he made his way to our room with a fast pace. I could hear Hayley drunkenly cheer and Rebekah laughing sluggishly

He locked the bedroom door behind us and slid us both under the covers

“you’re all mine y/n, i love you too much to let anyone else have you”

“all yours promise”

[moon-rivr]

forbidden pt 2

pairing: brother’s best friend miguel x fem reader

warnings: mentions of a piss kink(as a joke i’m sry 🧍🏻), exhibition, fingering, 69, missionary, overall smut 🫡

author’s note: not much to say, hope you enjoy :)

Before you got a chance to try to explain yourself, Miguel interrupted you, putting his hands on your shoulders as he looked directly at you. "Look, for your sake and for your brother's sake, I didn't hear anything. Nothing happened, right?" He asked, watching for any reaction from you. "Right," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed that you had completely misread the kiss in the closet at the party. You walked over to the living room with Miguel, grabbing two water bottles and handing one to him. "So you don't need anything?" He asked, glancing over at you as you sipped on your water. "Just a hole to swallow me up," you mumbled, more so to yourself than him. He pursed his lips, choosing to stay quiet as you turned on the tv in front of you.

Soon enough, you'd fallen asleep to the show playing on the tv and Miguel couldn't help but smile a bit as he looked over at you. Your lips were slightly parted as you snored, your hair disheveled from the moving on the couch, but most importantly, he saw how relaxed you were, a sharp comparison from the outspoken girl he got to meet. He picked you up in his arms, taking you to your room. He was about to leave the room when he felt your hands on his arm, preventing him from leaving. Miguel decided to stay the night, laying down on the bed next to you as he stroked your hair. As he held you in his arms, he couldn't help but wonder if this was what Eve felt with the apple, having the temptation dangling right in front of you without being able to divulge in it.

Miguel started to shift on the bed, trying to get comfortable but felt something digging in his back every time he moved. His shifting had woken you up and you turned around to see him holding your pink sparkly dildo in his hands, an amused smirk pulling at his lips. "You could've asked me if you wanted a proper size reference, preciosa," he said, looking over at you. "Cállate. It was on sale at Spencer’s," you replied groggily, grabbing the dildo from his hands as he burst out laughing. "Do the sparkles make it feel better?" He asked in between laughs, letting out a small groan as you punched his arm. "You can sleep on the floor si sigues burlandote," you replied, turning to your side as you put the dildo in your nightstand. "But yes, the sparkles make it feel better." (if you keep making fun)

You woke up the next morning with a hand splayed across your stomach, your back plush against a hard chest. You shifted a little on the bed to see Miguel cuddling up next to you, his soft snores filling up the room. You couldn't help but smile a bit, seeing Miguel so vulnerable and so comfortable with you. You tried to get up from the bed but Miguel held on to you like a stuffed animal, clutching you close to his chest. "Miguel, I have to pee," you huffed out, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. "Just pee in my mouth," he mumbled, his face buried in your neck. "Would've never taken you for a piss kink guy," you mumbled, giving up on your efforts. "So what you're saying is that it's completely fine to fuck yourself silly with a sparkly dildo to my beach Instagram pic but a piss kink is where you draw the line?" He asked, rubbing his eyes as he let go.

"I don't see how those two correlate. And how'd you even know it was that pic?" You called out from the bathroom once you went inside, closing the door with your foot. "You liked it at 12. Wasn't that hard to figure out," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his tone. You came out out of the restroom a couple minutes later, going back to the bed. "Even if I did do such a thing, someone said it never happened," you responded with a small shrug, glancing over at him. His hair was sticking out in all directions as he got up from the bed, his shirt riding up as he stretched. "Touché."

You and Miguel went to the kitchen a little while after, starting to bake some pancakes when your brother came in through the front door, trying to be as quiet as possible. His eyes grew wide as he heard you and Miguel’s teasing laughs, walking over to the two of you. "Are you sure you slept with Katie last night? You look like you got attacked by leeches, man," Miguel remarked, watching the reddening hickeys on your brother's neck. Your brother rolled his eyes, walking over to the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee. "What're you doing here so early, O’Hara?" Your brother asked, leaning against the counter as he watched you mix the pancake batter. "Your sister was asleep when I got here so I figured staying the night wouldn't hurt," Miguel responded, handing you an egg. He took notice of the way your fingertips grazed against his, but remained neutral as to not give your brother any motive for suspicion.

Your brother left the kitchen a little after, claiming that he was tired and needed some sleep. You and Miguel sat at the dining table, eating the pancakes in a comfortable silence. You stopped eating when you noticed Miguel was staring at you, your brows furrowed as you tried to decipher what he could be thinking about. "Mira, it's not that I don't want to sleep with you. God knows I’d love to but you saw the look on your brother's face when he saw me cooking pancakes in the kitchen," he spoke up, wiping some syrup away from his chin with a napkin. You thought about what he said, taking a bite of your pancakes as you looked down at the floor. "Look, what happened last night was just a stupid mistake, okay? I completely misread what happened with the kiss and I'm sorry if it made you feel weird," you replied, wiping some syrup away from your own mouth. He wanted to tell you that he didn't find it weird at all, that the only thoughts from now on when his hand wraps around his cock will be just how pretty you sounded, but he chose to stay quiet.

You had managed to avoid Miguel for the next couple of weeks, since you'd passed your physics class and he made a point of not coming to the apartment when he knew you were at home. However, one of the events that neither of you could miss was the annual Christmas dinner that your brother put together, since that would arise his suspicion that something was going on. He'd even asked you the other day if something was going on with Miguel, to which you denied way too quickly but your brother responded with a small shrug, still under the idea that you and Miguel hated each other.

You couldn't handle facing Miguel at the party with some backup so you decided to ask one of your best friends for a favor. You knew that he had just gotten out of a messy breakup so he would be the perfect candidate for this plan you conjured up while in the bathroom. You picked up some of his favorite snacks, hoping that the bribery would work. "Can you be my fake boyfriend please?" You asked once he took the snacks from you, fluttering your lashes innocently as you sat down on the edge of his bed. He rolled his eyes, taking a bite out of the snack as he looked over at you. "Fine, so long as this isn't like some Wattpad scheme to get me to fall in love with you," he remarked, a small smirk on his lips as he extended his hand out. You shook his hand, letting out a small laugh at his condition. "I solemnly swear I won't fall in love with you."

Before the party had started, Miguel approached your brother and decided to ask him the question that had been lingering in his mind. "What would you think if I wanted to start dating your sister?" Miguel asked, grabbing a beer from the fridge as he looked at your brother for any reaction. "Well, I wouldn't be happy with it given your dating history but I wouldn't tell her against it. Shes smart enough to know what's good for her, and besides, the more you tell someone not to something the more they want to do it," he replied, surprising Miguel with his answer.

"That's weirdly insightful coming from you."

"First of all, that's very rude. And second of all, I am a licensed psychologist after all."

"Taking AP Psychology in high school doesn't make you a licensed psychologist, dude."

Despite all the remarks with your brother, he felt a weight be relieved from his chest when he got the approval that everything would be okay with the two of them. He was now going to pursue his feelings towards you, start showing you just how much he liked you throughout the years. However, that idea quickly flew out the window when he saw you walk into the apartment hand in hand with someone else. He felt the blood roaring in his ears as you started to introduce him as your boyfriend, his grip almost crushing the guy's hand when it was his turn to shake hands. His knuckles turned ghostly white from how hard he was gripping his hand, only letting go when he saw the look of concern in your eyes.

The dinner went by smoothly, the conversation flowed with easy as you managed to ignore the stares that Miguel was giving you throughout the night. You saw your date gently rubbing his knuckles from how hard Miguel had shook his hand, giving him a sympathetic smile. When the dinner had ended, your brother stood at the edge of the table, clinking his fork against his champagne glass. "So as I'm sure you all know, me and Katie have been dating for the last couple months and they've been amazing. so with that, I'd like to announce our wedding!" Your brother spoke out, your eyes drifting over to Katie to see some tears forming on the brim of her eyes from how excited she seemed to be. Even if the concept of marrying young confused you, you were glad that your brother found someone that made him truly happy.

The dinner had died down soon after and everyone had moved to the living room to share a glass of aguardiente that Miguel had brought over, reminiscing over past christmas reunions. Your eves eventually landed on Miguel, finding that he was already staring at you with an expression of longing. Like he wanted to say something but he couldn't. You brushed off those thoughts, deciding to take the rejection with some dignity, and went back to looking at your brother as he acted out the time you broke your nose at the ski lodge.

You had been trying to learn how to ski since you spent most of the time at the resort watching your brother and Miguel do it from the window. You wanted to ask your brother how to do it, but you remembered the hushed whispers he shared with Miguel in his room, about how he asked him to feel bad that you didn't have anyone else to talk to, and decided against it. However, you had completely miscalculated just how steep the slope was and while you were on the skis, you completely lost control. A giant rock in the middle of the mountain was all you saw before you went unconscious, one of the ridges hitting your nose directly.

When you arrived back at consciousness, you saw Miguel looming over you with a worried expression on his face. "Oh thank god you're not dead," he sighed out in relief, helping you get up from the snow. "Why would I be dead?" You asked, looking over at him in confusion as you leaned against him for support. "Well you were unconscious in the middle of the snow," he muttered, taking you to the nurse's room in the resort room. "Don't do that again, next time you wanna learn something, ask me," he spoke up when the nurse left the room to check up on another patient. You weren't sure why, but seeing him so worried about you made something fluttery take hold on your stomach, feeling something apart from disdain for him.

The memories from what happened were bittersweet, the way Miguel looked at you when your brother was describing the events making that fluttery feeling take place once more. Eventually, your brother and Katie headed back to her dorm to spend Christmas Eve at her place leaving just Miguel and your fake boyfriend in the room. Your ‘boyfriend’ leaned over, pressing a small kiss on your cheek, just enough to still sell the relationship, before saying goodbye to Miguel and leaving. You felt Miguel’s eyes boring into you as he left, the feeling making you a bit unsettled. He started to speak but you decided to interrupt him, the need to explain yourself starting to grow overwhelming.

"He's my fake boyfriend, we're not dating," you spoke up, rubbing the back of your neck as your eyes darted from side to side. "I guessed, he just ended things with Eddie Brock," Miguel replied with a small shrug, keeping his gaze on you. You looked back at him, your eyes widening a bit as you brushed a piece of hair away. "Thanks for not saying anything," you mumbled, feeling your cheeks flush red at the fact that Miguel had caught your lie so early on. You watched miguel roll his eyes and get up from the couch, taking a small box out of his pocket. He handed the box to you and started to head out the door before he turned around to look at you. "Your brother said he wouldn't have a problem if we started something, but have fun with your fake relationship. I'm sure that's very fulfilling. Merry Christmas," he spoke up, clearing his throat before he left.

A couple of weeks later before the actual wedding, you and your ‘boyfriend’ decided to end things before it got too serious. You knew that he deserved a chance to get out there and start dating once more, so you didn't want to hold him back. You walked into your brother's room with tears in your eyes and your mascara dripping down your cheek as you threw yourself on his bed. "What happened?" He asked you in a soft tone, rubbing your back. A part of you felt bad at how comforting he was being, but you knew that you had to sell the part. "My boyfriend and I ended things. He said he wanted to prioritize other things in his life," you spoke up after a couple minutes, completing it with a choked sob as you wiped away at your eyes. Your brother started to try to cheer you up, giving you free access to the remote and even buying some of your favorite ice cream.

Soon enough though, the wedding arrived and you found yourself sitting at the reception, simply watching other people talk and dance while you sipped on your champagne. Your eyes widened a bit as Miguel sat down next to you when the waiters started to take the food out and your brother started with his speech. You tried to focus on what your brother was saying but you felt Miguel’s gaze burning into you, your eyes flickering to see him. You instantly regretted it since you realized that Miguel was dressed in a black tux, the same as all the other groomsmen, but he filled it out so well. The suit looked like it was tailored just to fit his body and his normally disheveled hair was slicked back and away from his face. You turned away quickly, hoping he didn't catch you ogling over him and returned your attention back to your brother.

You felt Miguel’s fingers gently squeezing on your thigh, rubbing small circles as he started getting closer to your clothed pussy. His touch felt like it was waking a fire deep inside of you, the feeling of having him so close starting to mess with your brain chemistry. You looked up to see if he was as affected by this, but he remained focused with the conversation he was having with your brother. You spread your legs instinctively when you felt his fingers brush against your clothed pussy, his fingers rubbing small circles through the fabric. "Already so wet and I didn't even do anything, hm?" He whispered in your ear when your brother started to speak to another one of the guests, your pussy clamping around nothing.

