#now i just gotta settle on what dinner tonight is

[thehardkandy]

WEEKEND! Made it through the week having had breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day AND taking care of parents' dog so that he seems happy too even if I'm a cruel evil human who won't give in to his demands for head scratches during work meetings

[s-4pphics]

a friend in need! (e.w.)

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SYNOPSIS: heartbreak aid during the apocalypse, you ask? 

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: bff!ellie who’s sad, kinda perv oc who’s eager to fix that, remixed version of seattle!ellie, dina catching strays for no reason (i love her pls), wound care but erotic, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS DNI, dubcon (nasty green), porn watching, mutual/guided masturbation, brief poochie eating, oc in denial ab her little crush, real girlhood <3, slight angst :(

A/N: the bubblegum apocalypse where no one dies or lies. #SCISSORING

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The gates of Jackson open, and relief rushes through your chest. 

Everyone is accounted for. Ellie’s accounted for. 

Weeks—or however the fuck long— of pent-up anxiety finally settles in your limbs as you sprint towards Shimmer while Jesse tends to Dina, greeting the hazel mount with coos and rustles through her fur. Baby needs a bath and a good brushing. 

Your eyes swiftly shift from her to your best friend, “Ellie, I’m so glad— “

“Can you help me down, please?” 

Creases bunch in your forehead at the strain in her tone. And then you’re met with the blood-soaked wrap that's enclosed around her jean-covered thigh. 

“Oh, shit… c’mere.” 

Ellie’s good leg swings over the saddle, and you hold her waist to ease her down into the muddy grass. Joel’s the first one to engulf her. They exchange words that you don’t catch before his reluctant arms drop to guide Shimmer back to the stocks, leaving you two alone. You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around her neck next, mindful of her leg. 

“I didn’t know what to think when y’all didn’t come back,” you whisper. 

When the two girls first made their departure to Seattle, the icy remains of winter had just begun to melt into the dirt beneath it, and that alone felt like ages ago. There’s mosquitoes and moths everywhere now, following wherever the sun beams. 

A strong arm wraps around your waist, and you instantly stiffen and detach from her, hands resting on her shoulders. 

Her gaze drops to the ground when you whisper, “What happened, Ellie? You okay?”

She breathes. “Peachy.” 

Your hands drop when she turns in the direction of her home, head jerking when she says, “I’m gonna shower.” 

“Dinners supposed to be really good tonight!” You exclaim with a broken smile when she takes her first hobble, “Eat with me? Consider it a celebration that you made it home safe.” 

Ellie seems to soften at your invitation, head bobbing in approval, and you smile. 

She holds her fist out to you, “See you in 20?” 

You bump your knuckles against hers with strained cheeks, “See you in 20.” 

One small, comforting smile from her, and she’s off, limping back home. 

“What’s up with them?” 

You flinch at the too close whisper from Jesse, and you shrug. “Maybe they broke up.” 

“Doubt it,” He snorts, “Dina told me it was brutal on the way back. The bastards were everywhere, she said. They’re probably still shook up.” 

“Damn… How’s she doing?” 

“Weird as hell. I think she’s sick or something,” Concern is melting off him, “She’s getting checked out now.”

“I’ll check on her later,” You face him, “Coming to dinner?” 

“Probably not. Gotta make sure Dee’s good.” He’s already walking off, trailing after his friend…? Ex? You never know what to call them. 

“See ya.” You wave awkwardly. 

Weird. 

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How do you cheer up a friend that just witnessed three dozen infected tear another small community to shreds? At least, according to Jesse. He was able to get more out of Ellie and Dina than you were, apparently. 

You don’t know how Ellie — or anyone — could experience such barbarous scenes as frequently as they do. You’ve been on patrol twice since you stumbled upon Jackson a few years back, and each venture leaves you less and less eager to see the world beyond its walls. You respect their bravery, not only for being able to dive head first into unknown territory with nothing but bullets and faith, but to also face those walking demons at every corner. 

Your closest friend is often excited to show you scavenged artifacts that she has collected, but… she’s barely spoken to you since you helped her off Shimmer. 

Her silence is uncommon, and therefore, frightening. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve had fish,” you scoff weakly, poking your carrots with your fork, “It’s good, huh?” 

Her focus shifts from the tablecloth to you. 

Silence. 

You drop your utensil, “Fuck, Ellie… dude, what happened out there? Jesse told me… that y'all got caught up— “

“Dina’s pregnant.” 

He didn’t tell you that.

Ellie’s whisper breezes past your ears so fast that you barely catch it. The canteen continues to bustle with hungry, ravaged patrons who returned from their second round of patrol. You assumed Ellie was one of them after her scattered return, but she hasn’t touched anything on her plate. Not even her carrots. Her favorite; A literal goddamn rabbit. 

No wonder she hasn’t eaten… Who could’ve with news like that? Especially considering the high she was riding before the couple left. 

“What.” 

Ellie’s head shakes with gall, and a disappointed grin plumps her cheeks. 

“Yup… Can’t wait to tell Maria.” 

Sharing the news of a new Jackson kiddo sounds like the last thing on her mind. Days before the two took off, she was squealing like a wild hyena in the wee hours of the night, gushing to you about the midnight explorations with her long-term crush. Her retellings of their first night together were vivid: filled with pent up tension and need and unfiltered lust. According to Ellie, they could’ve gotten married in a fortnight with the relationship they’d built over the years, and you believed her. Sadly. 

You were present, observant, during your teenage years. You were there when Cat kissed Ellie, when they broke up, when Ellie had recurring nightmares about Riley and was desperate for comfort from you, when Ellie fell for Dina… 

And now they’re in a pickle. A fat one. 

Hearing about Ellie’s relationship never went how you’d assume. You expected to be happy for your friend whenever she enthused about a topic that brought about such elation, but there was always something about the stories that gave you pause. Something that burned in the pit of your stomach and caused you to, frankly, fake congratulations. You’re unsure why, but hearing about Dina and Ellie’s relationship potentially being tarnished is calming that simmer inside you.

“Just when I thought…” She scoffs quietly. “Whatever. Fuck it.” 

You can’t resist and slip, “… Who’s the daddy?” And she hisses.

“Guess.” 

But you don’t have to... Fuck. 

Dina and Jesse’s relationship was… something. In adolescence, Ellie was either secretly celebrating their multitude of separations or crying to you about them getting back together. Their consistent streak of being on and off clearly got the best of them. There’s a ball of cells growing inside of your friend’s almost-girlfriend. 

“Shit… maybe it was… a misunderstanding? Doesn’t it take a couple weeks to… form in the womb or whatever?” 

You’re not the devil's advocate. Your lips clamp at Ellie’s stern glare.

“There’s no misunderstanding.” 

Your shoulders slump at the distance in her eyes. The indifference she’s exuding can’t disguise the hurt that she’s experiencing internally. Your heart aches for her, despite the excited jitters in your fingers.

“… Sorry, man.” 

“I don’t care.” 

Good, you impulsively want to say. You shove it down into the hardwood beneath your soles. Your brows furrow in annoyance, more so at yourself for not being remorseful. “Fuck off. Yes, you do, and that’s okay. It’s normal.” 

“Can we go?” 

Her request is sudden and cracked, and every inkling of pride deflates in your chest. Poor thing; How could you feel like this when she’s this scattered? Guilt replaces whatever dark fantasy you’ve conjured up in the past five minutes. 

You move to stand without objection. Fuck the carrots, “Yeah. Let’s roll— “

An instant lightbulb above your head… and it’s glowing green. Roll.

Roll!

Mischief shines in your chest and eyes when you glance around the packed space in search for, 

“TOMMY!” 

A flash of brown hair turns to meet your sprinting form. The peach he’s holding looks devine. 

“You seen ‘Gene anywhere?” 

Your grin widens at his disapproving stare.

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“Be careful with those, shit-for-brain! I’m not coming to save your ass like last time!” 

“Got it, boss!” You squeak with a polite smile, shoving the small baggie of rolled joints into your stuffed satchel. It vanishes the second Eugene slams his vault to his dirty ass man cave, “Fucking dicksucker.” You huff.

Ellie snickers from beside you. “C’mon. Be nice.” 

“No. He skimped on me last time. Toke hog.” 

The walk to your place is colder than usual, but it’s beautiful out. The moon shines from behind the dark clouds, illuminating the ivory that shields the incoming spring grass. Gorgeously cinematic; A scenery that gets the heart thumping. Aching. Yearning. 

You lead Ellie onto your porch and into your home. She removes her jacket and kicks off her boots, throwing her armor over the designated rack. Your satchel goes flying across the room until it clatters on your bed. Black tapes spill all over the mattress, and Ellie scolds you disapprovingly. 

“Again? Really?”

You smirk. Eugene’s always too blasted to punish your kleptocracy, “No one has a better porn collection than ‘Ge— “

Her jaw slacks, “Porn?! What the fuck, I thought those were the Jurassic Park— “

“They’re not…” Before pondering, “Although that’d be some crazy role play. RAAAWR— “

“You’re the fucking worst.” 

“C’mon! Look at these titles,” You skip to your bedside to snag a couple tapes, “Smoochie the Coochie… Banging my hot neighbor…” 

A boisterous laugh passes your lips, “Throbbin’ Hood: Prince of Beaves! Tell me that’s not fucking hilarious!” 

Ellie doesn’t laugh. Hasn’t laughed. Just simmers by the front door with red dusting her cheeks. How adorable! 

“Why’re you looking like that?” 

When her eyes travel over the creases between your brows and confused smile, your feet give an awkward stutter. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. At the very least, she should’ve cracked a smile by now. Even an insecure one. 

You peer down at the tapes in your hand and back up at her. Her posture shifted: arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she leaned on the balls of her feet, eyes inspecting the dim lights of your space. 

Another lightbulb. Not a green one. 

“Have you ever watched porn?” 

She shrugs with floundering shoulders. You chuckle. 

“It’s just for shits and giggles, Ellie. Don’t be so serious. The acting sucks and you needa good laugh.” 

You cradle the filled baggie like it holds a sacred orb and waltz towards the VCR. Your screen shifts from bright blue to the tape’s introduction screen. Naked men in speedos… Ellie plops down on the couch behind and mindlessly flicks a lighter. You reach into the baggie and toss her the fattest joint available before working the remote. 

A sigh releases… then another flicker… then a long, drawled out exhale. You grin. 

You, remote in hand, plop down next to her, “Is it good?”

“Better than last time, for sure.” You trade the remote for the joint, arm wrapped around your angled legs as you pull. Hits smooth… er. It still dries your throat. 

“Remind me to thank him.” 

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Two joints down. Two tapes completed. Three wide smiles from Ellie from the bad acting. The night’s a win in your book. 

She lazily lights another joint while you switch out the tapes. You purposely saved the best for last: apparently the only lesbian porno in that bastard’s whole cave. When’s the last time you’ve smoochied a coochie?

More importantly, when’s the last time Ellie has? Recently, you assume; She and Dina were too close to only be going on long walks in the woods. The more you smoke, the more your mind wanders where it shouldn’t. 

… Your friend is a lover. Always has been, despite her efforts of convincing you, herself — everyone — that she’s emotionally indifferent. Craves affection, both verbal and physical, like she’s deprived. She raves to you about her desires on a weekly basis, for fucks sake! Someone hug the poor girl! 

“Feeling better?” You squeak when you plant on the cushion. Ellie nods with a soft grin. 

“Thank you.” 

Your hands clap together and her body shakes from the recoil. “The night’s not over yet! I got a surprise for you! Happy Birthday!” 

“It’s not my birthday… I don’t know my birthday— “

Your smile is laced with grating sarcasm, “Wow, you really know how to kill the vibe! Just play along, goddamn!” 

You sigh when her expression flattens. 

“Ellie…”

“Yes?” 

Oh… That crackly tone did a little something. Cheering Clitorous. Alright. Okay. 

“I found a little something in ‘Gene’s special drawer— “

“Aren’t all his drawers special.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up.” 

Her red eyes widen, but she silences. 

“You know what feels really nice after a bad breakup?” 

Her middle finger digs into her dry eye, “Getting high and watching porn with the only other lesbian you know?” 

“Even better,” Your hand claps down on her jean-clad, uninjured thigh. “Getting high and watching lesbian porn with the only other lesbian you know… while getting head. A true fixer-upper.”

More silence, and your tummy gives a nervous tumble. Eugene’s bud gives you enough courage to make eye contact, and, given any other circumstance, you would’ve hollered laughter at how stunned Ellie looks, eyes nearly stretched beyond her lids, but you don’t. You press on when she denies you. 

“You’re lying.” 

“Am I?” Your thumb presses the large button in the middle and the screen displays two, three — six women… all sprawled out on white carpet while lewdness shines through their eyes… And not at all the romantic wives fingering each other next to the fireplace like you envisioned. Plus, the music sucks. Who the fuck plays the accordion while bumping cooters?

Your eyes circle around and… Oh, wow. A lot less tame than you were expecting… Are those chains and a paddle? 

What the fuck, Eugene. 

“Oh, shit.” 

Ellie’s either impressed or about to go on a judgmental rampage. You gauge her expression curiously. Her lashes keep fluttering like butterfly wings. You nearly coo audibly. She always does that when she’s excited! What a cutie! 

Ellie recites the description at the bottom of the screen, “When six girls go off into the woods for an early 4th of July getaway, conversations take a lustful… and explorative turn. Find out what happens during one late, hot evening after a game of… kiss and blow?” 

You snort, “Are you asking me?” 

“Well, yeah… The fuck is kiss and blow?” 

You shrug, “Find out.”

One click of the remote, and the footage begins… More giggles from Ellie, and something flutters in your chest. You’ll have to watch bad acting with her more often. 

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Six minutes into Smoochie the Coochie, and you still don’t know what kiss and blow is. And you don’t care to find out. 

High pitched moans and pleasured squeals that almost sound phony rings in your hazy skull as you stare up at your best friend from between her covered legs. 

This is the quietest she’s been all night: her eyes are locked on the screen behind you, completely entranced with flushed cheeks by what you assume is the sweatiest, raunchiest… scissoring, is what it’s called? On the screen. Maybe. You’re wired and can’t think straight and Ellie’s hot. 

“Are we really doing this right now?” 

She whispers when you caress her thigh over her pants, and you nod approvingly. Desperately, but she can’t tell. “Up to you.” 

You don’t expect a cold hand to come up and tenderly brush against your cheek. You shudder and nuzzle into it. Sober you would be so embarrassed at how you’re reacting to her affections. You’ve never been the needy one. 

“Can we…” 

You pout and burn with embarrassment, but start to pull back, “Stop?” 

“No, no…” Her eyes meet yours and your body locks. A bit nervous. “I dunno…” 

“Tell me.” 

“Later.” She whispers. 

You stare skeptically as she plays with your earlobe. “I promise I’m good. I want this. I’ll tell you later.” 

A pause before you sigh. “Okay. Up.” You pat her thigh and her hips rise. Her unbuttoned jeans are peeled down her legs, gently over her fresh bandage, and tossed beside you. Your body is miles ahead of your brain; before you realize, your lips smack all over her bruised thighs, peppering over the freshly bandaged scars and faded ones. She squirms where she sits, shaky breaths puffing from her lips. 

Your mouth travels higher, and an encouraging hand lands on the back of your head, massaging your scalp. 

“Tell me what’s happening.” You mumble against her, a blind finger pointing back at the screen. 

“I don’t — So much shit is going on. Like… from all directions.”  

You smile against her thigh, “Someone catch your attention?” 

“I…” 

But no explanation is needed. There’s treads of weakness in her growl. Go figure. 

“Lemme guess… She look like her?” 

If she catches the unwarranted agitation in your tone, she doesn’t mention it. Simply digs her nails into the back of your head. No forceful tugs at your hair, but a warning, and your teeth beam. 

“I dunno what the fuck you’re smiling for, but it’s gonna piss me off soon.”

There's a smidge of threat in her voice, so your kisses travel up. A pleasant distraction, given every small twitch of her legs. 

Not too long before you reach the hem of her underwear, and you trap it between your teeth before releasing it. Her tummy jolts when the fabric hits her skin, and you go heart-eyed. 

“Tell me who you’re looking at.” 

“T-The one that brought all that crazy shit to the party.” 

Of course. Handcuffs, she means. The large, wooden paddle, she means. A slow drag of your tongue advances up her v-line and her body wracks against her will. 

“Crazy in a bad way?” You purr against softness, and she exhales a laugh. “Not in this context, I guess.” 

“You like that kinda stuff?” 

“How the fuck would I know?” 

You snort before your eyes fall, trapped by the small patch of wetness that sticks to her panties. Glues the outline of her lips to the fabric. You’re seconds — inches away from going feral. 

Whatever patience you entered with has withered: and with determined hands, Ellie’s underwear gets yanked, pried down her legs and tossed behind you. Your eyes glisten with excitement when they meet the red pearl that twitches in anticipation, walls that leak when the warmth of your breath brushes over the cup of her. 

Her pussy’s perfect. A stunner, for sure. You and Cat were never close, but you’d hit her up to get Ellie tatted. Not even in a discreet place. It’d be somewhere where everyone — Dina — can see. On your forehead, for fucks sake—

S-Stop staring at me. 

It seemed like the moans behind you became louder. You nearly shove three fingers in Ellie’s mouth as punishment for interrupting the moment, but you choke on a breath. Mumble a slur of you’re cute, can’t help it in an attempt to ease her. 

And just when your tongue unravels over your bottom lip, right when Ellie’s taste is millimeters away, right when her breath hitches and her mouth drops open, the loudest crack, very reminiscent of bullets, rings across your small living room. Scares her, scares you enough to steal the attention from the art between her thighs. 

The sight on the screen is new, even for you. 

It’s not every day you see girls being slung across muscly laps and swatted on the ass with wooden tools with their hands bound behind them while they cry and sob and beg for their masters to hit them harder. You probably would’ve laughed at the theatrics if Ellie wasn’t here, as if you weren't about to go to town on her ten seconds ago. Both your breaths shudder and tremble as raunchy sounds of lips smacking and girls touching themselves and fingering each other split your ears in half. 