Miguel continued with his teasing for a bit, prodding and rubbing through the fabric but not quite touching you just yet. You felt yourself growing needier with every single of one of his caresses, the pressure he was giving you wasn't enough to satiate the need you felt. "Please, just do something," you begged, the tone in your voice surprising you from how needy it sounded. "Calladita," he whispered, moving your panties off to the side as he plunged one finger deep inside of you. You nodded, biting down on your lip to suppress any noises as he slowly started pumping it in and out of you. His thumb went to your clit, rubbing small circles that matched with the rhythm he was going at. You clenched around his fingers, watching the way his brows furrowed at the tightness. He plunged another finger inside, the thickness of the two already filling you up. He curled his fingers to hit your g-spot, your hips grinding to match his rhythm. You pressed your hand against your mouth, your releases coating his fingers completely.

Miguel pulled his hand down from the table, licking his fingers as he looked over at your brother with a cocky smile on his face. "Dinner was amazing, thank you," he told your brother before standing up to go mingle with some of the other guests. You and Miguel didn't talk much after that, sometimes you caught yourself staring at him for too long and sometimes he would stare at you but that's where it ended. You kept wishing that he'd come over to talk to you , but he never did, choosing instead to maintain his distance. You got tired from the party about an hour later, excusing yourself from your brother and the guests before heading to the hotel room your brother had rented out.

You were in the middle of scrolling through tv channels and sipping on the wine room service had brought when you heard a knock on the door. Your eyes widen a bit as you saw Miguel standing in front of you, his suit jacket gone along with his tie. He stepped closer and grabbed your chin, kissing you like he'd been meaning to do that all night. You let out a soft whimper as your hands wrap in his hair, pulling him closer to you. He pulled on your lower lip, soothing the sting with his tongue and took the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. He kissed you with so much passion, so much need and desire, and you felt your knees weakening at the intensity.

Miguel grabbed a 'do not disturb' sign and put it on the door knob before shutting it. Your clothes were discarded along with his on the floor, your bodies colliding as you made your way to the bed. You ended on top of him with your pussy in his face and your face against his cock, the tip reddening and leaking out precum. You let out a soft moan when you felt Miguel plunge a finger deep inside of you, curling as he moved it in and out of you. Your lips wrap around his cock, wanting to give him an ounce of the pleasure he was providing you. Miguel let out soft groans as you sucked on his cock, the vibrations adding on to the sensations you were feeling. His mouth wrapped around your clit, rolling his tongue around the bundle of nerves and making figure eights. Your cheeks hollowed as you took Miguel deeper in your mouth, his cock practically down your throat as you bobbed your head.

You took his balls in your hands, massaging them and tugging them to add to the pleasure he was already feeling. You felt the familiar coil building up inside of you, your juices practically soaking Miguel’s chin and nose as he buried his face into your clit. Miguel curled his fingers as he plunged one last time, your walls tightening around him tightly as you rode out your orgasm. Miguel felt his balls growing heavier as your tongue wrapped around the tip of his cock, the sensation shooting straight through him. The way your mouth just engulfed his cock felt like pure heaven, and he wanted as much as you would give him. "I’m gonna cum, princesa," he moaned out, alerting you to pull away. You were unrelenting and felt his cum shoot straight in your mouth, swallowing it as you licked at the corner of your mouth.

"Such a shame we don't have the pink sparkly dildo here," he remarked, an amused smirk pulling at his lips as he looked over you. His cock was already starting to get hard again, prepared for the next round. "We'll save that for next time, hm?" You replied, letting out a small laugh at the way he was still thinking about that. Miguel got on his knees in the bed, slowly running his cock against your folds to pick up the slick you were releasing. He slowly pushed his cock inside, filling you up already with just the first couple inches. You felt some tears prickling at your eyes at just the sheer size of him and he wiped them away, looking down at you with a tender expression. "Shh, you're doing so well for me."

He bottomed out after you got adjusted to his cock, slowly removing it before plunging it inside of you once more. You felt the air leave your lungs as he started off slow, yet deep, feeling his cock all the way to your cervix. He wanted to be a gentleman, take this slow and let you enjoy this as much as possible, but when you gripped his shoulders and your legs wrapped around his waist, he lost all semblance of self control. His hips rutted against yours, his pace quick and unrelenting as your moans filled the room. Your nails were digging into his shoulders but he enjoyed the feeling, encouraged it even, as his hips moved faster against yours. The sound of his balls slapping against your thighs and the moans escaping from your lips filled up the room, and you were certain you would receive a noise complaint tomorrow.

Miguel started to rub on your clit, giving you gentle but firm pressure, just enough to stimulate you but not enough to make you cum. Your toes curled as you felt his cock hit your g-spot, the grip on his shoulders tightening as you moaned. "I'm gonna cum," You babbled as miguel continued to thrust inside of you, his thrusts almost punishing. You clamped tightly around him as you came, your releases coating his cock completely. Miguel picked you up, pinning you against the wall as he slowly pushed inside of you once more. "I'm gonna fuck you on every surface of this hotel room, okay?"

You simply nodded, too dumbfounded to say anything, as his hips slowly snapped against yours. Your legs wrapped around his waist tightly and your hands around his neck as he started to speed up, his mouth attached to one of your breasts. "Tell me, did the dildo feel as good as this?" He asked, his lips now on your earlobe as he tugged slightly. "N-No! Only you make me feel like this!" You moaned out and Miguel felt his ego inflate at how dumb he had you on his cock. Your walls clamped around him tightly as his thrusts got deeper and faster, your nails raking down his back. He let out a moan as he started to feel his orgasm creeping up, but he didn't want to cum without you. His hand slowly snaked down to your clit, rubbing small precise circles on it as you babbled. You clenched around him tightly as you released, your juices hitting his abdomen and coating his cock completely. He saw the look on your face, one of complete bliss, and that pushed him over the edge, cumming deep inside of you.

"La fruta prohibida siempre es mas buena," he murmured to himself as he dragged a warm washcloth against your pussy, gently so as to not overstimulate you. (the forbidden fruit is always the best one)

@plumplumpurin @thel0velykey190

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

I genuinely LIVE for your soft smit. Do you think you could possibly give us something where maybe Reader is stressed out or something and Harry just takes care of her? I love when he's all soft and mushy

masterlist | harry styles masterlist | requests are open

Kiss in the Kitchen like it’s a Dance Floor

~

Closing the front door behind him quietly, Harry takes his shoes off at the door before heading out in search for his wife. He already has an idea, though, because of the soft music coming from her cooking playlist and the fact that moment he stepped in the house he was met with a smell that was nothing short of delicious. So he quietly makes his way toward the kitchen, and the sight he’s met with makes his heart melt but at the same time he feels his cock hardening in his pants.

Seeing YN doing something so domestic is nothing new, but it never fails to make his mouth water or his mind go foggy as he watches her. From the pout of concentration on her lips to the sway of her hips, he doesn’t think he can keep to himself for much longer.

YN is simply in the kitchen, cooking stuffed chicken breast, something he’s sure is a surprise because on Fridays they usually get takeout. She knows it’s his favourite, though, and she just thought she’d do something nice since he’s been so busy lately.

He just continues to watch her in her element, a soft smile on his face and the ache of his cock a bit further back in his mind. The moment she finishes searing them she puts them in a baking dish, ready to put them into the oven. As she bends over, though, she feels a sharp slap against her left ass cheek and yelps as she nearly drops the food. She places the pan into the oven before turning around with a scowl and smacking Harry in the head with her oven mitt. “Fuck’s sake, Harry! You almost made me drop our dinner,” she grumbles, folding her arms over her chest and playfully glaring at a chortling Harry. He just gives her his signature dimpled grin before gently grabbing her waist and pulling her to him.

“m sorry, baby. You just look so good all concentrated that I couldn’t help it,” he teases, leaning down to peck her lips again. When she tries to pull away he pulls her tighter, deepening the kiss. They moan into each others’ mouths, and Harry lets out an actual whine when YN pulls away and turns back to the stove, ready to cook the vegetables for the meal. “I need to cook, babe. I actually want to eat at some point,” she responds, but he can still hear the teasing in her tone.

“Well how about this; you keep making what we’re gonna eat later, and I’ll work on what I’m going to eat before dinner,” he whispers against her ear then starting to kiss down her neck. He smirks against the skin of her neck when she starts to squirm and press her thighs together, her breathing picking up as well as her pulse.

“Harry, you always do this. Sometimes I just want to cook,” she replies breathlessly, a quiet moan leaving her lips as he begins to suck on the sensitive skin there. Harry just continues to smirk against her, rubbing up and down her hips with a hum.

“So if I stick my hand down your panties you won’t be soaked?” he asks, to which he shakes her head.

“Not even a little bit,” she says, a playful smile coming to her face as well.

“Let’s see then, hm?” he says, and he waits for her to nod before reaching into her shorts, where he finds that she’s not wearing panties. He slips a finger between her folds, her wetness helping him to move along. He gathers a bit on his fingers before using it as lubricant to rub at her swelling clit. Her knees nearly give out as she chokes on a moan and bucks her hips to his torch but he just wraps his other arm around her, keeping her in place.

He sets a steady pace instantly, pressing kisses to her bare shoulder as he works her clit with intent, each circle calculated and precise to push her toward her orgasm. Harry keeps this up for no more than two minutes or so before he feels her legs start to shake slightly and her hand flies up to grip his wrist as she begins to grind down onto his hand.

“That’s it, take what you need. You can cum whenever you have to,” he rasps, not changing anything about what he’s doing to her. “Let it out, you can cum for me. I’ve got you,” and that’s her unraveling. Her body goes completely rigid for a few moments but he knows better than to stop or slow down, and then she’s relaxing entirely and letting out a loud moan of pure pleasure as she rides out her orgasm against his hand.

“You did so well for me, bet that was a lot, huh?” he coos against her ear, rubbing her clit gently as she comes down from her high, bucking her hips against his hand in overstimulation. He moves away when she begins to squirm a bit from discomfort, slowly pulling his hand from her shorts.

She sighs happily, a dopey grin on her face and a glow like no other as she turns around to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “Can i cook now?” she asks him jokingly, and he just hums as he ignores the question. In response he just brings his hand up to her mouth, tapping at her chin for her to open before slipping his fingers inside. She immediately closes her mouth around them and moans at the taste. Harry can barely keep himself together as he feels her tongue move around his fingers, cleaning all of her orgasm off him. Pulling his fingers out, he smiles at her.

“Of course,” he responds to her earlier question before stepping back and leaning against the kitchen island on his elbows. “Don’t mind me.”

YN is confused because she surely thought this was going to go further. But she shrugs and turns back to the vegetables while the potatoes are boiling. The second she puts the asparagus in the oil she feels her hips pulled back and her shorts pulled down. She gasps in shock and looks back to see Harry dropping to his knees. Before she can get a word in, though, she feels him spread her open and swipes his tongue all the way from her clit to her opening. The moan she provides him with is full of surprise as she slams her hand down onto the counter, gripping it tightly.

Her other hand goes back to grip Harry’s hair, her hips bucking against his tongue. He groans against her at the feeling of her hand tangled in his hair, the delicious burn only making him need her even more than he already does. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he pulls her closer to his face while simultaneously pushing his face closer where he can feel her throbbing against his tongue.

He’s lapping eagerly at her, suckling on her clit for a few moments before slipping his tongue inside her throbbing hole. YN can only moan and begin to clench around his tongue when the tip of it just slightly grazes her g-spot. Her knees are about to give out but he doesn’t let her fall, gripping her tighter to his face. Her moans get louder and he knows she’s close again , so he groans into her once more, the vibrations sending her catapulting to the edge but she’s not there yet. He takes a hand and rubs her clit quickly, pulling away for just a moment to give her some encouragement.

“Let go, honey. Cum on my tongue, you can do it,” he encourages, his other hand going to rub at her belly because he knows that more than one orgasm can make or break his wife.

She only shakes her head, trying to squirm away from the pleasure. It feels too good, so good she feels like she can handle it. YN starts to feel tears build in her eyes from the intensity as the ball in her belly only seems to get heavier with each circle of her clit. “Too sensitive,” she whines, slamming her fist down onto the counter again as her entire body begins to feel hot. He’s relentless, though, rubbing even faster at her sensitive nub, holding her even tighter.

“I know, honey. But you can take it. It’s alright, just cum for me. Let it go, you know you can take it,”

She just lies her head down on the cool counter and lets her body begin to surrender to the pleasure. He doesn’t let, going back in and putting his mouth on her again. Her eyes roll back and her whole body locks up, her orgasm washing over her intensely. A broken sob leaves her, and she’s left unable to think as her vision goes black, her mind blank.