Your vision tunnels and shifts when a whimper from Ellie rattles through your chest and down your ribcage. She gasps like you’ve caught her doing something bad, but she doesn’t stop whatever she’s doing. Just blushes madly with her hand shoved between her squeezed legs while her eyes flicker between you and the screen. 

Time seems to whir and the room spins. The pace of your breath increases, slobbery wheezes syncing with Ellie’s when her legs cross over one another. 

Your muscles move you closer, hands planted on either side of her waist, back enlengthening until your eyes are level with hers. Her tongue barely dips to wet her bottom lip, eyes swiftly flickering down to your mouth.

A hand raises right when another crack of a paddle against skin ripples through your speakers, and before Ellie can flinch, your palm caresses her cheek, thumb exploring the divets in her face. Over the healed wounds and fiery specks that hypnotize. You don’t expect her to nuzzle into your touch… 

And you definitely don’t expect her arm to start moving, despite its enclosing. 

Her eyelids bat, and green pierces through your chest. Over your neck, your face, your shoulders as her bicep twitches. When her lips part around a gasp, you choke. 

Lemme see. 

Ellie curses under her breath, kisses your palm, and undoes the twining of her legs. Her fingers are gentle where they rest over her pussy, the bones in her hand flexing as her palm digs into her clit, folds smushed around the muscles of her thumb. 

That’s how you do it?

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, masking a smile as her head shakes. Your heart pinches. 

Show me how. 

Her head falls to the side as her cheeks sizzle. 

You first. 

You shudder, and your brain scolds. This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to smoke, watch porn, eat pussy, and escort her home safely. 

Not the fucking plan.

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Ellie insisted that you restart Smoochie the Coochie before you undress. For ambiance, she’d said when you stood on two feet, watching as she removed her hoodie. For me? She’d whispered against your cheek, in only a tank top, when you finally positioned yourself on the cushion in front of her. Face to face, pussies almost touching, your knees to the ceiling. 

The volume of the footage has been turned down, but the acting… it’s fucking hilarious. You shouldn’t be smiling. You shouldn’t be giggling, but you are. 

Ellie moves loose strands of hair behind her ear, grin matching yours. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Hm.”

Ellie, much to your shock, makes the first move. Again. 

Takes your wrist in her hand, brings your limp one up to her mouth to pepper kisses on your knuckles before pressing in between your open thighs. Your fingers are clumsy and your heart pounds against your ribcage, thighs jerking at the sticky contact of your own juices. Ellie's eyes between your legs like a hawk, leant comfortably against the pillows stacked behind her. 

Her attention encourages you. You balance on the hand that rests on the couch, grinning playfully around the fingers that sink into your mouth and glide on your tongue. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile before reaching for the lighter and last joint. Sticks the end of it between her lips, flicks the lighter twice, and ignites it. 

Every slow exhale of smoke gets rewarded with presses on your clit, your index and middle fingers tickling the sensitive area with learned precision. It pulsates under your fingertips whenever you lock eyes; her eyes are fervent with need, uncontrollably so, and it sends vibrations through your spine. 

Slower, Ellie whispers wetly when your touch becomes rushed. Too eager for her liking. She’s always hated when you rush things. Loathes your impatience. 

The moans from the film pick up again: shaky and cracked and high. They match yours when you apply just enough pressure on the spot right above your clit. Your walls constrict and slick gushes from, and Ellie curses.

When your fingers explore elsewhere, she sits up suddenly, her breath hitting your mouth when she mutters, Keep touching right there, with a tight hand around your wrist, trying to guide you back to the spot that makes your thighs quake.

I’m gonna cum if I do. There’s warning in your gasp.

Ellie puffs again before huffing a smoky breath, the scent infiltrating your senses. Your fingers almost sink inside, Wasn’t that the plan? 

Cum w-with me? 

Your voice is pleading, tone almost identical to when you would incessantly pester and follow Ellie around Jackson when you were younger. 

Ellie, watch a movie with me? 

Ellie, do a puzzle with me? 

Ellie, go on a walk with me?

Ellie! Ellie! Ellie! 

What used to be innocent invitations have swiftly shifted into something darker, and Ellie needs more. A shocked squeak leaves you when her free hand curls around the back of your neck to smash your lips together. Your hazy mind hadn’t registered Ellie’s fiery stares at your bruised lips, her head tilting in the opposite direction of yours, her nose brushing against yours whenever your fingers made a gooey noise. 

Your eyes flutter shut when her tongue sloppily glides over your bottom lip, moans quenchless where they hit Ellie’s tongue. She swallows them down until they jolt in her stomach, and shoves her hand between her thighs once more. 

Her fingers are drenched and so are yours; there’s nasty, slicked noises everywhere. From you, from Ellie, from the television that’s been forgotten by both of you. 

Ellie’s movements become desperate in a matter of seconds, no longer able to keep up the pace of your kiss. Your separated lips connect only by a thin line of saliva as Ellie gasps hit the skin of your cheek. 

Can’t wait to feel you on me. 

Your euphoria begs to peak at Ellie’s promise, your fingers massaging all the spots that send you to the stars at a desperate pace, trying to match Ellie’s. 

Cum with me, she growls like you did, Cum with me, cum with me, fuck —

Your friend’s name is a prayer on your tongue, shrouded in lust and a longing you’ve forced down to non-existence. You both succumb to pleasure in unison, the pulsing between your thighs synched with hers as she whimpers out. 

I wanna tie you up like that. Tie you up? Beat your ass raw and bloody? Whatever she's looking at, you want. You'll take without hassle. Anything for her. After one glance at the screen, 

Cumming for you, oh shit—

You wring out your high until there’s nothing left to give her, legs closing around your wrist at the aching sensitivity. Ellie’s head falls onto the arch of your knees, lathering your skin in spit-filled kisses, her soaked hand slowing between her legs. 

“Lay down.” 

“H-Hm?” 

“Lay down,” you croak. 

And she does, eyes filled with carnality. 

The porno is long forgotten when your head shoves between Ellie’s legs, the tape stuck on the starter screen while her cries of pleasure blend with the same bullshit accordion. 

You tongue her with fever, drink down all of her heartbreak that she endured while she was away from the source, mark yourself all over the terrain of her until she shatters with a cry of your name. Drenches your mouth, your tongue, your chin. Pushes you away with a cautious hand when you don’t stop. Flinches with sensitivity. 

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“Hold still.” 

You swipe the disinfecting wipe over Ellie’s wound, fresh blood leaking into the white cotton. She assembles new bandages where she sits above you, unraveling the sterile fabric for you to wrap her in.

“I’m trying!” She whines, “It still hurts.” 

“Shouldn’t have tried to ride my face— “

She flicks your forehead so hard, it thumps like a drum, and you wince before playfully biting her finger. 

She snickers and allows you to collect the last bits of blood with the last tarnished rag in your first-aid kit, snagging the bandages from her grasp. She holds down the new gauze and does as she’s told, lifting her thigh on your command as you bind her messy stitches. 

Why did you kiss them, though? 

It lasted 0.5 seconds. A quick, gentle smack meant to soothe, but your brain doesn’t see it that way. Red alarms glow in every crevice of your cerebrum, urging you to move away from your best friend. You stare at Ellie and Ellie stares back, expression no longer readable and easy-going, and you flinch away from her. 

Inviting her over for some innocent porn-watching is one thing… but kissing her without motive? Without the need to progress into something more? It stuns you more than her. You think.

“Sor — sorry — “

Ellie’s already palming at your shoulders, “It’s okay… it’s not a big deal— “

And it’s not. Why does her confirmation bloom a new ache in your chest? 

Your knees pop when you hurriedly stand, and Ellie follows, hands sliding down your arms to grab your hands. 

“Hey…”

You meet her eyes. 

“We’re good… okay? It’s nothing serious.” 

Don’t cry. You agree with a grin. One you pray she doesn’t notice cracks in its corners. She says nothing. Just caresses your cheek in unsaid thanks. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for the distraction. 

Ellie returns a smile before gathering her clothes off the floor. She dresses in silence as you watch with a sorrowful gleam. Is it selfish to ask her to stay? Would it be too much? Should you? Will you?

It’s when she’s tying her boots up that you say something. 

“I can walk you back!” 

“I got it. I’m not going straight home.” 

Ellie’s denial is calm. Gentle. Not abrasive in the slightest, but your hands quiver and heart swells, bound to burst with dejection. Where is she going? The town is sleeping. 

She leaves before you can ask with a promise of seeing you in the morning for breakfast. Nothing unfamiliar, nothing changed. 

Tears rock you to sleep, and you’re not sure why. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

[norizz-nation]

Hiii can you please do Charles leclerc x innocent reader and they have been best friends since childhood and he’s so soft for her and protective and like daddy and baby girl relationship please 🙏

Sure girl, hope you enjoy 😮‍💨

Just with me ❤️

Summary: you always saw your childhood best friend charles dating so many girls but you were there with no boyfriends so you decided to go on a date with a guy you met on tinder which charles definitely hated

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, daddy kink, size kink, innocence kink, praise kink

Although you and charles were friends since you guys were kids but nowadays you feel like he isn’t the kid you were friends with anymore. He’s a man now. A grown man. A man who always goes out with girls. He’s never single. But at the same time he made you feel like you’re someone special. Someone he can always trust, he can always share a laugh with, someone who he needs to protect at all cost. He always made you feel so safe. But no matter what, he was dating others that made you feel jealous but he knew that you would never date anyone since all your life the only guy you know is charles. But surprise, you downloaded an app called tinder where you started to talk to this guy and tonight was a date night with him.

You got all dressed up and left for your date. After arriving at the restaurant you scanned the whole place to find the guy you met on tinder. After a while you saw a hand raise signaling you thats him. You then settled yourself down and smiled at him. God, this is so awkward. You guys had dinner and talked a little but it wasn’t that much of a nice date. Honestly you dont even know why you’re here. Maybe competing charles in this was a stupid idea. “Hey um.. i had fun but i guess i gotta go now. I’ve got some stuffs that needs to be done” you said as you grabbed your purse and got up and you felt a hand grabbing your wrist harshly as you turned around to face him. God. He was not looking safe. You got so scared and tried to pull away but he grabbed your wrist hard and pulled you closer to him. You tried your best to pull away. “Let m-me go!” You said sounding frustrated. “You’re not gonna leave until we do something fun. We’ve met on tinder for a reason my love.” He said calmly as you started to scared.

You were a virgin. Although you’re charles’ age yet you never had sex with anyone. Your mind started to wander as you were hoping to see charles somewhere at the restaurant and thank god. Miracle happened, you saw charles from a distance and caught his eyes. At first he waved and smiled at you but his smiled slowly disappeared as he saw you with another guy. Someone he definitely doesn’t know. Someone who looks really unsafe and psychotic. Charles’ expression was a concerned one as he came to your table. “Whats going on here y/n? Who’s this guy?” Charles asked as he pointed a finger at him. You were so caught up in that situation that you weren’t able to answer his question. “Y/n?” He called out and you flinched and looked at him. “Im her boyfriend” that guy from tinder said as charles turned around to look at him and then looked at you. “Boyfriend?” Charles asked, looking at you as his brows furrowed. “Where did you even meet him?” He asked you. “On tinder” you said sounding embarrassed. Charles then scoffed as if it was just silly to him that you went on a date with someone from tinder. “But charles he’s not my boyfriend!” you explained and he just nodded and smiled. “He was kinda forcing me to sleep with him” you said, your words were like little whispers. Charles’ smile faded as he looked at you, his eyes so serious, his stare burning you. His jaw clenched when he say you so uncomfortable in front of that guy.

It felt like a movie when you saw charles punch that guy out of nowhere. Everything just happened so fast. “What the fuck man?!” that guy shouted as everyone looked at our way, gasping. “Charles! Stop please!” You screamed at him as you tried to pull his away from that guy whose nose was bleeding right now. “Apologize to her, right fucking now! If i see you near her again I’ll fucking kill you. I fucking swear you’re gonna be fucking dead.” Charles said as he grabbed his collar. That guy then got up and immediately apologized to you and left murmuring some “total asshole” or something.

Charles then turned to see you looking up at him. He then went closer and hugged you tightly and kissed your head, brushing his fingers through your hair. You let out a long sigh as your grip around him tightened. “Its okay y/n, im here now. You’re always safe with me, i promise” he said as he looked down at you smiling softly as you smiled back at him.

After reaching home, your home, you laid on your back in your bed as you groaned because you were tired as charles took his shoes off. You turned your head to look at him. “Shouldn’t you be with your i dont know 8th girlfriend of this month right now? Why are you here?” You asked. His face was really pissed for some reason, and you didn’t know why. He came closer to you so he was standing right in front of you as you looked up at him. God, you always loved him so much. He’s so beautiful. His thumb brushed your chin as your mouth started to part a bit. “Its so cute how you think you can date others just because i always date others. Well good news for you. Your trick worked. You did make me jealous” he said as he leaned down to whisper in your ear “but i know you’re always waiting for me. I know you’re still a virgin only for me and its so cute” his words made your heart beat faster as you looked at him, his smirking face making you more needy for him.

“But you’re always busy dating others. Im tired of waiting for you charles” you said as you sighed. Charles just giggled at you “you’re so innocent baby. you do know that right?” he said as he brushed your hair away from your face. “I always loved you, i just wanted to see how you would react to it. And it’s so cute that you wanted to make me all jealous for you” his face was just an inch away from yours. You parted your lips but he just smirked and pulled away giving a soft kiss on your nose. You then whined out as Charles sat on the edge of your bed and rested his upper body’s weight in his palm. “Get up baby girl” he said as you got confused. You got up standing in front of him as you looked down at him. “Take all your clothes off baby girl, nice and slow. I wanna see what I’ve been missing all this time” he said as you softly smiled at you. Your cheeks grew red as you unbuttoned your top and pulled your skirt down along with your panties and unhooked your bra. You then bend over to take off your heels but charles interrupted you as he got up and towered in front of you. Although you were wearing heels yet charles was like a giant in front of your figure. “Keep those heels on, you look so hot like that, so pretty. All for me baby girl?” He asked as you nodded. He then cupped your face and made you look up at him “you gotta speak with that pretty little mouth of yours baby girl”

“Im all yours charles” you said he smiled but his smile disappeared after few seconds. You were feeling so needy just by the fact that you were naked while charles was still fully clothed. You were wearing nothing but your black heels. “Charles? Baby girl i dont think you’re that innocent that you dont know what to call me” he said as he brushed your cheek with his thumb. “Im all y-yours daddy” you said softly as you looked up at him. His smile grew as he kissed your lips softly “that’s my good baby girl” he said.

You dont know how much but you were literally squirming for him right now. Your legs on his shoulder as he kept teasing you by rubbing your clit with the tip of his dick. The wet sounds it made was making you more whiny and needy for him. “Please daddy j-just fuck m-me please” you begged. “Are you sure you can take it baby girl? Can your pretty little pussy take it like a good girl?” God his words made you so over the edge right now. “I-i can, please d-daddy” you whined out as charles pushed his dick inside of you. Your jaw dropped as your head fell back and your grip on his forearm getting tighter. “Fuuuck you feel so good baby girl, so fuckin good” charles groaned as he fucked you in a slow pace, letting you adjust first.

“Daddy i-its so f-fucking b-big oh my god!” You screamed those words as charles’ pace got faster. His hips slapping your ass as he thrusted harder inside of you. “You’re so perfect baby girl, so beautiful fuck” he said breathlessly as he groaned more. His groans made you come closer to your orgasm as you felt your legs starting to shake, forehead sweating as you bit on your lip to adjust to the staggering amount of pleasure he was giving you. You couldn’t even tell him before cumming, you were so caught up in your orgasm that you forgot to tell him that you’re gonna cum. You then let out a loud groan as charles stopped his pace and stayed in that position for a while.

You then got up and sat on your legs as you looked up at charles and he knew what you were thinking. He jerked off as you sticked your tongue out. His groans were getting louder and you looked at him straight in the eye as he came on your face, some landing in your mouth and some all over your face. You then smiled at him innocently as charles brushed your hair off your face as he looked at you with a soft look on his face “you’re so beautiful when you’re just with me and no one else baby girl” he said as your smile grew bigger.

A/N: requests are open! feel free to ask what you want me to write! luv you ❤️

[wheeboo]

big spoon, little spoon | boo seungkwan

SYNOPSIS. in which ask your boyfriend if he wants to be big spoon or little spoon. PAIRING. boo seungkwan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing (in the dark lmao), one curse word, terms of endearment, just boo being rlly affectionate :< WORD COUNT. 1.2k

requested from anon: congrats on 2k lovely!!! ❤️❤️❤️ for ur event may i please req seungkwan + #6 list one? thank u ahhhhh and congrats again - #6: "I don't think I have ever felt safer than in your arms."

notes: thank u my love !! i hope u enjoy <3 i had too much fun writing this pls 😭😭

join the 2k celebration!

"Okay, so big spoon or little spoon tonight?"

Seungkwan just freezes from where he stood in the bathroom doorway, toothbrush still dangling at his lips with bits of foam at the corners of his mouth. You're literally staring at him like you're waiting for him to answer and that it wasn't actually a rhetorical question.

"Are you asking me𑁋okay, wait." He marches back into the bathroom to hastily spit and rinse out his mouth, before coming back out with determination in his step. "Are you asking me if I want to be big spoon or little spoon?"

There's a playful lift to your lips as you sit down on the edge of his bed, and Seungkwan can very much see that slight mischievous look to your features. He can already feel the heat of the moment shoot up towards his ears, and he prays that the room is dark enough to hide it.

"Yeah, I am. Since, you know, we always sorta switch around every day," You say, nodding with a teasing grin. "And, well... I'm being considerate, as your partner and all. I gotta know all your preferences..."

God, Seungkwan feels like he's sinking into quicksand at his feet. Are you really at his place every day? He hardly ever thought about how often you were here, like how these nightly rituals had practically become routine now. He swears his heart does a little happy flip-flop at the thought.

It all started with movie night dates that bled into you two eating breakfast together, dinner dates that turned into you helping wash dishes at three in the morning, and then that particular comfortable silence that settled completely at this point. Every day, there always seems to be another reason for you to stay a little longer, another excuse to linger until the streetlights cast an orange glow through his curtains.