The orgasm starts at the tip of her toes, traveling all the way through her body and the tension finally releases out of her, covering his mouth and chin in her cum. Their connection is so intense that just the sound and feeling of her falling apart causes him to cum as well, the warmth spurting out of his throbbing cock, untouched. His hips buck against the back of her leg, and he groans out, still licking her gently to work her through her orgasm. Once they are both back down, he stands up and turns the stove and oven off, not wanting the food to burn. He guides her to the bathroom, cleaning them both up before putting more pajamas on her before placing her in bed, gently pecking her lips.

When she’s all tucked in and comfortable Harry runs downstairs to clean up the kitchen and plates their meals, grabbing some drinks and heading up the stairs.

While he was downstairs, she turned on their current television fixation, ‘Criminal Minds’ and waited for him to come back up. She melts when she realizes he brought their food up, thanking him quietly, and when he slides into bed next to her she kisses him deeply.

“You’re always so good to me. Thank you, baby,” she whispers, running her fingers through his damp curls. He nuzzles into her hand with a hum of contentment before he responds.

“No, thank you. Thank you for always being there for me and just for being everything I could ever ask for. I look forward to spending the rest of our lives together,” he responds, thumbing away some of her tears with a dimpled grin. “Okay, okay. Enough tears, let’s get some food in you before y’get too sleepy,” he chuckles before picking up her plate and passing it to her.

Once they’re finished eating, they take their dishes downstairs, vowing to do them in the morning. They spend the rest of the night cuddling until they fall asleep.

~

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 6: IF ONLY IT WAS WARMTH

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

He would drink half of his body weight in liquor by the time the clock struck twelve, maybe, honoring the tradition of forgetting the past year. He would be able to forget all the ways he’d caused you pain from his carelessness and his inability to communicate transparently. And then, maybe, he'll start the year anew with a kiss on your mouth. He could stake his claim on you officially, in front of everyone.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , oral sex, fingering, threesome, alcohol usage

ੈ✩ wc: 7.4k

ੈ✩ a/n: happy birthday to my pookie suguru and happy new year to all of them, especially reader, because god knows she needs it

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

Shoko’s short hair is in low space buns – proper ones, her hair now long enough for her to not look like she had haphazard tufts of hair sticking out of her head. She'd begged you to cut it for her before the formal, complaining that longer hair was too much to deal with. You’d snorted then – it was only down to her collarbone, just barely.

She holds out a cigarette to you as you lean on the glass of the storefront, your cheeks cold and bitten by the wind. 

“Thanks,” you sigh, inhaling and trying your best not to choke on the smoke. You almost do, a tickle in your throat about to rumble before you exhale. Shoko laughs. You still haven’t gotten used to Seven Stars, but you knew it was because she always preferred menthol the same way that Satoru preferred strawberry sake. Something to get a taste of to deflect from the damage it was doing to their insides. 

Utahime emerges from the front doors, flustered by the immediate temperature change. 

“Did they catch you for shoplifting or what?” Shoko teases.

“Never,” Utahime scoffs. “I’m not a delinquent like you.”

Shoko rolls her eyes, a sly grin on her face. You had only been shopping with the two of them for an hour and a half, yet the two of them were able to find their dresses unfairly quickly. Shoko had chosen a dark plum silk dress with purple floral details. Utahime had picked a simple red dress with a square neckline and straps that tied into bows at the shoulders.

“You wanna keep looking at other places?” Shoko asks you.

You smile graciously, shaking your head. 

“You said you guys were hungry, right? We can go back to shopping after lunch,” you shrug.

“Oh, yeah, that idiot texted,” Utahime murmurs absentmindedly as she looks at her phone. “The boys are running a little late. Let’s get a table without them.”

“The boys are coming?” You try your best not to sound nervous, though your voice comes out small.

“Not surprised,” Shoko jeers, dropping her cigarette on the pavement to snuff it out with her combat boot. “Satoru’s never been on time in his fucking life.”

Your stomach flips at the mention of his name. There wasn’t any reason for the boys to come since it was a girls’ day out, you thought. Then again, this is Satoru’s friend group. You wonder if Mei Mei would show up. The possibility makes your chest a bit tight.

You’re too afraid to ask the girls about her, so you lay your head low and listen to their conversation as you all walk to the restaurant, only chiming in with head nods and insignificant comments. 

The izakaya is a bit crowded, but you’re thankful for the warmth granted to you when you enter the restaurant. The smell of cooked meat makes your mouth water. As the three of you settle at your table and wait for drinks, you find your eyes straying away from the girls and toward the front door. 

Utahime is explaining the specifics of one of her most recent missions when you feel a commanding presence in the restaurant, immediately locking eyes with a pair of blue pupils staring back at you. You suck in your teeth, toying with the sleeve of your sweater as you attempt to appear nonchalant. 

Satoru and Suguru seem to steal the attention of the whole restaurant. You see the flustered look on the hostess’s face and it makes you cringe. Satoru’s cheeks are twinged pink, eyes bright as he speaks to her. You notice that patrons around him are also looking at him. Moths drawn to a flame.

When they arrive at your table, Suguru smiles at you warmly. Satoru is quick to slide into the booth next to you and Shoko while Suguru sits across from you, next to Utahime. The boys are dressed similarly – both wearing a white button-down and black jeans, though Satoru is wearing a black suede jacket and Suguru has opted for a denim one. 

Shoko leans against your shoulder to look at the menu, flipping immediately to the end of the menu for the beer and wine section.

“Shoko, we aren’t–” You’re interrupted by her hand covering your mouth.

“You really don’t go out much, jeez,” she chuckles. “They never card us here.”

With that, she orders three beers for herself, Utahime, and Suguru, a plum wine for you, and a chu-hi for Satoru, given how sugary it is. 

You’re quiet as everyone talks amongst themselves. It’s mostly Satoru and Suguru bickering over trivial matters, which ends up with Satoru bickering with Utahime over nothing, just because he likes to push her buttons. Shoko is quick to be the mediator in every situation. She’s able to interrupt with her own stories about volunteering at hospitals – private endeavors funded by Jujutsu Tech.

You listen to her, only bombarded by the sensation of a hand on your thigh. You kick Satoru lightly, but he doesn’t let up. Your face darkens when the waitress returns with your drinks, paying extra attention to Satoru, who unfortunately indulges her. 

“Any luck with finding a dress?” Suguru asks. He’s asking everyone, but his gaze ends up pointed at you.

“Not yet. Shoko and Utahime found theirs, though,” you smile. “They’re gorgeous.”

“Oh, I bet,” Satoru nods, smoothing his palm over your thigh again, making your breath hitch. You clench your jaw. “What were you thinking of getting, Twigs?”

“I don’t know, yet. Whatever speaks to me, I suppose.”

“You’ll look amazing in anything,” Suguru says. You smile at him in response, noticing the way Satoru straightens in your peripheral.

You sigh in relief when the food comes. The five of you dig into several shared plates, the smell of them wafting under your nose. Satoru piles pieces of tonkatsu and fried tofu onto your plate before you can protest.

“I can serve myself,” you mumble to him, irritated.

“I know what you like,” he shrugs.

Unfortunately, he’s right – he’s able to arrange your plate just the way you like it without any of your input. You’re honestly surprised at him remembering what your preferences are — you hadn’t shared a proper meal with the Gojo family in a few years. Even then, you considered your short hangouts with Satoru insignificant, fleeting enough that he wouldn’t care to remember what kind of food you liked.

You don’t speak much during the meal, mostly entertained by watching your friends debate and bicker. They’re a colorful bunch – you’d almost feel out of place if it wasn’t for each of them looking to you during a conversation for your input. All of them care about your presence. It’s something you aren’t used to.

“I think you should get something super sparkly. Or sheer and sparkly. Honestly, you could show up in a trash bag and still look hot as fuck,” Shoko murmurs before she attempts to chew on a peculiarly long piece of beef dangling from her chopstick. 

“She’s right,” Suguru adds, smiling at you as he holds his jaw in his hand casually. You smile shyly in response. You can feel Satoru’s eyes burning into your head. 

“Don’t be too pressured by them, though,” Utahime says. “Again, you’d look hot in anything, so don’t sweat it if you end up wanting to wear a kimono–”

“She’ll wear a dress,” Satoru interjects, lazily prodding a piece of pork on his plate. “She always looks the best in dresses.”

You cough lightly. It’s not enough to attract attention, but you do feel eyes on you as you down your plum wine in an attempt to calm down. 

“You guys are making me feel like a Barbie doll,” you joke, attempting to distract from your flustered state. You nearly wince at the feeling of Satoru’s palm on your knee. Unfortunately, his small strokes on your clothed leg do relax you a bit, like you’re being petted like a dog. 

“It’s your first Gojo ball, baby!” Shoko chimes. “You are our little Barbie doll.”

You feel more relaxed when she rests her head on your shoulder. It’s enough to make you forget that Satoru is touching you underneath the table, his hand rising higher than it should. When your eyes wander and end up on Suguru’s face, you freeze for a millisecond, nervous, as if you’re being found out. However, his eyes grant you solicitude and comfort. Or maybe it’s the plum wine making you warm.

It’s a miracle that you’re all able to pay the bill and leave the restaurant considering how many beers Utahime was craving, but Shoko had reminded her that you still needed a dress. In all honesty, you felt better off borrowing something from your mother. Something from Satoru’s mother if you were truly desperate, but the prospect of having to approach her for it made you want to die. 

After getting boba (per Satoru’s request), the five of you enter a vintage boutique that smells like black tea and tatami floors. It’s dim inside despite it being daytime, but the warm light of several hanging lanterns illuminates the place amiably. 

The boys go off to a corner – Suguru looks through a rack of jackets while Satoru tries on nearly every pair of sunglasses displayed on a mid-century bureau. He tries on a pair with lenses that resemble moth wings, three of them overlapping. He looks ridiculous, yet somehow still charming.

“Twigs, look!” he beckons.“Six Eyes.”

“Funny,” you nod. You chuckle at his face falling into a pout when you aren’t as enthused as him.

Your attention gets stolen away from Shoko, who is shoving a dress into your hands as she ushers you toward the dressing rooms.

“Try this on.”

“Wha– how do you even know my size–”

“Trust me!” she giggles, pushing you into the stall and promptly pulling the curtain closed.

You’re left to stare at yourself, dreading the act of taking all of your layers off. The dress in your hands barely looks appropriate for a formal event, short as it is. You put it on anyway, frowning at the way it barely hits above the middle of your thigh. It’s lacy and frilly with a corset top, making you feel like a triple-tiered cake, but it’s oddly… flattering. You feel like a Harajuku doll.

“Shoko, I can’t wear this to–”

“Oh!” Utahime gushes. “You look adorable!”

“She’s so cuuuuute,”’ Shoko adds.

“Oh,” Suguru blinks. “Come here.”

“Um–” Your breath hitches when he spins you around to tie the straps on the back, tightening them. 

“Better?”

“I– I think?”

Satoru watches Suguru move your hair out of the way and scowls. His eyes widen when he notices the length of the dress on you. Or lack thereof, rather.

“I feel like I’m wearing tissue paper,” you mumble.

“You look hot as fuck,” Satoru says bluntly. You roll your eyes even though he makes you flush.

“You should get it,” Shoko nods in agreement.

“Wh– we’re here for a formal dress!”

“Who thinks she should get it?”

Everyone raises their hand and stares at you. You blink at them in horror. 

“Okay, maybe, but this isn’t the priority.”

They leave you to your own volition after that, except for Satoru, who has resorted to following you around like a stray dog. You have to swat him away several times from trying to sip your boba until you eventually give up. 

“This one,” he points at something silk. “You like blue.”

“You like blue, Satoru.”

He sighs dramatically, watching you as you pick through dress after dress. The image of you in that white lacy number is burned into his mind – the way the hem exposed most of your legs, neckline showing off your chest. Despite the complicated straps, he imagines he could probably wrangle you out of it somehow, or at least be able to flip the skirt up—

His daydreaming is shaken by the blur of your rushed body into the dressing room. He follows you in without a warning.

“Satoru,” you hiss. “You can be without me for two minutes.”

“I can’t, actually,” he deadpans. Fuck, he’d made himself a little hard thinking about you. It doesn’t help that the dress you’re trying on is halfway on you, exposing the side of your breast to him.

The dress is beautiful – a light taupe color with tulle over the silk lining. The sheer fabric over it is adorned with crystals. 

“Jesus.”

“What?”

“Nothing, you look – um,” Satoru swallows his words. He’s never been fucking speechless in front of a girl before.

“Zip me up.”