And Seungkwan knows he won't ever get tired of it𑁋he won't ever get tired of having you around. Not now. Not anytime soon. Not ever.

He runs a hand through his hair, feeling whatever embarrassment he had in his chest start to dissipate and replaced by a rush of warmth.

"Okay, well, as your very considerate and caring boyfriend..." He crosses his arms together. "what do you prefer?"

You purse your lips together, as if deep in thought. You didn't mind being either little or big spoon, but the thought of Seungkwan having his arms around you right now𑁋if you could describe it𑁋felt like being wrapped by a warm cloud, a feeling of pure, weightless security that chases away all possible worries.

But it isn't just about the comfort, although it's certainly a big part of it. It was the feeling of being safe and cherished, completely enveloped in his embrace. It was the feeling of home.

A slow smile graces across your face.

"I'll take little spoon," You answer gleefully, already crawling more onto his bed and tucking yourself under the covers with a little wiggle. Whatever façade Seungkwan had been putting up crumbles completely at the sight. A blush creeps up his neck, barely visible in the dim light, but his smile widens.

He chuckles softly as he joins you on the bed, slipping under the covers beside you. After flicking the lampshade off, he carefully maneuvers himself right beside you until he feels your warmth hit his skin. Then he slowly circles his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to his body, with your back meeting his chest. A low, contented hum leaves his lips as he simply holds you.

You wriggle in slightly, and he adjusts his hold, letting an arm curve over your stomach and the other one under your body to pull you even closer, fingers momentarily brushing against the hem of your shirt. You feel your legs entangle together under the blanket, and you swear the world gets smaller, quieter.

Seungkwan thinks you fit perfectly in his arms; it's like you've always belonged there.

"Comfortable?" he asks, voice muffled against you.

Your chest rises up and down with a soft sigh. "Mhm..."

The moments that pass are purely silence as he continues to hold you. You could probably fall asleep at this second, yet you feel the way Seungkwan's hand drifts lower from your waist, tracing gentle circles on the fabric of your shirt above your stomach. It's light, just barely there, but it sends a shiver down your spine nonetheless.

And then you feel him moving around behind you, breath tickling your skin, before his lips press a brief, tender kiss to the nape of your neck.

Maybe you can sense the small smile to his face right afterwards, too.

"You're so soft," he mutters, but there's a bit of tentativeness to his tone.

Your heart squeezes tightly in your chest. "I𑁋Aren't we supposed to be trying to sleep?"

"Sorry," Seungkwan apologises, but you can still hear the smile in his voice. He presses another gentle kiss to your neck, then draws back, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. "Just like holding you like this."

The giggle that leaves you is shaky, nervous, as if there's a small, timid butterfly trapped in your ribcage struggling to take flight. He can probably hear the way your heart is pounding like a damn drum right now, but he doesn't comment on it. Thank goodness.

A thought crosses your mind, and it takes you a minute to cave into flipping yourself over to face him. A groan escapes him from the sudden change in position, but he quickly settles. The two of you can't really see each other that well since the room was basically suspended in darkness, but you can clearly feel his presence beside you, all comforting and familiar.

"I like being held by you too," You confess quietly, each syllable laced with your own hesitancy. "I... I don't think I have ever felt safer than in your arms, to be honest."

The sound of Seungkwan's breath hitching echoes throughout the room. Are the walls closing in? He's not hallucinating or imagining any of this, right? He wishes he could pinch himself, but he's busy holding you, and you're the only thought filling his mind right now.

He leans in closer, ever so slowly. He can see the faint outline of your face thanks to the sliver of moonlight cutting through the curtains.

But just as his lips are about to meet yours, you feel a sudden contact at the tip of your nose. You flinch a little, scrunching your nose up for a second, and Seungkwan pulls back immediately with a gasp.

"Oh my go𑁋did I just𑁋" He stammers frantically, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, uh..."

"Baby," You call out affirmingly, aimlessly bringing a hand up to cup his face through the darkness. Then you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, or specifically... the corner of his mouth. Close enough, anyway. "There we go."

Seungkwan just blinks, eyelashes batting furiously as he feels you shrink back into his hold. This time, you place your head at the crook of his neck, breathing fanning against his skin and making him shiver in your hold, even though he's supposed to be the big spoon.

"Let's go to sleep," You murmur lowly, and if he wasn't used to how pretty your voice sounds when you're tired by now, he should really get his shit together.

And so, Seungkwan just secures his hold around you, but not before mouthing a set of three words that he knows you can't see in the darkness, but hopes you can feel in his embrace.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @tanya596carat @starshuas @etherealyoungk

[melon-fodder]

HONEY, DON'T FEED ME • T. Hiragi

Summary: The last thing Hiragi wants to do when on the cusp of a rut is watch over his boss' bratty daughter (who he happens to find very attractive). Too bad for him.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: guard dog!Hiragi, human!reader, fem-bodied reader, reader wears a dress and lip gloss, some a/b/o traits (ruts, pheromones, knotting), p in v, rough sex, reader is a bit of a brat, rich girl!reader, attempted assault, crying, mentions of breeding, biting, lil bit of blood, fingering, squirting, p in v, knotting, slight cumflation, Hiragi just goes kinda feral in this

Note: title is from It Will Come Back by Hozier. A big thank you to @lady-lauren for reading this and demanding more despite barely knowing Hiragi. I love you, bb. This is for @goxjo’s into the omegaverse collab. Make sure to check out the whole masterlist!

Hiragi rubs his temples, reminding himself to take even breaths. His irritation grows with each passing second, a growl taking form in his throat until he finally barks out, “hurry up or we’ll be late!” 

He can hear movement from the other room, heeled footsteps, the opening and closing of containers. Just as he’s about to march into your bedroom and drag you from your little vanity, you decide to emerge. 

“Calm down, I’m ready, geez.”

You bat your eyes at Hiragi as you pass him, an amused smile playing at your shiny lips, and Hiragi has to bite his tongue to keep from calling you a fucking brat. 

He has to fight that impulse every day, actually. Because you are a brat. A spoiled, privileged, doe-eyed little—

“What are you just standing there for?” you question with a little too much sass. “You’re the one worried we’re gonna be late. Come on.”

Hiragi is just standing there because he’s trying to gather himself. You may be one of his biggest stressors in life, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t affected by you in other ways, especially on days like these when he could fall into a rut at any given moment. It’s a little past due, if he’s being honest—the general weight on his shoulders has done a good job of keeping it at bay—but Hiragi has noticed that his patience has been thinner than usual the last few days. His senses are heightened, able to pick up on the most subtle scents as his dark ears twitch at every little sound. 

Not to mention the persistent dull ache in his balls that he just cannot get rid of. 

After this function tonight, once you're back home safe, he’s gonna have to find someone to take this out on, someone he can trust enough to ride it out with him. 

Now isn’t the time to think about it, though. It’s unwise to let his mind wander to sex when you’re so close to him, looking much sweeter than you actually are in your little dress and strappy wedges, perfume and pheromones wafting off of your neck and making Hiragi’s mouth water. 

Fuck. 

All he’s gotta do is deliver you to your father’s dinner, stand watch for a couple hours, and bring you back home. Nothing more, nothing less. He only has to be around you for that completely reasonable amount of time. 

Still, Hiragi feels dread settle in the pit of his stomach as he walks with you outside. He goes for one of his boss’ nice cars, keys in hand, but you catch him by his jacket sleeve and tug him in the opposite direction. 

“Let’s take your motorcycle!”

“No,” he shuts you down without hesitation. Your father has never explicitly told Hiragi that you aren’t allowed on his bike, but he has told him that Hiragi is to keep you out of harm’s way. It’s sort of his entire job. Having you up against him with a machine rumbling between his legs seems like a very unsafe thing to do. 

You pout up at him, cross your arms and whine, “you never let me ride with you!”

“Yeah, ‘cause your dad would fuckin’ skin me.”

“He doesn’t have to know. We’ll leave before he leaves. He won’t even see it in the driveway.”

He’d probably hear it, though. 

It isn't actually his employment that Hiragi is worried about. That’s not why he wants to keep you off his bike. The real issue would be having you touching him for the duration of the ride—your arms locked around his torso, your tits heavy and warm against his leather-clad back. There’s no way he’d be able to make the drive without getting hard on the way. 

“Please, Ragi?” you ask again, blinking up at him like a neglected puppy as you push your bottom lip out. 

Unfortunately, it works, your expression triggering that protective nature inside of him. As maddening as it is, there is a part of Hiragi that’s loyal to you—your father as well, but especially you. 

Why else would he put up with you? 

“Fine,” he grits out, pulling his other set of keys out. 

You grin at him all giddy as two words fall from your glossy lips—a phrase he both loves and hates because of what it does to him. 

“Good boy.”

His temper flares at the same time that his cock twitches, and he grumbles incoherently the whole time he adjusts your helmet. 

“Little brat.”

“You love me,” you retort, voice muffled by the visor Hiragi purposely pulls down over your aggravating, beautiful face. 

As expected, the drive is tortuous. Your hands splay out on his chest, fingers clutching his shirt at every turn. He can feel the spread of your thighs behind him, and if he could shut his eyes to get rid of the mental image he would, but he can’t because he’s driving. 

You’re hot pressed against him, or maybe it’s his blood boiling him from the inside out. All he knows is that if you were to move your hands lower on his abdomen, he’d combust. If you were to just slowly palm him through his pants…

Hiragi growls in frustration, accelerating a little too fast and making you squeeze him tighter. Fuck the speed limit; the faster he can get you to your destination, the faster he can get away from you. 

The neighborhood that your father’s associate lives in is very nice—a neighborhood that Hiragi would have no business in were it not for you. He's finally able to take a full breath when he pulls to a stop and cuts the engine, but his heart stutters again when you spring off the bike. 

Hiragi would be lying if he said he didn’t immediately miss the weight against his back, but it’s best that you don’t touch him. Still, now he has to wrestle with the sight of you as you pull your helmet off and smooth your hair back into place. 

Your thighs are on full display, and your tits are literally wrapped in a bow, cleavage teasing him from behind the ribbon of your dress. You’re like a little doll. So pretty. Probably fun to play with despite your pull string that makes you say all kinds of annoying things like, “what the hell are you looking at?”

“Hah?”

“Stop staring,” you laugh as you hand him your helmet. “You’re gonna get dog drool all over your bike.”

“I’m not starin’, and I’m definitely not droolin’!”

Your glossy lips twist into a knowing smirk, and you step closer to him. Way too close. He could pull you onto his knee if he really wanted to which… he does not. 

“You don’t have to lie, I know I look nice tonight,” you tell him. 

Oddly enough, it doesn’t sound cocky. There’s even a glimmer of sorrow in your eyes as you absentmindedly poke the spikes of Hiragi’s collar. It makes him shiver, makes him reach up and catch your hand because if you don’t quit it, he’s either gonna bite a finger off or cum in his pants. Not sure which. 

You squeeze his hand before letting it drop, mumbling, “Father told me to dress up. Look my best. So I put on my cutest bartering chip dress.” Stepping back, you do a little twirl for him and plaster on what he now knows is a fake smile. “So you like it, yeah?”

“I liked it more when I thought you put it on for yourself,” he admits gruffly, never able to control his mouth on nights like this. 

It makes sense now why you’re supposed to be here. Your father wants to make a show of his pretty daughter, a strategy Hiragi has seen a couple times before. It had irritated him then too, but what he’s feeling now is different from irritation. There’s a sickness swirling in the pit of his stomach at the idea of his boss offering you up like some kind of business deal that needs to be signed. 

“Well, hopefully this guy’s son thinks I put it on for him,” you say, and as you start to walk toward the large house you whisper to yourself, “hopefully he doesn’t make me take it off.”

It wasn’t meant for him to hear, but you should know by now that Hiragi will pick up most things. You’re always teasing him about how sensitive his ears are, so you really shouldn’t be surprised when he tells you, “I’ll tear the fucker limb from limb if he touches you, got it?”

You blink your wide eyes at him a couple times before dissolving into a fit of giggles. 

“Oh my god, Ragi, don’t be so dramatic!”

And, just like that, your spoiled brat mask is back in place. 

Walking to the entrance, Hiragi smells the other hybrid before he sees her. The front door swings open to reveal what he assumes to be the family dog, just another one of his kind doing what they all do best: protect territory. 

She’s tall—not as tall as he is, but she's got several inches on you. Black ears are tipped with white, moving like satellites to catch every sound of your approach. She eyes both of you up and down, but afterward her gaze rests on Hiragi. 

“You didn’t have to bring your guard dog, little miss,” she sneers, an ugly sound that she punctuates with a wink in his direction. 

“I go where she goes,” Hiragi grunts. Already, the other hybrid is putting out signals, putting out scents. Worse, she’s picking up his. She can smell his wariness, his possessiveness, and by the gleam in her eyes, his impending rut. 

“You sure it’s a good idea for you to be in there?” the hybrid asks, holding up a hand of manicured claws to keep him from passing over the threshold behind you. It puts the stranger in a very precarious position.

“You sure it’s a good idea for you to get between me an’ her?” he warns, the hair on the back of his neck rising as she crosses her arms and smirks. It straightens her back, pushing her tits up, and Hiragi picks up on a new aroma, a new interest. The female hybrid seems aroused by his dedication, taking it as a challenge she intends to win. 

Maybe she will. She’s not unattractive. After this dinner Hiragi could just drop you off and come right back, ride out his rut with this stranger. She's obviously interested, so why not? 

“Hiragi,” your voice rings out, and when he glances back to you, he finds your hand outstretched, finger beckoning. “Come.”

That’s why not. 

He nearly shudders at the command, spares the other hybrid a threatening look—don’t try to stop me—then brushes past her to join you inside. 

If he were a smarter creature, he would spend the dinner posted outside flirting with the female while keeping an ear out for any danger 

But, he’s not, so instead he spends the dinner leaning against a wall, eyes flicking between you and the young man you’ve been seated next to. Apparently, he’s next to take over his father’s business, so it’s “imperative” that he’s here. Your presence isn’t so obvious—at least not to the hosts. You’re here to entertain and seduce, to wrap this boy around your finger so that he’ll convince his father to take the deal. 

It’s nauseating. Hiragi watches the way you grin playfully, cover your mouth to keep from giggling loudly or inappropriately. You’re delicate and sweet, docile yet tempting—a glimpse at a perfect little wife. 

Hiragi hates it. As much as you annoy him, he’d take your smart mouth and bad attitude over this any day. It may be another costume that you wear, but it’s more genuine than this little show. It’s definitely less filtered. 

A hand dips under the table and out of Hiragi’s eyesight. He sees your body tense, smile fading into something tight as a wave of dread rolls off of you and straight into Hiragi. The smell is pungent, mixing with fear and anger and causing his upper lip to curl. 

“I know you aren’t baring your teeth at my young master,” the female hybrid says beside him. He hadn’t even noticed her arrival, too distracted by your scent. 

“I’ll do more than bare my teeth if he doesn’t get his fuckin’ hand off her.”

“So touchy,” she purrs, moving close enough to brush against him, “they’ll be fine. There’s no need to worry.”

He takes a step away from her, overloaded with the onslaught of aromas—your panic, the kid’s desire, the hybrid’s deceit. She’s trying to distract him, to keep him from watching too closely. It’s not going to work. Hiragi only has eyes for you now. 

And then yours land on his. He sees a plea within them, somehow silent and screaming at the same time. Get me out of here, please. Your brow is pinched, your lip is trembling, and your chest is rising and falling too fast, each breath like thunder in Hiragi’s ears. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you apologize meekly, slowly standing from the table on shaky legs, “I’m afraid I don’t feel so well.”

You smooth your dress out quickly—so quickly that no one else seems to catch how rumpled it’s gotten, how high it had been pushed up, but Hiragi notices. 

Saliva pools in his mouth but not because of you or the sight of your thighs he so desperately wants wrapped around his head. No, it’s the kind of spit that drips from his teeth, that foams and spills and warns people: rabid dog, do not approach. 

Hiragi takes a step only to be stopped by the female hybrid. His eyes are still locked on his target and its pulsing jugular—its face twisted into a petulant frown, like a child who just got his toy taken away. 

“Don’t you dare,” the female hisses, placing a hand on his chest. Hiragi nearly shoves her away. The only reason he doesn’t is because of you passing him, gripping the leather of his jacket and tugging him along behind you. 

Nobody tries to stop the two of you from leaving. In fact, the two older men remain lost in their own conversation, completely oblivious to the massacre that nearly took place right in front of them. 

You don’t say anything until you’re standing next to Hiragi’s motorcycle under the dark, evening sky. 

“Fucking entitled asshole—thinks I’m on the table right next to the money. Who does that? Who just—”

There are tears shimmering in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, and Hiragi doesn’t think before wiping them away with his thumb. He can smell the salt and disappointment and resentment, considers tasting it but now is not the time. He’s furious, ready to crack skulls and teeth and anything else. There’s so much blood pumping through his veins, hot and hungry for violence—for anything. 

“I should fucking kill him,” he says more to himself than to you. 

“Don’t bother. He didn’t get far. Barely made it into my panties before I—”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him!”

He turns back to the house, about to take off at a god damn sprint, but goes rigid when he feels your arms wrap around him from behind. 

“Don’t,” you mumble, “just take me home. Please?” Hiragi sucks in a breath, diaphragm spasming when your hands grip the fabric over his abs. “Just let me forget about it.”

This shouldn’t be arousing. You were just assaulted, for fuck’s sake. But Hiragi has been riled up for days now, and you’ve just gone and coiled yourself around him, so vulnerable. So needy. 

His heart is beating too fast, pumping blood to too many places at once. It pounds in his head, courses through his veins like magma, travels down until his cock starts twitching, and Hiragi just groans. 