His large hands scale the length of your bare back gently, making you shiver. His fingers close on the zipper, tightening the dress as he helps you. It feels more intimate than it should. When he catches your face in the mirror in front of him, he blushes and looks away.

He fixes your hair for you, watching you in the mirror as you examine yourself. He presses a chaste kiss to your shoulder. The feeling of his breath over your collarbone makes warmth pool in your gut. 

“You have no idea how hard you made me.”

“Control yourself,” you snap. 

God. Even that riles him up a bit more. 

You ignore him, stepping out of the dressing room to see three stunned faces. 

“Oh, uh, I needed help getting zipped up,” you mutter when Satoru emerges from behind you.

“Oh, wow!” Utahime muses. “Holy shit, this is the one.”

“Agreed,” Shoko nods.

“Really? It’s not too much?” you ask, tilting your head in the mirror. It’s flashier than your usual taste, but the fabric softly hugs the curves of your body in a way that’s comfortable despite the elaborate design.

“It’s perfect,” Suguru says. “You look perfect.”

You smile as Shoko adjusts the left strap of the dress for you, plucking out the tag from behind. When you notice her eyes widen, you strain your neck to look. 

“This shit is vintage Dior,” Shoko snorts. “Damn, it’s almost 300,000 yen.”

“Oh,” you frown. 

“We have all day!” Utahime offers. “There are tons of stores in the area–”

“I’ll pay for it,” Satoru interrupts. You draw a sharp breath.

“Satoru, I can’t let you do that–”

“Don’t worry about it. Think of it as a grad present. Get the other dress, too.”

You look at him, bewildered. 

“It’s not worth the trouble, I’d only wear it once–”

He interrupts you again, the sound of your name a firm warning despite the pleasant demeanor in his eyes. He gestures towards the dressing rooms.

“My mother will love it. You’ll look gorgeous,” he says. “Now go on so we can check out.”

You’re obedient, sighing in defeat and slight embarrassment. Shoko and Utahime look at each other, both raising their brows at Suguru, who shrugs at them, looking mildly amused. Satoru pays no mind to anyone’s reaction, merely returning to the accessories to look at sunglasses once more. 

He’s placid as he holds your bag for you, strangely gentleman-like as the five of you leave after checking out. You think there has to be a punchline waiting for you at the other end of this. Whatever this game of his was.

“So frowny today,” he murmurs into your ear. The two are slightly behind the others, who are engrossed in a debate about Godzilla movies. “You’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep it up.”

“What are you plotting?” you ask him, narrowing your eyes. 

“Nothing,” Satoru shrugs. “Just want you to look your best, s’all. I know how much you wanted that dress. Should I pay you to let me fuck you in it, too?”

You know you’d let him for free, which pisses you off. It makes your cunt ache.

“I’m not your whore.”

“Of course not, baby,” he grins, ruffling your hair. “I’m yours.”

New Year’s Eve, 2008

The banquet hall is more extravagant than any parties you’ve seen thrown at the Gojo estate. Fairy lights drape over each other, hanging from the dark blue ceiling in a way that looks like stars. 

The last time you spent New Year’s Eve with Satoru, the both of you were thirteen. Your mother had made everyone toshikoshi soba before the two of you had gone off to the local festival together to watch the fireworks. Your mother’s hand-me-down kimono on you was a bit oversized, but she had braided your hair, gathering it into a bun held together with hair sticks that were a gift from Satoru’s mother. 

You wear them in your hair now in a bun with the rest of your hair cascading down, borrowing from Suguru’s usual style. You feel odd in a gown that costs more than anything you’ve owned. 

“Cute,” Satoru had remarked, poking the dangling jade charm that hung off of your hair sticks. “I remember these.”

You calm your nerves with a glass of champagne offered to you. The menace next to you wasn’t helping your anxiety for the night – Satoru had been attached to your hip since you’d arrived. You didn’t even get a chance to see him with his date. You’re thankful that someone from his clan sweeps him away for a conversation, leaving you to scan the crowd for any sign of Suguru, Shoko, or Utahime. 

You’re startled by the feeling of a hand on the small of your back, but your face relaxes when you turn and see your dark-haired date. Suguru looks like a model, as expected, standing tall in a suit that mirrors Satoru’s. His hair is gathered in a bun, his bangs framing his face.

“There you are,” he greets you, placing a kiss on your jaw. Your eyelashes flutter. “Having fun?”

“Um, yeah,” you answer lightly, taking another sip of your drink. 

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Suguru says in your ear after leaning down. You were going to need copious amounts of alcohol before you could get used to his mere presence in a suit like this. “Gonna give Mei a run for her money. She always treats these things like the red carpet.”

You follow his gaze until it lands on Satoru and a girl with bluish-silver hair talking with who you assume to be members of the Gojo clan. Her hair is in an elegant updo weaved with baby’s breath, leaving two parallel face-framing pieces of hair in the front. Suguru is right – she has the look of a Hollywood movie star, shining in a lilac dress that compliments her pale skin. 

“Don’t worry,” Suguru says, smoothing a hand over your shoulder. “Her family stopped trying to marry into the Gojo clan after her father invested in some global conglomerate. Not to mention, she’s getting promoted to Grade 1 very soon.”

“Why would I be worried?” you laugh nervously. 

He shrugs, flashing you one of those soft, reassuring smiles of his as if he knows something you don’t. You suppose he does. If you were a cat, you could purr at the feeling of him gently stroking his fingers through your hair soothingly. It calms you. It feels wrong for you to get used to it. 

“The girls are here.”

You hear Utahime before you see her. She runs toward you with a squeal, arms wrapped around you happily as she compliments you.

“Utahime-senpai pre-gamed a little too hard,” Shoko explains.

“Don’t call me that. And it was two beers!” Utahime whines. She holds your head a bit too tightly, though you don’t mind. “God, you look so pretty. I guess Gojo’s trust fund can be used for good, occasionally.”

You’re grateful for her hands in yours – it makes you feel less out of place. You had to remember how to breathe earlier, walking around the banquet hall with only Satoru to accompany you. Underneath his scrutiny, you felt small despite the elegance and ostentation of your attire. There were many eyes on you and you assumed it was because of the crystals of your dress. However, there was a part of you that assumed it was because you weren’t welcome. You were a new face. A stranger.

Another glass of champagne gets shoved into your hands – golden liquid that dissipates the creature inside you that continues to pry open your insecurities. When you follow Suguru and the girls to the dancefloor, your shoulders sag in relief.

“I didn’t know Y/N and Suguru-kun were a couple. They’re adorable.”

“What?”

“Did you introduce them, Satoru?” His mother awaits his response, sipping nonchalantly at a glass of wine as her eyes wander towards the sight of you and Suguru on the dancefloor. 

“They aren’t dating,” Satoru mutters.

“Oh,” she hums. “Well, they look lovely together.”

They don’t.

Satoru wants to scream, maybe pull his hair out, but when he observes the way Suguru rests his gentle hands on your waist as he dances with you, he thinks that maybe his mother is right. He’s downed at least three glasses of sugary prosecco, hiccuping in conversation more than he means to. The two of you together are lovely. Alluring, even.

He’s too exhausted to mingle with more of his family. All of it is politics to him, anyway, which he doesn’t care for at all. As Satoru watches you dance with Suguru and the girls, something in his chest aches, something akin to jealousy. He would never say it out loud, always choosing to suffer in silence.

Your face brightens when Suguru whispers something into your ear. It used to be the way you looked at Satoru.

He stumbles up to the bar now, knocking back a shot of tequila. The taste of it is grotesque – he could never understand why his friends enjoyed liquor. Even the taste of sake, mild as it often was, made his nose crinkle in disgust. But he needed the boost if he was going to survive the night.

“Drowning your sorrows all by yourself, handsome?”

“Oh. Hey.” He nods a half-greeting to his date. Mei Mei smirks as she tips back Japanese whiskey, her dark lipstick still in place.

“Got a crush or something? You keep staring at that girl,” she muses. “I’m sure Geto-kun would share, no?”

Satoru feels provocation bubble up in his sternum as Mei Mei giggles at his plight. He knocks back another shot and resists the urge to vomit.

“She’s my best friend. Her mother– she works for us,” Satoru slurs.

“Cute. A Cinderella story.”

“Sure,” he mutters.

“What, Geto beat you for Prince Charming? Girls your age are easy, Gojo-kun,” Mei says. 

“Not her.”

“If you wanted her all to yourself, you should’ve just said so.”

Satoru’s face tightens. He bottles up his frustration and the new realization that Mei Mei is completely right – his obligation to be her date didn’t mean much. Perhaps, it never did. He was already mildly wasted when he had talked to the more important members of the clan earlier – it wouldn’t have mattered if you or Mei Mei were wrapped around his finger for the duration of these talks. 

He feels helpless now, watching all of you. Outside of himself. He twists the ring you gave him on his finger anxiously.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Mei snipes, pushing him lightly on the arm. “Your moping is depressing me. Go over there.”

For once, Satoru is grateful for Mei’s input. He had always been a bit selfish, but not to the extent that she was. She had always been unabashed about what she wanted, in a way that was blunter than Satoru, if that was possible. Then again, she only cared about money, anyway. But when it came to you, he wanted everything, but he couldn’t express that to you in a way that felt normal. He couldn’t tell anyone.

It had already made him nervous to claim you in such an unspoken fashion, knowing that his friends were catching on by the second. Suguru obviously had to be teasing him for the sake of it. Maybe that was why he decided to take you as a date at all—to spite Satoru. The thought makes his blood boil.

Satoru is glad for the after-party – the function of the ball was for networking and matters that he could give less than two shits about. The bonenkai that started an hour before midnight was always a gathering of the clan’s youth, along with whoever was in proximity to them. 

He would drink half of his body weight in liquor by the time the clock struck twelve, maybe, honoring the tradition of forgetting the past year. He would be able to forget all the ways he’d caused you pain from his carelessness and his inability to communicate transparently. And then, maybe, he'll start the year anew with a kiss on your mouth. He could stake his claim on you officially, in front of everyone.

This is what he tells himself. Though, through blurred vision and slurred words, Shoko and Utahime are belligerent in their teasing of him. 

“You’re going to get alcohol poisoning if you keep it up,” Suguru tells him with an air of concern. 

“I’ll be fiiiiiiine,” Satoru groans, rolling his eyes. “Twigs! Come sit on my lap.”

You don’t protest, but you don’t sit on his lap, either. His heart beats erratically at your proximity, especially since you’ve changed into the white dress from the boutique that Shoko had picked out for you. It shows off a good amount of your skin. It makes him feel fucking feral.

“C’mere,” he pouts. “Acting like I have fucking cooties.”

“I’m not letting you throw up on me,” you joke. Your cheeks are flushed. Your hair is tousled to perfection, missing your hair sticks as you let your locks flow freely around your shoulders. 

Satoru wants to touch you. Devour you. 

Utahime makes a joke that has your laugh tumbling out of your mouth like a gift. Bursting with joy. 

Satoru sighs, settling his head on your lap as he stretches out his limbs on the couch you’re sitting on. He expects you to protest, but you don’t. You welcome him with a hand through his hair as if he was still yours. As if you hadn’t been ignoring him for ten days straight.

Through the window, fireworks are already bursting through the night sky. Shoko and Utahime pull you off the couch for a shot, leaving Satoru to fend for himself. 

“You good, dude?” Suguru asks him. He barely registers his friend’s presence until Suguru grasps him firmly on the shoulder.

“Fuck, ‘m so fucking drunk, Sugu,” Satoru slurs.

“What’s wrong with you tonight?” he chuckles. Satoru doesn’t answer – he’s too focused on trying to fix his blurred vision. Even the Six Eyes isn’t susceptible to the effects of excessive alcohol consumption.

You, on the other hand, are drunk by the influence of your peers, senses on fire in the best way possible. It greatly contrasts the last time you had gotten this drunk, blacking out at Shoko’s birthday party. At the moment, your heart is full and your head is light.

Utahime’s arm hangs over your shoulder as Shoko grabs your attention, prompting you to pay attention to the countdown into the next year. You blink wildly as you stumble to your feet. It hadn’t even occurred to you that it was this close to midnight – you were mingling with everyone at the ball just an hour prior, hadn’t you?

“Five, four, three, two, one… Happy New Year!”

You giggle drunkenly. The arm wrapped around your waist feels like home, and when a hand turns your face just slightly, your eyes close on the feeling of ardent passion.

Your mouth is met with another’s, lips soft and tasting of the same champagne you had drowned yourself in for the night. When you open your eyes, you’re met with amber-brown ones – fox-like, full of ardor as they gaze into you. Your hand caresses porcelain skin in adoration.