“We gotta get you home.” It’s right there bubbling beneath his skin, that primal need he can’t suppress no matter how hard he tries. Hiragi peels your arms off of him and grabs your helmet, unable to look at you–your glistening eyes and pouty lips–as he pulls it over your head. The street lights blur on the drive home, each one passing quicker than the last. He should slow down. He should stop taking the curves so fast. But he can barely focus on what’s in front of him when you’re right there behind him. The domesticated part of him is slipping away, and he can’t do anything to stop it. A particularly sharp turn has you squealing behind him, morphing into a high pitched laugh that Hiragi can hear over the roar of the engine. You squeeze him tighter, the heat of your palms going straight to his cock. What he wouldn’t do for a little friction, to be able to rut into something. He’s losing his mind. If he isn’t careful, he’s gonna– “Get off,” he barks as soon as he pulls into the driveway. “What?” “Get off, and get inside,” he commands through his teeth. “Hiragi, what…” you sound a little breathless as you kick a leg over the bike to stand. If he had been watching, maybe he would have gotten a glimpse of your panties, the ones that bastard tried to push aside to get to… He can’t think about it right now. He can’t fall into another fit of rage, and definitely can’t think about anyone touching you. “You’re not gonna go back there, are you?” you ask once you take your helmet off. “I’m fine, I promise! The ride helped. It was actually really fun!” “It’s not that,” he tries, hiding behind the visor of his own helmet, “I just need to… Look, I’m having a bad night.” “Oh,” you tilt your head to the side, “can I help at all?” “No!” You jump at his voice, and he immediately feels bad. “Sorry. It’s not you. I just… need to cool down.” “Do you need some water or something?” God dammit, he needs to leave. He can’t just sit here with this bike rumbling between his legs. He can’t just sit here and stare at you. “It won’t help. I’m…” he pauses, trying to come up with the right words to make you understand that there’s nothing you can do. Nothing you could do without getting hurt. “It’s a hybrid thing.” You blink at him, don’t say a word, just nod and let your eyes wander down his body until they land right where he doesn’t want them. A multitude of swear words clog his mind because you were not supposed to get that. You were not supposed to catch on so quickly. You’re not supposed to be clever, god dammit, you’re supposed to be his boss’ ditzy, bratty daughter. “I see,” you smirk, and Hiragi is helpless as you step closer, slowly reaching for his chin to loosen his helmet straps. “Stop,” he warns, “don’t touch me right now.” The way you push out your bottom lip is so overdramatic, plush and inviting and in clear view once you slide the reinforced plastic over his head. “Why not?” you question, eyes wide with faux innocence. Even teasing, your voice sounds so much more enticing than that hybrid’s. “You don’t want me to?” You trace the skin of his neck just below his leather collar, and Hiragi stifles a groan. He’s burning up, sweat trickling down his spine already.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, and if you keep it up, I will.”

Your eyes light up. There may as well be fucking hearts dancing in them. Hooking a finger into ring of the collar, you tug.

“You don’t know a thing about me if you think that’s gonna scare me.”

Hiragi cuts the engine, steadies the bike, and gets off of it all in one fluid motion. He’s in your space before you can even calculate a threat, hands gripping your biceps as he backs you up toward the huge house behind you.

“Bratty little princess askin’ for shit she doesn’t know a thing about.”

“I know about it,” you challenge, letting him guide you to the front door where he types in the key code. “I know about ruts and… what you’ve got down there.”

He chuckles, kicking the door behind him and pulling you flush against him. You made your decision outside, and there’s no changing your mind now. Doesn’t matter if you get scared or get hurt; he’s not letting you go.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Hiragi spins you around to press his hips forward, grinding his clothed cock against your ass. “You feel it?”

A sweet little gasp parts your lips, and Hiragi quickly closes a hand around your throat to catch the next one that falls when he slides his other hand up the skirt of your dress.

“Not the same as a human cock, you know that?”

You nod in his grip, trying to shove a clumsy hand between your bodies to feel him.

“I know. Still want it.” Your words are strained from the fingers clasped around your neck, a muffled moan vibrating in his hold when he licks the shell of your ear. He could cum in his pants right now, and it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t be enough. Not enough relief and not enough of you.

“Want what, princess? Gotta hear you say it.”

Actually, he doesn’t. Whether or not you want it now is a moot point. He’s too far gone for any protests, so hopefully your body will be able to take what he’s about to give. 

A smile splits your face, head turning so that your lips are a hair’s width away from his. You’re quiet but confident when you whisper, “Your knot. I want your knot, Ragi. Want you to stretch me on it and–”

He loses it, hand around your neck tightening to hold you in place while he crushes his mouth against yours. The fingers at your thigh dig into supple flesh, nails tearing your skin just like his teeth tear at your lips. He tastes iron but doesn’t feel bad, just savors it on his tongue while he licks into you.

You’re squirming but not away from him–trying to get closer, grabbing the hand on your leg and moving it inward until he’s cupping your mound over your panties. You whine into his mouth, push your ass against his confined cock like a cat in heat.

Warmth radiates from your core, and Hiragi can feel your arousal seeping into the cotton beneath his fingers as he rubs you through the material.

“My room,” you breathe against his lips, only able to lean in that direction as Hiragi doesn’t let you take so much as a step. You have to break the kiss and use a different tone of voice–that voice, “Hiragi. My room,” before it clicks in his head that this is an order, and he has to obey.

He does, but first he tosses you over his shoulder, mouthing up and down your thigh while walking down the hall to your personal haven.

Your scent envelopes him like a thick fog. It blurs his vision and clogs his throat and makes him want to howl. Hiragi has to fuck you. He might die if he doesn’t.

Dropping you onto your bed, he doesn’t even wait for your body to stop bouncing before he descends on you, slipping out of his jacket, latching onto your neck, pushing your dress up over your panties so that he can tug them off of you. He moves his face to your chest, teeth catching the ribbon squeezing your tits. He tugs at it, ends up ripping it, and revels in the sight of you.

The more time he spends with you, the more the animal inside him gets triggered. Sucking on one perfect, pebbled nipple, all he can think about are these gorgeous tits engorged with milk, feeding hungry mouths, the mouths of pups. God, he’s gonna fuck you so full, watch you swell with his cum and then his spawn. Can’t be some rich boy’s wife if you’re too busy nursing, too busy taking Hiragi’s knot over and over and–

He sucks at the swell of your breast, smooth skin drenched in his spit, and bites. Too hard. Breaks the skin, tastes the blood, then bites down harder.

“Fuck, Ragi!” But your fingers tighten in his hair and your hips buck. The purest form of want pulses from the scent glands you don’t even know about, filling Hiragi’s head, getting him stoned, a single word on repeat in his mind: mate, mate, mate.

All he can do is keep sucking and groaning and whimpering into your flesh. He wants you so bad, wants to feel your cunt wrap around him and milk him. You want him too, right? Wanna take him and be with him and let him breed you?

“Please,” you beg, “please, need to feel you–touch my pussy. Please, Ragi, need it–”

He can’t deny you. You’re his master, and he is a slave to you.

Loud squelches echo in your bedroom as Hiragi plunges two fingers inside of you, your slick cunt sucking them in greedily, clenching around them over and over. As much as he wants to slam his dick into you, he has to prepare you first. Your little pussy wasn’t made to take a knot. Hiragi has to make sure he won’t tear you apart when he gives you his.

You’re bucking into every thrust, legs spread wide, and you finally break the seal of his mouth against your chest to bring his bloody lips to yours.

“One more, baby,” you tell him, “get me ready for you, fuck.” Your jaw drops when he slides that third finger alongside the other two, hitting that sweet spot and fucking into it until you scream and gush into his palm.

“Ohh, good boy, just like that,” you praise, encouraging him to keep going with a pleasing scratch between his ears. He noses down your neck, tongue lolling out of his mouth when you start making sweet little sounds, arousal leaking from your gummy walls and soaking his fingers until he pulls them out to watch you squirt like a fucking geyser.

Sliding down your body, he’s got his face shoved between your legs in record time, making you laugh and squeal as he laps up every drop, doing everything he can to make you cum again– “all over my face, princess, give it to me, mark your territory–” He roughly fucks his fingers into you, pulls his face back to stick out his tongue, then moans when you do exactly as your told and make a mess on him.

Hiragi is humping the bed by the time you’re done. He’s dripping with you, smells you everywhere, barely gets his pants down to his thighs before he’s shoving his sticky cock into your fluttering pussy.

There’s no adjustment period, no waiting for you to get used to him or even take a breath. Hiragi sets a brutal rhythm, head thrown back, hips snapping as he loses himself in the feeling of your perfect fucking cunt. So soft and doughy, smearing slick and cream all over his shaft.

You pull his face down to yours for a harsh kiss. Your lips are swollen, and you’re still bleeding from where he bit you earlier. There are so many filthy smells in the air, the stench of sex layered with wanton pheromones. Your head falls back as Hiragi drives into your g-spot, fluid leaking around his cock.

“Never knew you were such a dirty little thing,” Hiragi pants.

The only response he gets is your jaw clamping down on the soft tissue between his neck and shoulder. Your teeth bruise before piercing flesh, drawing blood and leaving their mark.

“Fuck, gonna make me cum,” he growls. You hum around his skin before lifting your face to show off a red-tinted smile.

“Is’at a bad thing?”

You sound drunk. Drunk off his cock, the way he’s fucking you, just like he’s drunk off the way you’re taking him. Squeezing him. Milking him. His knot starts to swell at the base of his dick, growing wider and rounder so that when he uses it to plug you, nothing will spill out.

“Tell me you want it—want it all… spoiled. little. brat—,” he punctuates the last bit with a few well-aimed thrusts, each one moving your body up on the bed and making your tits bounce.