You blink once. Suguru kisses you again. His hand is clutched in your hair, body slotting with yours in a way that lets you feel his palpable desire. The rapid beat of your heart. The feeling of his lips on yours is new, unprecedented. A blooming fruit ripened to the perfect sweetness. You moan at the feeling of his tongue sweeping over your bottom lip. He’s insatiable – he’s holding you so close that you think you might just melt into him.

When you break apart, you exhale sharply, touching your fingertips to your mouth as if to remind yourself of reality. You take a step back in surprise. Eyes blown out of lust and astonishment. 

“Happy New Year, darling.”

It’s whiplash to your senses. You’re yanked by a set of warm hands.

When you look up, it’s Satoru who’s urging you towards the hallway, an elevator awaiting you. Suguru follows behind with his hands in his pockets, his expression full of mirth.

“Satoru, what are you–”

“Shhh,” he interjects, capturing your jaw in his hand easily as he kisses you. He can taste Suguru on you – champagne and mint and the hint of smoke. It makes him moan into your mouth.

“Don’t get too worked up, Satoru,” Suguru murmurs.

“Shut up. You’ve been hogging her.”

“Ha, now that’s hypocritical.”

Your lips twitch as Satoru tugs you once more like a ragdoll. It takes you a bit of swatting to convince him that you can walk on your own. 

“Satoru, what the fuck–”

“Relax, my uncles own the hotel. I already booked a room–”

“Presumptuous of you,” you retort. You look at the two boys, dizzied. Still processing what the fuck is going on, though there isn’t time when Satoru is pushing you into the elevator. Suguru maintains his distance in a way that’s almost teasing.

“You weren’t invited,” Satoru mumbles, sticking his tongue out at him. His companion only laughs darkly. 

“You don’t have the balls to kick me out, though, do you?”

The elevator doors open. Satoru sighs dramatically as he takes your hand and leads you down the hall. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you enter the room – a large suite with two queen-sized beds. It’s luxurious, for sure, in a way that looks unreal. Fireworks are still bursting outside in your periphery from the balcony. There’s a fucking balcony.

You gasp when Satoru pushes you onto the bed forcefully, his arms caging you in. When you look at Suguru, he only smirks.

“Satoru–”

“Be gentle with her,” Suguru chuckles.

“Can’t believe you stole my fucking New Year’s kiss,” Satoru slurs. “Fucking prick.”

“You snooze, you lose,” Suguru drawls, bored as he sits on an armchair beside the bed. “Order another bottle of champagne for us, rich boy.”

“Whatever. After I fuck her.”

“Satoru!” you hiss, shoving him away. You look at the two of them in bewilderment. Suguru is unperturbed, merely looking at you with curiosity. Satoru is, of course, pouting. The moment of reprieve allows you to take a moment for yourself. It also lets you realize how truly drunk the two of them are. As your head swims, you realize you aren’t any better.

“Baby, I don’t even really want him here,” Satoru complains, rubbing his hand on your thigh. “Kick him out.”

Suguru looks at you expectantly, his grin sugary-sweet. Your bottom lip throbs at the memory of his tongue in your mouth regardless of how brief it was. 

“Who said I wanted to fuck you tonight?” you frown at Satoru, who looks like he’s about to cry from your statement alone.

“It’s been two fucking weeks,” he mutters into your neck. “Can’t take it anymore.”

“What a baby,” Suguru comments. “Maybe you should toss him a bone, princess. Then maybe he’ll stop whining.”

You’re flustered beyond repair, warm in your body despite how little of it your dress covers. It doesn’t help that Satoru roams his palms over your skin, making you flush from the heat of his touch. It also doesn’t help that Suguru’s eyes on you alone make you feel like you might spontaneously combust. 

Satoru has always been expressive, but you’ve never seen him so… emotional. It’s odd, the way he looks at you. Like you have him in the palm of your hand and not vice versa. As if you were the one who dragged him into this hotel room alone.

Maybe it’s the devil on your shoulder speaking to you in your head or the massive amounts of champagne in your system from the ball, but something makes you rise from the bed, leaving Satoru limp and pliant. You lean over him as you stand, pushing his hair back to feel the warmth of his forehead.

“Drink some water,” you coo to Satoru, stroking his cheek gently. Your voice is so sweet. It makes his cock throb underneath his slacks. “You need it, baby.”

Satoru curls into himself as his body settles onto the bed, eyes stuck on you. Staring at you with helpless baby blues, which widen as you sit on Suguru’s lap. He groans a bit in annoyance, rolling his eyes when he rises to take a water bottle from the mini fridge and downs a third of it in one gulp.

“Come here, please.”

“No,” you laugh. “Rest for me.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, obedient. Desperate. He looks pathetic, like a sad dog. “But I want you to sit in my lap.”

“You have to earn it then.”

As if on cue, Suguru snakes a hand to your abdomen, holding you gently. You adjust in his lap, absentmindedly grinding into his thigh. Satoru groans at the sight of it. He feels fucking insane – his drunkenness makes him feel like he’s losing his fucking mind. He hasn’t fucked you in two weeks, and now you were grinding on the thigh of his best friend right in front of him.

Suguru is gentle as he strokes your bare thigh, but it makes your core pool with desire nonetheless. You’re sure he can feel it, which would make you flush with embarrassment if you were sober. Feeling the hitch in his breath behind you only fills your chest full of lust.

You turn your head so that you’re nose to nose with him. His lips are centimeters from yours, though you only drink up his low exhales. His mouth glistens, you notice – the remnants of your lip gloss stuck on his mouth. 

Satoru whines in front of the two of you like an animal that’s been kicked. You’re both good at ignoring him. It awakens something dark inside you. Something hungry and heinous.

You’re too drunk to initiate anything, you realize – you’re perfectly content with being used. It’s degrading, maybe, but you trust them. Both of them. 

You turn your head, curling yourself into Suguru’s grasp so he can kiss you fully. You moan as he prods his tongue into your mouth, tasting the remnants of champagne on your teeth. His hand rubs on the inside of your thigh, hiking up your dress until it’s pooled around your waist.

“Don’t fuck her with your cock,” Satoru growls. “I wanted to be the one to do that. If you fuck her in that dress before I do, I’ll actually kill you.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Suguru sneers. 

Suguru knows better. He wouldn’t fuck you so quickly while you’re this inebriated regardless of how much you could beg for him. For now, he circles his fingers on the skin of your thigh until you move his hand higher. When his fingertips graze your wetness, you moan.

You can barely move with the way Suguru holds you, his arm around your waist iron-tight. It excites you. Satoru had always been rough with you, but he had also been your first. The feeling of someone else wanting you so much has you dazed, head staggering each time Suguru touches you in a place that feels new.

You aren’t sure if you enjoy being watched or if you enjoy watching Satoru squirm. Either way, you decide to make a show out of it – your voice moaning louder than usual when Suguru slides a finger under the fabric of your panties. Circling the core of your leaking pussy.

“Sugu,” you whine, desperate.

“I know, baby,” he coos. “Be patient.”

Satoru groans. You almost laugh when you see him palming his cock over his pants.

“So fucking adorable,” Suguru muses, his fingertip rubbing on your clit, now. “So pretty. Can’t believe Satoru’s been hiding you from me for so long.”

“Fuck off,” Satoru rasps, his drool spilling onto the bed. “She’s fucking mine.”

“Ours, now.”

Suguru grins widely, pressing into the swollen nub of your clit more intensely while his other hand prods at your hole. You gasp when you feel a finger move past your slick, gliding in between your walls as they tighten.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he chuckles. Satoru groans again at the sight of your glistening cunt, his rasp something in between pleasure and anguish. “He’d look good tied up, don’t you think?”

You nod, breathless. Eyes half-lidded. Drunk on him, drunk on yourself.

“Go ahead,” Suguru encourages, freeing his hand to take off the tie around his neck. “Know you wanna.”

You exhale deeply when he lets go of you gently. It terrifies you – the notion that you enjoy being held down. Trapped under a man’s grasp. Suguru still has a hold of you, has his hand circling your clit before he stops and nudges you toward the bed. Your knees feel weak as you crawl to Satoru with Suguru holding you from behind. He massages your shoulder gently. 

You crawl on the bed, pinning him down. Satoru lets you tie his wrists together without complaint, his eyes blown out. He’s too clumsy to kiss you properly, missing your cheek by a hair.

When Suguru pulls you back onto his lap, he’s seated back on the chair, now pulled closer to the bed. Your cunt, bare and wet and exposed, makes Satoru’s mouth water. His face is just inches away.

“So fucking tight, baby,” Suguru taunts as he pushes his index finger inside your cunt. “Has he really fucked you so much or am I the first?”

“Suguru,” Satoru warns. 

“Sheesh, we should’ve put a muzzle on him, huh?” 

Suguru presses down on your clit and then presses two fingers into your wet cunt, making you moan. With his other hand, he discards you of your lace panties and shoves them in Satoru’s mouth.

“Sugu– more–” you whine. Satoru groans at the same time as you, his white lashes blinking quickly in succession as he watches you writhe under Suguru’s grip.

Suguru adds another finger and it’s enough to make you cry out. You feel so fucking full. You shake lightly in his grasp, moaning sweet nothings until he kisses them up, his tongue laving over your wine-stained bottom lip. 

He thrusts his fingers into you in a steady rhythm that makes your legs shake. When he curls his fingers inside of you, you cry out at the feeling of his fingertips stimulating your G-spot. You’re stunned at how quickly he finds it – it’s as if he’s fucked you before. His thumb circles your clit at the same time, making you melt into him, catching his mouth in a kiss as he works you through your release.

Your head is clouded. Underneath his hands, your plasticity has no bounds, able to bend and twist the way your boys want you to. But Suguru simply holds you as you come down, adoring the way your eyes flicker. 

Your attention is stolen by the sound of Satoru’s moan. When you look at him, he’s helpless, which is a first. He’s squirming on the hotel bed, eyes dark and desperate on you. 

Suguru soothes his fingers over the skin of your thigh soothingly. His teeth nip the skin of your jaw in a way that makes Satoru’s face darken. Even after your orgasm, you grind over Suguru, desperate to get him as excited as you. You nearly cry out at the feeling of his hard cock underneath you.

“You cum in your pants or what, Satoru?” Suguru taunts after exhaling deeply, catching your breath in a slow kiss.

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Satoru unties himself, easily. You’re still drunk, confused as you watch him, wondering if he had just figured out a way to untie himself on his own or if he had always known, waiting until you finished. You never understood his games. At the moment, you’re much too far gone to care.

You’re pleasantly surprised when your body is thrown onto the bed. Satoru has you pinned to it with his hands on your hips. It’s all a hurried blur, but the taste of him on your lips is familiar. It makes you soften to his touch as he pries your legs open.

You barely have time to react when his tongue circles your clit, then penetrates your cunt. It’s sloppier than what you’re used to from Satoru, but you don’t blame him. He watches you for your reactions, his eyes wide with desire-fueled mania, pupils taking up the ocean of his irises. Wide enough to make you feel shy under his gaze.

“Tastes so fucking good,” Satoru mumbles, exhaling into your cunt. You roll your eyes back at the feeling of his mouth on you. When you turn your head, you see Suguru palming his cock. 

“So pretty for us, princess,” he smirks.

Satoru pauses, if only to have his hands crawl up the length of your body to pinch your nipples. You shiver at the feeling of his hands on you, roaming your soft skin. You feel vulnerable like it’s your first time all over again. 

“S-Satoru– oh, fuck–”

He hums, pleased. He keeps his mouth on your cunt, lapping up your slick rigorously as his free hand stimulates your swollen clit. You hear a low gasp that doesn’t come from Satoru.

You can barely grasp language when you cum – shaking underneath Satoru’s hold on you and whining his name in the aftermath. He grins when he hears it, rises to his feet just so he can kiss your exposed collarbone and the expanse of your bare breasts. 

He kisses you then, reveling in the whine that emits from your mouth when he licks into you. Your hand curls into the back of his neck, caressing the softness of the white hair on his nape as he kisses you. He’s rutting into the mattress out of desperation. 

Satoru only stops when Suguru holds him back, literally, with a pull to his white dress shirt.

“Greedy whore,” Suguru scoffs. “Blow me later.”

“No,” Satoru replies, rolling his eyes. When he turns back to you, his demeanor is sugary-sweet, looking at you with adoration. He’s breathless as he stares at you as if he’s committing the image of your nude body to memory. “You okay, baby? Want me to fuck you?”

“Not now,” you breathe. You must look like a mess in front of them. You’re sweating through the lace of your dress, which is currently bunched up to your hips. It hadn’t even occurred to you that you were bare everywhere else. “Sleepy.”

“Oh, poor baby,” Suguru purrs. “Satoru, help me get her to the bathroom.”

The boys manage to strip you of your dress and convince you to wash your face, which you do half-heartedly until Satoru takes matters into his own hands. 

“I don’t know if this is the moisturizer you like, but it has, uh, ceramides?”

You’re barely listening as you sit on the toilet, stretching your legs. Satoru plays scientist, fumbling over a toiletry bag that he’d usually kept for you underneath his bathroom sink.

He massages your face underneath his fingertips. The sight of your fresh face makes his heart beat erratically. For a moment, he wishes Suguru would leave or fall asleep just so he can keep this version of you for himself. The version he knows best. The one’s he’s committed to memory.

“Ready for bed, sweetheart?” Suguru asks. 

The sound of both of their voices is lost to you, fading into the background of your mind as you fall into the bed. You feel comfort in being naked until the boys dress you in your discarded underwear and someone’s oversized dress shirt. The action is a blur to your senses, because the moment they release you, you hit the pillow with heavy eyes closed.

“Love you. Love you so much.”

You don’t recall who says it back. It won’t matter to you when the morning comes, you suppose.

[goldenseresinretriever]

False Confidence: Chapter 2

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, discussion of sexual harassment, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: What if instead of a teaser, I posted the chapter, hmmmm?

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Everyone’s waiting for your answer but your head is spinning. The silence stretches for just shy of too long before you finally clear your throat. “Can I have a minute?” You stand, shakily, pushing your chair back and making for the door. You curl your fingers around Josie’s wrist as you pass her, tugging her after you. No one tries to stop you and when you exit into the hallway, it’s empty. You glance in both directions, find them unfamiliar and then just pick one, dragging Josie behind you. Once you think you’re out of earshot of the office, you round on Josie who’s regarding you calmly. Your hands are still trembling but you can’t hide your anger anymore and you snap. “What were you thinking!” You snap and Josie’s eyes widen in surprise. Your voice trembles but the bite is still there. “First you tell me to sue him for sexual assault and now you want me to date him?!” Josie sighs, rolling her eyes.

“You really think that little of me, Roadie? Look, what he did was fucked up, and I knew you wouldn’t want to press charges because you’re well, you, but I want to support you if that’s something you really want. Either way he deserves to pay for what he did. If you don’t want to take this to court that’s fine, but why not benefit from this? You said it yourself, you’re worried about Dan’s rule, so play the system. Also, I didn’t say you should date him because I wouldn’t wish that fate on my worst enemy, I said to fake date him. It’s just a game, like playing pretend. It’s January, Dan makes his decisions on renewals by April at the latest and then maybe you stick with it until the end of the year and then you can say you broke up over summer break and it’s over. Plus it’s perfect, just have him show up to a few school events. It doesn’t have to be everyone since he has a career that has him traveling most of the year, so you have a good reason when you don’t bring him to something. And since he’ll be gone most of the time anyway, you don’t have to put much effort into the ruse.”

“Plus,” she gives you a rueful smile. “As much as it pains me to say it, Javy’s not such a bad guy. I don’t approve of his choices but I know from seeing him with the guys and Zam especially, he’s got a good heart. When he says he’s sorry and that he didn’t mean to hurt you, I think he means it. The guy has three sisters for heaven’s sake. I wouldn’t even think of suggesting this if I didn’t trust him in some capacity. And like I said, it’s not like you’re actually dating him.” She shrugs again.

“I couldn’t do something like that. Using someone that way? It’s not right.” Your heart squeezes as you force the words out and you try your best to ignore the way your voice shakes. Josie gives you a pointed look.

“He’s using you too, remember? Zam needs him to fix his reputation. A steady girlfriend is exactly what he needs, or at least the illusion of one.”

“Does he need it, or does the team?” Your words have more bite than you intended and Josie regards you curiously.

“He is the team. It’s his job, the way your teaching position is yours.” She says coolly. “I’m not going to force you one way or another, but I’m just saying, an opportunity like this isn’t going to come around again.” Your stomach is a tangle of nerves as Josie goes back inside and you consider her words. It would be mutually beneficial for both of your jobs, and he clearly wasn’t attracted to you, so perhaps some kind of agreement wouldn’t hurt. You can’t believe you’re actually considering this but you think about your kids, your classroom, and your job that you really do love. If this was what you had to do to guarantee that you kept it, you could play the game. Your kids are everything and you take great pride in your work. As a kindergarten teacher, you’re the kids’ first impression of the school and you take that job very seriously. The idea of having to hand that over to someone else makes your heart twist painfully in your chest. You can do this for them.

“Hey,” a voice breaks through your train of thought and you jump in surprise. Javy holds his hands up in front of him, backing up a step to give you space. “Easy, I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m not going to hurt you.” He says, brown eyes widening at your terrified expression. You feel your body curl into itself instinctively and see a flicker in his eyes that you can’t read. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He says slowly, eyes running over your figure but not in a scrutinizing way. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was checking you over. “So,” he says, posture relaxing as he leans a shoulder against the wall as he regards you. “How are you feeling about this agreement?”

You pick at the fabric of the skirt of the dress, averting your eyes so you don’t have to look at him. After it’s been a little too long without you answering you give a slight shrug before you force the words out, your voice quiet. “I really love my job. I don’t want to lose it.” It’s not an answer, not really but he nods slowly as you chance a peek at his face to see his reaction. He catches your gaze and gives you a small smile. It feels like the first peek of the sun through an overcast sky after a storm. It sends an unexpected droplet of warmth plummeting straight into your stomach. You find that you don’t want to escape his gaze nearly as much after seeing that soft quirk of his lips. Cautiously, you turn to face him fully and watch as the corners of his mouth slowly tick up in tandem. The clouds move apart and as you’re bathed in his warmth, you wonder what it would feel like to experience the full force of his smile. You think it might destroy you.

“What about you?” You don’t recognize your voice when you find it. You clear your throat and try again. “How are you feeling about the agreement?” He shrugs his broad shoulders.

“There are worse things.” You suppress the urge to flinch at his casual words that send a slice of cold down your spine. “Zam’s been on my ass for months about settling down, that’s true.”

He pauses so you ask, “And you wouldn’t rather have an actual girlfriend? A real one, I mean.” He gives you a curious look.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he points out and you feel your cheeks heat as you avert your gaze from the intensity of his.

“No,” you answer softly. “I wouldn’t.” You don’t offer any additional explanation so he just nods.

“Well, I wouldn’t either.” He says and you realize you’ve unintentionally placed the two of you at a stalemate. “So, that’s it then?” He asks, finally breaking the silence. “We’re doing this?” You swallow hard before nodding firmly.

“We’re doing this.” He nods back before extending a hand into the buffer of space he’d left between the two of you. You stare at it for a long moment before extending one of your own. He holds his hand still, leaving it to you to wrap your digits around his larger ones. He curls his around yours then and you’re reminded of how they felt on your hips, pressing into the flesh like a potter molding clay. When he shakes your hand you watch the muscles flex in his arm and wonder if you’ve unknowingly thrown yourself into the deep end, condemned to a death by drowning.

“Hi, I’m Javy, nice to meet you.” Even though he’s told you his name once before, this feels different. You introduce yourself as well. It feels odd. You’ve known him before ever being introduced. This feels different, almost like the air between the two you had shifted. He lets go of your hand as quickly as he grips it and holds out his hand back towards Zam’s office.

“Shall we?” He asks and you nod, turning to go ahead of him. You feel the ghost of fingertips against the small of your back and you stiffen instinctively at the unexpected contact. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he apologizes instantly, pulling his fingers away. “I’m a naturally touchy guy. It’s a bad habit, I’ll try to be more aware of it if it makes you uncomfortable.” He sounds genuinely apologetic and maybe a tiny bit embarrassed. He holds the door to the office open for you as you both enter and you square your shoulders, willing them not to shake as you approach Zam’s desk.

“I’ll do it.” Zam looks surprised but nods before turning to Javy.

“Javy?” You don’t turn to look at him but the pause before his answer tells you he’s nodding.

“I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Zam says, not sounding very convincing before she tries again. “Good. I’ll draw up something official that the two of you can sign. In the meantime, the two of you should get to know each other. Javy, I’ll arrange a press conference at which you’re going to address the photos and ask the press as well as your fans to respect your girlfriend’s privacy. After that you’ll need to start appearing together in public: dates, Roadie you’ll need to start attending home games and maybe even an away game or two where your schedule permits.” Your brain starts getting hazy as the weight of what you’ve just signed up for settles onto your shoulders. Zam’s still speaking but your brain is louder as it gets heavier and then Zam’s dismissing everyone.

You feel Josie’s hand on your shoulder, steering you towards the door. You file out of the office with everyone else and follow behind Josie, your mind still so busy that you don’t hear the calling of your name until a hand curls around your wrist and you jump, letting out a squeak of surprise. The hand retreats instantly and Javy gives you a guilty look. “Sorry, but you weren’t answering.” He scratches the back of his neck. You give him a shy nod, twisting your hands in front of you. “I don’t have your phone number. I figured that’s probably important.” You fumble to extricate your phone from your purse, tapping at the screen with trembling fingers before handing it to him. He inputs the digits with ease before handing the phone back. “Cool, well I’ll be in touch.” He says before giving you one last smile before turning to jog down the hallway in the opposite direction.

Once he’s gone you look down at your phone, and your eyes widen as you see what he’s done. Your texts are open to a new conversation with a contact named “Big Sexy ;)” with a single bubble from your side of the chain reading “How’s dinner sound?” Your phone chimes and a message pops up from the opposite side of the screen.

“It would be my pleasure.” Followed by an unfamiliar address. Your breath catches in your throat. Not for the first time today you wonder if you’re in over your head.

***

Your kitchen looks like a hurricane’s gone through it. The result of the storm perches on the corner of the counter, prompt seated in a frilly baking dish. The lemon-blueberry loaf fills the space with a delicious aroma as you frown at your reflection. You’d finally invested in a full-length mirror at Josie’s behest and you’re still getting used to using it. You smooth your hands down the surface of your light-wash jeans, resisting the urge to tug at the sweater you’re wearing as you regard your reflection. Your eyes shift to the sliver of the kitchen that you can catch in the mirror and frown at the mess. You’re a stress baker and so far today you have the loaf you’re taking to Javy’s along with muffins for your class tomorrow and another tray for the teachers. You glance at the clock on the wall and grimace. If you don’t leave now you’ll be late and you don’t need that extra stress on top of everything else on your mind tonight. You begrudgingly grab your purse and the loaf pan, heading out as the sun starts to paint the sky with the warm pallet of sunset.

***

You googled the apartment complex before you left but that doesn’t stop you from craning your neck up at the impressive reflective surface of the luxury apartment building. It’s smack in the middle of downtown San Diego and you’d passed a packed highway of commuters heading in the opposite direction on your way here. As you step into the opulent lobby, you feel severely underdressed, especially as you approach the front desk. You’ve never seen an apartment with a front desk but then again you’ve never had reason to interact with the extremely wealthy aside from teaching their children. The woman at the front desk doesn’t look much younger than you but she could be older. It would make sense that a job like this would age you less than corralling elementary schoolers all day.

“Can I help you?” She asks with a nasal voice that has everything to do with her pinched expression of thinly veiled disgust as she gives you a once-over that’s definitely not in her job description. You give her a tight-lipped smile in response.

“I’m here to see Javy Machado.” You consider calling him Mr. Machado but if he’s supposed to be your boyfriend you need to sound comfortable around him. Especially since this probably won’t be the last time you have to interact with… Emma. You find her name tag as she finishes her silent assessment of you, a pitying smile on her lips.

“Oh honey, you’re not going to need that.” She nods at the loaf pan in your hands. “It’s not the kind of cake he invited you over for.” She smirks like she’s won some sort of game and you wonder exactly how many girls she’s seen come through here. You plaster your polite smile on even harder, imagining her as one of your students’ mothers. You’re not sure where your confidence comes from but maybe Roadie, fake girlfriend to superstar hockey player Javy Machado is braver than Ms. Roadie, kindergarten teacher, because you respond coolly.

“I’d appreciate it if you let my boyfriend know I’m here, please, Emma. We have dinner plans.” She looks like she’s about to snort but then her expression changes completely and you don’t understand until she addresses someone who must be behind you.

“Mr. Machado! Good evening!” She chirps cheerfully and she reminds you of a baby bird. Desperate. You steel yourself and turn to face Javy, keeping your brave face in place as best as you can.

“Perfect timing, sweetheart.” The words sound clunky and unfamiliar in your mouth and you see Javy’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly before understanding fills them.

“Hey beautiful, ready for dinner?” He leans in then, eyes watching you carefully as if trying to convey his intentions before his warm lips meet your cheek in a chaste kiss that sets your skin ablaze in its wake. You give him a simple nod, words failing you as you turn over the casual term of endearment in your mind.

Emma’s watching your exchange with barely contained shock. Javy doesn’t even pay her a moment of attention, nodding to the left in silent instruction and you follow him to an elevator bay. You register then that his hands are full of takeout bags and you immediately wrestle one from his grasp as he juggles them to free a hand for the keypad to the elevator. “Thanks," he says and you arrange the bag in your arms. “I hope you like Cajun.” The smell escaping the bags hits your nose then and your nostrils fill with the rich, spicy scent and you feel a little of the tension slip out of your shoulders even though the smell is entirely foreign to you.

“I’ve never had it.” You admit as the elevator arrives and the two of you board it.

“Never?!” He looks surprised before it melts into a grin that knocks the air out of your lungs. “Well, then this is the perfect place to try it for the first time. Well, other than New Orleans.” He amends and you nod along. The two of you fall into silence as the elevator climbs. You notice then what he’s wearing as you stand on opposite sides of the elevator. You’d felt underdressed in the lobby but he’s dressed in a faded ASU shirt and athletic shoes over socks and slide sandals. He notices you looking and gives you a rueful look. “I was banking on having time to change before you got here.” He explains and you shake your head, dismissing his half-apology.

“It’s fine. It’s your house after all.” He smiles again and the silence is back before the door slides open onto an entryway. You’ve arrived straight into his apartment and you let your eyes explore the beginning of his home. The entryway is sparse and undecorated. It looks stiff, devoid of personality. There’s a hallway that turns out of sight to your left and a closed door to the right.

“That’s the spare bedroom.” He explains as he slips off his shoes and you follow suit. “It’s a weird layout but it suits my needs.” You’re not entirely sure what he means until you follow him down the hallway. Once it opens onto the living room you think you understand Javy Machado just a little bit more.

The living room is a complete 180 from the entryway. The furniture looks expensive and the floor-to-ceiling windows overlook a breathtaking view of the city but the end tables are littered with picture frames and the space has a distinct lived-in feel. You get the feeling that his overnight guests don’t make it this far into the apartment. He makes a beeline for the kitchen and you hurry to catch up with him. You manage to catch sight of at least one of the frames’ contents and a soft smile quirks at your lips. A younger Javy and Jake grin back at you. Their arms are slung over each other’s shoulders, faces sweaty, wearing red and gold hockey jerseys that you assume are from ASU given Javy’s shirt of the same color. You make your way into the kitchen where Javy’s opening the bags and accounting for all the food. He looks up when you come in, depositing the extra bag next to him and the loaf pan beside it. He snatches it up, groaning as he takes a deep sniff of the contents.

“Roadie, this smells delicious.” He remarks before excusing himself to his bedroom to change leaving you in the kitchen. Once you’re alone, you feel the nerves start to creep back in. You worry the hem of your sweater as you wait until a faint jingling reaches your ears and you turn just in time to see a wary black snout make its way around the corner into the kitchen. Of all the things you’ve seen so far in Javy’s apartment, this is the biggest surprise. The tiny dachshund regards you curiously and you do your best to manage your nerves, knowing the dog can definitely sense them and squat down.

“Hi there,” you whisper cautiously and the dog approaches carefully. You reach a hand out and she sniffs it suspiciously before licking at your fingers and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips. You catch sight of her collar as you scratch her head gently. “Roxie” it reads and you smile wider. “Hi there, Roxie, it's nice to meet you.” Roxie seems equally pleased and rolls over onto her belly to encourage further scratches and rubs. You’re so consumed with her that you don’t notice Javy return until Roxie squirms into your grasp to face her owner, giving a playful yip. He’s gaping at the two of you and you’re instantly nervous again. You stand quickly, dusting your hands off on your jeans.

“S-sorry I didn’t mean to intrude I just- She came in here so I just- I’m sorry.” You sputter but he’s still staring at Roxie before he slowly moves his gaze to you. Something unreadable passes through his eyes and then he shakes his head.

“No, it's fine I just, she was supposed to be in the laundry room. And I…” he trails off before continuing. “She doesn’t usually like other people, especially strangers.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” he says, looking back down at where Roxie’s sitting, regarding him with a cocked head on the floor. He looks back at you, expression unreadable. “Should we eat?” You nod and follow him to sit at the countertop. He pulls two bowls out of the cabinets and opens up some take-out soup containers. “How do you feel about seafood?” Your stomach drops as nerves twist your gut. He looks up and must see your expression because he just nods and grabs one of the containers, dishing the hearty-looking stew into a bowl before passing it to you. “That one’s just sausage. I didn’t know where you stood on seafood, so I got both.” Your heart aches slightly as you thank him and take the bowl. He fills his bowl from a different container before taking a seat next to you. “So, Roadie,” he says after taking a few bites in silence, “tell me about yourself.”

You squirm slightly in your seat. You’ve never been one to talk much about yourself so you decide to stick to the basics, and treat this like a job interview. It kind of is a job interview, except you’re interviewing for a position after taking it instead of before. “I’m almost thirty. I’m a kindergarten teacher at Acacia Academy. That’s how I know Josie and Reuben. Josie and I are colleagues and their daughter Skylar is in my class.” Javy nods, before asking.

“Do you like it? Teaching?” You nod vigorously and you think you see a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“My kids mean everything to me. I can’t imagine doing something else.” You admit and he nods again.

“What do you do other than work?” You give him a confused look so he clarifies. “What are your hobbies?”

“I’m an artist,” you answer easily. “It’s not in any way professional by any means, but I like doing it.” You shrug.

“What kind of art?” He asks and you shrug again.

“I work with lots of mediums, I don’t like being limited to just one.”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Painting,” you answer easily.

“Why?” He rests his chin on his hand and you feel pinned under his casual gaze. It feels odd, and unfamiliar, being the sole focus of his attention. It’s like walking to your car on a cloudless day and feeling every inch of your cool skin prickling under the unyielding warmth of the sun.

“It’s so versatile,” you explain, dropping your gaze to where your fingers pick at the napkin pinned under your bowl. There are so many styles and techniques and nothing is clear-cut. You’re not limited by the colors you have in front of you, everything can blend. Anything’s possible. The only limitation you have is your creativity.” An unreadable look passes through his eyes but then he’s back to normal. You don’t get long to dwell on it, though, before he’s back to asking you questions.

***

“So, you said your principal doesn’t care about making illegal rules because it’s a private school, so why not teach at a public school?” You fidget with your spoon, looking away from him before answering.

“Public schools aren’t really a good fit for me. I can’t get comfortable.” He doesn’t push and you’re thankful.

“Speaking of comfort, we should talk about how we’re going to do this.” At your confused expression, he elaborates. “Pretend to be in a relationship, I mean. For starters, if we’re really going to sell this, you can’t be jumping out of your skin every time I touch you. People are going to expect at least a little PDA.” He must see the wide-eyed dread on your face because he holds up a placating hand. “I’m not saying we have to make out every time there are cameras around, but holding hands, hugs, and the occasional kiss here and there are going to have to be something you’re comfortable with.” You nod, weakly. “That being said, if there’s anything specific you don’t want me doing, tell me. I don’t want you to be scared of me. We’re on the same team here. This doesn’t work if we’re not working together.” You nod, nervously. It wasn’t like this last time, this is all new territory for you. “If it’ll help you loosen up, we could just have sex. No strings attached, obviously, but if it’ll make you more comfortable-“

“NO.” Your voice comes out with more force than you intended it to, laced with terror as your heart hammers in your chest. What are you doing here? What were you thinking, agreeing to this? Of course, he’d expect you to have sex with him. He’s used to having a new girl every night. You’re losing the battle with your thoughts when Javy breaks right through them.

“Hey, HEY, easy Roadie, it was just a suggestion, we don’t have to.” He looks like he’s fighting the urge to grab your hands in his.

“Please,” you hate the way the word sounds. You want something to feel real. One first to be yours, truly yours. Clearly, he hates the way it sounds too because his face contorts into something unfamiliar before he nods.

“No sex, done.” He hesitates for a moment before he opens his mouth again, choosing his words carefully and you see a flash of rage in his eyes and you bristle in fear. “Roadie… I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk about this with, but I just,” he shakes his head, pushing forward. “Did, did someone hurt you?” You realize what the rage in his eyes is now. Not anger at you, for turning him down, but protectiveness. Because he’s taken your vehement refusal as something else. You faintly remember Josie mentioning that he has three sisters. Of course, that would be his first instinct. You shake your head quickly.

“No, no, it’s not that.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you and thinks you just don’t trust him as the fire in his eyes doesn’t dim.

“If you ever need someone to talk to, all the girls on the team are really sweet and would be willing to-“

“It’s not that.” You insist and you can tell he’s still unconvinced.

“Not that you have to talk to someone but I’m sure it might help-“

“JAVY, I’m a virgin.” You squeeze your eyes shut before blurting out the words, hiding from the shame that coats your throat in their wake. The silence between the two of you stretches long enough that eventually you crack open an eye to see his reaction, but there isn’t one. He’s just sitting there, waiting for you. You wrench your other eye, struggling to get comfortable in the silence. Your fingers twist together in your lap as you wait for him to say something.

“That wasn’t your first kiss, was it?” He says, finally and you can see the gears turning in his mind as he follows his new line of thinking but you shake your head.

“No, I, I’ve been kissed before. It’s just… it’s been a while. I’m a little out of practice.” He nods, contemplating something unspoken before he nods again and looks you straight in the eye.

“Roadie, can I kiss you?”

A/N: Aaaaaaaaa can he?????

[sehtoast]

Satisfy Me (Homelander x Reader PowerSwap!AU)

18+ | 3.4k, stalking, masturbation, mostly mutual masturbation, graphic violence, powerswap au, gender neutral reader | Fic Directory

Ask Prompt: Non supe hl x HL reader. Like the reader has his powers, and he's just a regular guy.

You find him by chance. Could've been any of those little ants down on 36 assigned to your old suit's preservation, but it was him. 

What an ordinary fellow he was, too, running around in those little blue sweaters over his dress shirts, his soft box-dye-blonde hair, those pretty blue eyes behind dark framed glasses. It drove you nuts, but that was the best part. 

John was the best part. 

You fixated on him from the moment you saw how he handled a literal part of you, how he touched your suit with care and grace, expressed how much of an honor it was to be picked to take care of you. 

And you? You were bigger than life itself! The fucking Homelander, for crying out loud. Of course he should be honored to preserve and maintain your old suit; it's you for fuck’s sake. So why was it that his anxious little demeanor was so endearing to you?  What was it that made his promise to keep something of yours in tip-top shape turn him into the center of your attention?

Why did you find yourself lingering on 36 far more often? Going down with the excuse of wanting to see progress on the display, but really just wanting to see him, talk to him, learn about him. 

Your gloved hand on his shoulder makes him nervous. You can hear his heart beat as quickly as a hummingbird’s wings as he glances up at you. His cortisone spikes, but not in the wrong way. You rile him up. 

It's adorable. 

You begin to watch him. You follow him along the route of the subway, trail him from his stop to the school where he picks up his son, then to his apartment. You float up at the same pace that they ascend the stairs until you're lingering outside the window to his bedroom, watching him sleep. 

This becomes your routine, and god help anyone who tries to take you away from it.  

You sneak in a few times when no one’s home. Roam between rooms, investigating every little piece of his life. You borrow a sip or several from the milk in the fridge, peek at the living room, investigate the bathroom. You learn the boy's name is Ryan from the little wooden letters mounted on the wall above his bed. There's not much of note in the kid's room save for action figures, lego sets, and a few stick figure doodles labeled ‘me and dad.’

John's room is where you have your fun. You start at his desk, sifting through papers and soon-to-be-due bills. You wiggle the mouse at his computer and find his desktop background to be a picture of himself and Ryan. You're almost offended that it's not a picture of you and all your star-spangled glory. 

Almost. There's better things to do than care about that. 

There's a closet full of clothes to run your fingers over, a drawer of underwear from which you can pick your new favorite keepsake.  You settle on a pair of dark red briefs, holding them to your nose to inhale deeply, groaning as the scent of him fills your lungs.  You make your way over to the nightstand where you find a drawer with a stroker and lube hidden inside a ball of paper towels.  You smirk and toy with it for a time, tongue jutting out to lave over the inside, hoping and praying that there’s even a drop of him left in there. 

And then there’s his bed, full of his scent.  You lay on it and press your face into his pillow, breathing in several deep, focused breaths.  Underneath a smell that is so uniquely him, you find a hint of something woodsy and herbal.  It tickles your nose sweetly but you focus more on his natural aroma than that of his products. You want to stay more than anything. You’re surrounded by him in every sense of the word. All of your senses are bombarded by parts of him; the only thing missing is the man himself.

You roll on your back, eyes shut as you picture what it would look like to gaze up at him from that angle.  How he’d look leaning above you, sweat on his brow as he drives into you over and over and over again… How he’d pant and gasp, exerting himself just to please you, just to pump you full of his love and devotion.

God, you hadn’t even realized you’d snaked your hand into your pants during the fantasy.  You shut your eyes and continue anyway.

Your mind wanders back to him. You’d touched yourself to the thought of him quite a few times, but doing it in his bed?

Delicious…

You imagine wrapping your legs around him, featherlight lest you crush his pelvis.  You roll him, straddling his waist as you come down hard on his cock.  Beneath you is where he looks best.  Squirming and panting, hips thrusting to meet you in desperate, sloppy motions.  You’d be so good to him, too.  You’d ride his cock until he saw stars, until the only word that could come out of his mouth is your name…  

You’d let him pump you full of however many loads that pitiful, human body of his could muster, until you’re dripping with his come and he’s yours inside and out.

Maybe you’d mark him up, too.  Leave some handprints at his hips, some bite marks where he’s soft… Wouldn’t be hard… Wouldn’t take much to mar that perfect skin with your claim of ownership.  Some hickeys at his inner thighs, maybe an extra special one right where his cock meets his groin.

Your salacious fantasies come to a head at the same time as your pleasure.  You grind against your hand as you picture what it’d be like to milk his cute little cock.  Suck him dry, watch him beg and plead, let him squeeze your head with his legs as if he could possibly make you stop.  You’d eat up every ounce of him and spit it back in his mouth.  Make him go down on you with a mouthful of his own come.

“Oh, fffuck!” You howl, writhing on his bed, fist gripping and pressing his blanket to your nose. Your underwear are soaked, but you couldn’t care less.  Not as you pant heavy breaths, your body blissful and surrounded by him.

You linger for quite a while, only breaking away for your regularly scheduled visit with him. 

You had asked for a lesson about The Federalist Era - not that you really gave a shit beyond getting to consume his time. John was all too excited at your sudden interest and he offered to stay late just for you. Ryan would be with his mother, as was the case for every Friday to Sunday, and he’d have nothing but time for you. 

He meets you in your penthouse with a textbook and it's everything you've got not to devour him whole. He’s so precious.  You keep your gloves off, brushing your fingers over his as you point to parts of the text you ‘didn't get.’ You do everything in your power to keep him red and blushing.  You scoot closer, hover in his space, lean over his shoulder.  You practically eye-fuck him every time you look at him.  You toy with him all night until he finishes his lesson.

He stays for another hour just for the hell of it. Just to spend time with you. It's not until he's yawning that he entertains the idea of heading home. 

“Why don't you let me fly you?” You offer, smirking at how he deeply he flushes. 

“Oh, I mean... I don't- I just-” He stammers. “I’m just a little scared of heights, you know?” 

You scoff a laugh at his confession, taking him by the hand and leading him to your balcony. He doesn't resist you whatsoever. 

“C'mon, Johnny! I won't let anything happen to ya!” You wrap your arms around his waist and begin to hover. You whisper in his ear, “I'll protect you,” and you can feel the way he shivers before nodding.

His arms wrap around your neck, textbook dangling from one hand as he presses himself against you. The higher you rise, the tighter he holds on. 

“Good boy.”  You breathe soft and low, thumb rubbing circles at his lower back.  “I’m a much better ride than the shit they got down there.”

He clings to you the whole way home, only realizing after you've dropped him off that you somehow know where he lives. 

You drive him wild. You stir a feeling in him that he hasn't had time to focus on in so long, and it's to your absolute pleasure that you get to linger and peer through his roof that night as he takes care of himself. 

John fucks his fist with reckless abandon, then his toy that he just can't help but imagine is your hole. You focus extra hard, trying to make your senses pick up on everything happening in that room.  You can smell the salt of his sweat, the pheromones in the air, the scent of his precum.  You hear every little gasp and moan, every groan that rattles out of his pretty little mouth.  The sound of lube squelching in his stroker riles you up so much more, and you’ve half a mind to burst through the fucking wall and mount him.  

You tease yourself in time with him, knelt on the roof so perfectly that no one could catch you.  You gaze through matter with hooded eyes to watch him, and it’s the most beautiful, tempting sight you’ve ever seen in your life.  You can’t remember a time you’ve been so fucking horny as you are right then.

He comes near violently, shouting, “H-Homelander!” as he does. Your eyes roll back and a quivering moan rips from your throat as you come apart with him.  He called your name.

He called your fucking name.

He’s already yours...

He works the next day for some overtime pay. Nothing stressful, just some extra document filing. You're preoccupied with filming away from the tower, much to your heavily expressed ire, and he's bored. 

He's bored for the whole day, wishing you'd come by.  He stays extra late, hoping beyond hope that you’ll meander in like you don’t actively choose to come down to such an insignificant level.  

But you don’t.

He’s thoroughly bummed out as he steps off the train, walking the rest of the way home in the dark.   He knows you didn’t forget about him; you’re just busy.  Even the world’s greatest superhero’s gotta take care of their commitments, right?  He’s deep in thought as he makes his way down the cold street.  The yellow glow of the streetlights sets a somber feeling deep in his heart as he shuffles further along, passing the occasional stranger, hands in his pockets.  He should’ve worn more than a sweater and a scarf.  He had no idea it was gonna be so chilly.  Or maybe he’s just so used to running hot after spending time around you.

God, had he really caught the attention of Homelander?  Like, really caught it?

He’s heard stories– god knows there’s enough to go around.  Was told by more than a few of his coworkers in the archives that it’s dangerous to even be around you.  That there was a good reason that the loneliest spot was always at the top.

He didn’t like that, though.  What he did like, however, was you.  The way you look at him as though he’s worth wanting.  You give him your full attention and fuck, you always come back.  It’s like he matters now.  He’s not just some orphan-turned-moderate-success trying to raise his son and keep from drowning under the oppressive cost of New York’s rent.  Well, he still is, but he’s all of that and he’s got the attention of The Homelander!

And he finds you sweet.  Like a big, scary dog that only likes him.  He wants to know more about you.  As much as he likes history, he’d love yours even more.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he neither sees nor hears the man sprinting up behind him to grab him by the scarf.  John chokes harshly as he’s dragged into an alley, kicking and thrashing to no avail.

He’s thrown on the ground and he wants to get back up, fight for what little good it’d actually do, but there’s a clicking sound directly in front of his face and–

He freezes.  Eyes go wide, skin chills far colder than the air alone could ever turn it.  A pit forms in his gut and oh god he’s fucking helpless.

“Empty yer fuckin’ pockets,” demands the gunman, motioning down with the barrel of the firearm.  He can barely see them as more than fuzzy silhouettes and he realizes that he’s lost his glasses.

He pulls his wallet and phone free shakily, laying them gently on the ground before raising his hands up in surrender.  He watches the man who grabbed him go through his wallet, and he hears a scoff.

“Twenn’y bucks?”  The man slurs exasperatedly.  “Yer life ain’t worth twenn’y, son.  Ah shit… we could sell ya!  I got a guy needs a good piece’a meat to throw ‘round in his dog fights.  Should see the way the mutts fight over fresh food.  Y’look like good bait.”

John blinks rapidly, eyes wide and panicked as each word settles in.  He tries to shuffle backward, but he’s grabbed by the ankle and yanked back.

“Bet he’d go for a few hundred.  He don’t stink.  Not a ton of meat on ‘im, but there’s enough,” the gunman muses.  “Shit, Gordy, we might as well.  Fuckin’ twenty bucks… Ain’t even worth the effort to–”

John hears a sound like fabric flapping, and suddenly everything goes silent.

Silent, until he hears you.

“Howdy ho, boys!”  You greet, though your tone couldn’t be further from inviting.  “Say, what’s got two idiot fucks like yourselves out tonight, eh?”

John pats at the ground, desperate to find his glasses. He needs to see this- needs to see you. His heart pounds in his ears so loudly that he can’t hear what the men say to you, only the sounds of shrill, agonized screaming.  Something warm splats against his cheek and a deep, unsettling feeling in his bones tells him that it’s blood.

“C’mon, boys!  It’s not that bad!”  He hears you chuckle, followed by a flash of red and more howls of pain.  “You guys! It’s not like I’m, oh, I dunno, feeding you to a pack of dogs?”

As he scrambles, he feels the cracked lenses of his glasses and puts them on in time to see just what you’d done.

His assailants kneel on the ground, their arms laying next to them. He swears he sees bones jutting out of their legs.  

You’re elbow deep in one’s chest, smiling sadistically with every crunch and squelch as you rip free a blood drenched length of bone and shreds of muscle.

His stomach should churn at the sight of you shoving the gunman’s body to the ground.  It folds in half without a spine to support it, and it’s objectively the most terrifying thing he’s ever seen. The other man whispers to himself, which must really piss you off.  He sees it in your eyes.  Yet, he’s not scared.  Not of you.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t ya?”  You muse as you stare down at the man.

John can hear him reciting a prayer.

“God? No.”  You kneel down to pat his cheek, staining his skin a deep red.  “No god. The only one in the sky is me.”

He watches you wedge your hands into the man’s mouth, effortlessly ripping his jaw and head apart, splitting him down the length of his neck.

John watches in a mix of awe and horror as you continue tearing all the way down through the chest cavity.  There’s a sick look in your eyes.  Like you’d done this before.  

Like you were comfortable doing this.

So why the fuck wasn’t he afraid when your gaze flickered up to him?  Why did the shakes of his body quell the minute your blood stained hands reached down to loosen the scarf still tight from when he’d been dragged?

You’re drenched in blood.  The pungent liquid soaks you, drips down your collar and into your suit. It’s all over your face, coating your hair, resting thick on your eyelashes.

His hands come to settle at your cheeks, thumbs smoothing through the viscera as he gazes up at you in awe.  Your grip on his arms is featherlight at most, and he’s amazed.

You are a creature of unfathomable violence.  You have ripped and torn through an incalculable amount of flesh, committed sins far greater than even his mind full of historical horrors could imagine, and yet…

You hold him as though you’re afraid to break him.

Even as you gather him in your arms and fly away, you’re so gentle with him.  Considerate and kind, courteous and caring as you bring him home.  Your boots leave bloody prints across the hardwood floor of his bedroom as you walk him to the bathroom.  You’re on autopilot and that nagging voice in your mind berates you for prioritizing some simple mud person over yourself, over the thrill of the kill. 

“Are you hurt?”  You hear him ask, and it leaves you deeply confused.  Are you, The fucking Homelander, hurt?  Are you, indestructible force that you are, in pain?

He forces you to sit on the edge of the bathtub as he scrambles around for supplies.  You’re not sure why you let him move you around.  Hell, you’re not even sure why you let him wash the blood from you.  

Worse yet, you let him strip your upper body bare.

You let him see the truth of your suit and what you lack beneath.  You’ve got the power of a god, certainly, but you’re so regular underneath the facade. But you can’t find it in yourself to care as he wipes you clean with a warm, wet cloth.  Not with the way he holds the back of your head and removes the evidence of just how far your love for him will push you.

At some point your eyes lock and his hands stop moving.  

Time stills, but he does not.  He leans forward and takes you in a kiss so soft that you wonder if it even counts.  Just a peck at first, barely even a graze of his flesh against yours.  When you don’t pull away, he comes back, this time brushing his lips to yours with the slightest bit of pressure.  His lips are soft, his kisses unsure until you finally reciprocate.

Then?

Oh, then he devours you with a need fit to rival your own.  His arm wraps around your upper body and pulls you against him, all while your own hands scramble to grab at him.  Your breaths mingle together, fanning hot and heavy against each other.  He tastes blood on your lips, and you taste the remnants of his afternoon coffee.  The scent of iron mixed with him surrounds you, and god it is the most exquisite aroma. 

His taste, his scent, his touch, his sweet little gasps…

You want it all.

He pulls away once he, fragile human that he is, gets dizzy.  John giggles breathlessly against your mouth, tongue sliding over his lower lip to lap at your lingering taste.  You smile in return, indulging in something you’ve never quite felt before.  His hands still roam, and you’ve a pretty good idea of exactly where this night will end up once he’s got the rest of that pesky blood wiped from you. For now, though, you’re satisfied even if you’re not entirely satiated.

After all, you’ve truly proven yourself to be–

“My hero…”