“Want it all–be my good boy, Ragi. Be a good boy and gimme your knot–...” His thrusts get sloppy but never stop. Gripping your thighs, he spreads your legs even more, watching the way he disappears inside of you. That heat builds in his gut, his balls tightening, and with his eyes locked on your creamy hole, Hiragi starts to bully his knot past stretched skin and straining muscle, pushing and pushing as you cry and moan, unable to settle on if you’re lost in pain or pleasure.

“Almost there, princess, it’s almost in.” If you could see what he’s seeing, how pretty your cunt looks getting stuffed fuller than it’s ever been before. “Fuck, look at you…”

Hiragi slips in the rest of the way because you suck him in, pussy contracting with the first waves of your orgasm. You pull him in so tightly then scream as you cum around his knot, walls fluttering, too stuffed to clench the way it wants to.

The sensation has him plummeting into his own climax, his thick cum only adding to the mess inside you. Line after line, he fills you with it, watching the place just between your hips as it becomes bloated.

“Oh my god. Oh my god–I’m… it’s so much,” you whine, looking down at your swelling tummy with wide eyes. “It’s… God, Ragi, m’so full. Can’t–”

He groans as the last bit of cum paints your cervix. His cock is fucking saturated in it, mixing with your own arousal, the pool of squirt you want to push out so bad but can’t because of how he’s plugging you.

“Gonna have to sit with it, baby,” he tells you, voice gravelly. “Stuck like this until my knot goes down.”

You lick your lips, chest still heaving, and Hiragi is too hot for this, shirt drenched against his back. He pulls it off, jostling the both of you in the process so that you whimper and he moans. You're stretched thin around him, your pretty folds chubby from blood flow, puffy clit slick and begging for attention.

Hiragi smirks as he brings his thumb to it, chuckles when you instinctually pull away but can’t. All you do is tug him forward, bringing him down on top of you. He uses one hand to catch himself, the other still between your legs, and plays with you until you’re cumming again, tears streaming down the sides of your face when he doesn’t stop.

He’s long past domestic, now in a feral state as he licks up your cheek, catching the salt on his tongue. His thumb keeps rubbing circles on your overstimulated bud, and your legs tremble violently, still spread wide to accommodate him.

Your next orgasm pulls his second from him. He shoots another large load into you, abandoning your clit so that he can place his hand on your belly.

“You didn’t know what you were getting into, did you?” he hums, nuzzling into your neck, “didn’t know you were gonna be all swollen with my cum.”

You shake your head, more tears falling, but your words betray any discomfort you might be feeling.

“Want m-more of it,” you sniffle.

Hiragi growls and nips at the skin below your ear, heart full of primal possession and affection as his cock throbs inside of you.

“I’ve got so much more to give you,” he murmurs, kissing the bruise he just left. “I’ll spoil you real good, princess. Promise.”

[nickeverdeen]

Game Over | Gamer!Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Pairings: Ellie Williams x fem!reader (romantic)

Type of fic: Smut, Romance, Humor, Fluff (I think?)

Warnings: Eat out, teasing

Summary: You decided to make a bet with Ellie and will do anything to make sure she loses

——————

The sun was setting over Jackson, casting a warm orange glow through the windows of the small house you shared with Ellie. The evening had settled into a comfortable routine—Ellie parked on the couch, PlayStation controller in hand, and you either beside her or lounging on the bed, content just to be in her company.

Tonight, though, you had a plan.

You sauntered into the living room, feeling the oversized hoodie you were wearing brush against your thighs. It was Ellie’s favorite—worn, soft, and slightly too big for you, but you loved how it felt, how it smelled like her. You knew she’d notice it the moment you walked in.

And she did.

Ellie glanced up from her game, her eyes narrowing as she spotted you. “Hey, isn’t that my hoodie?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, plopping down next to her on the couch. “Was your hoodie. Now it’s mine.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Oh, is that so? I’d like it back one day, you know.”

“Nah,” you replied, pulling the sleeves over your hands playfully. “It’s mine now. Besides, it looks better on me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips told you she didn’t really mind. “You’re lucky I love you,” she muttered, turning back to the screen.

You watched as she navigated through the game’s menu, fingers flying over the buttons with practiced ease. An idea popped into your head, one that made your smile grow wider. “Hey, Ellie.”

“Hmm?” she responded, not looking away from the screen.

“I’ve got a dare for you.”

Ellie finally glanced over at you, one eyebrow quirked in curiosity. “A dare?”

You nodded, trying to suppress the mischievous grin threatening to spill onto your face. “Yeah. If you lose this game, you don’t get the hoodie back. And… you have to take me out and pay for dinner.”

Ellie chuckled, shaking her head. “And what happens if I win?”

You shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Same deal. You win, I give you the hoodie back, and I have to suffer the ‘punishment’ of you paying for my dinner.”

Ellie considered this, her eyes narrowing in thought. “Alright, but there’s gotta be some ground rules. If you start getting in front of the TV, pushing me, or tickling me, the deal’s off.”

You held up your hands in mock surrender. “Anything else is fair game?”

Ellie nodded. “Anything else.”

“Deal,” you agreed, your mind already racing with possibilities as she started the game.

Ellie was good—really good, and you knew it. But that was part of the fun. You watched her play for a while, your gaze flitting between the screen and her focused expression, trying to find the perfect moment to make your move.

Ellie was so engrossed in the game that she didn’t notice when you slid off the couch and knelt in front of her. Her concentration was absolute as she navigated through the challenges on-screen, her fingers deftly moving across the controller.

It wasn’t until you tugged at her pants and boxers, sliding them down just enough, that Ellie finally noticed what you were doing. Her eyes widened, and she glanced down at you, her voice low and strained. “What the hell are you doing?”

You looked up at her, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “You said anything else was fair game. Just trying to distract you.”

Ellie’s breath hitched, but she didn’t stop you. “You’re pushing it,” she warned, though her voice was shaky. “Is this too much?”

You paused, giving her an out, but Ellie shook her head after a moment. “No, keep going.”

With her permission granted, you leaned in, pressing your lips to her thigh before moving up, your tongue flicking out to taste her. Ellie gasped, her grip on the controller tightening as she fought to keep her focus on the game.

You took your time, teasing her with gentle licks and soft kisses, feeling the tension building in her thighs as she struggled to keep playing. You could tell she was trying to ignore you, to focus on the game, but every time your tongue dipped between her folds, she faltered.

Ellie bit down on her lip, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as you finally settled on her clit, swirling your tongue around it in slow, deliberate circles. Her hips bucked involuntarily, pressing herself closer to your mouth, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. You had her right where you wanted her.

She tried to keep her eyes on the screen, but you could see her struggling. Her movements were becoming sloppy, her timing off, and you knew it was only a matter of time before she lost the game.

But Ellie was stubborn. She clenched the controller harder, trying to regain her focus as you continued your assault. You pressed your tongue against her clit, harder this time, then flicked it, causing her to jolt. She let out a low moan, her head falling back against the couch for a moment before she forced herself to look at the screen again.

You decided to take it up a notch. Sliding two fingers inside her, you curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made her gasp louder. Ellie’s whole body tensed, and you knew she was close, her resolve crumbling by the second.

Ellie’s hands were shaking now, her fingers fumbling over the buttons as she desperately tried to finish the game before she finished herself. But it was no use. Her focus shattered completely as you sucked on her clit, and with a final, frustrated cry, she dropped the controller.

You didn’t stop, though. You kept going, determined to push her over the edge. Ellie’s hands shot to your hair, gripping tightly as she bucked against your mouth, her breaths turning into ragged, desperate moans.

“Fuck, I can’t—” Ellie gasped, her voice cracking as you pushed her closer and closer to the brink. “I’m gonna—”

Her words were cut off by a sharp cry as her orgasm ripped through her, her body trembling violently as she came on your tongue. You didn’t let up, working her through it until she was a quivering, breathless mess beneath you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ellie’s grip on your hair loosened, and she slumped back against the couch, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. You pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you climbed up onto the couch next to her.

“Told you I’d win,” you teased, your voice breathless but triumphant as you leaned against her.

Ellie shot you a look, still trying to steady her breathing. “You fucking cheated,” she accused, but there was no real bite to her words—just the lingering frustration of someone who had just lost a battle she wasn’t prepared to fight.

“Did not,” you shot back, grinning as you snuggled up to her. “You agreed to the rules.”

Ellie groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah yeah, whatever.”

You chuckled, leaning in to peck her on the cheek. “It’s your own fault for being so confident.”

Ellie huffed, but the irritation in her voice was fading, replaced by the playful glint that had been in her eyes earlier. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

You just grinned, shrugging. “Maybe.”

Ellie looked at you for a long moment, then, without warning, she lunged at you, pushing you back onto the couch and pinning you beneath her. “Maybe I can make you forget about that dinner.”

You laughed, though the sound caught in your throat as Ellie’s hands roamed over your body, her touch sending shivers down your spine. “I still remember,” you teased, though your voice was breathless.

Ellie smirked, her hands sliding under the hoodie you were still wearing. “Well, let’s see if I can change that.”

[joonie-beanie]

Side-Gig | [Peter B. Parker x Reader]

Pairing: Peter B. Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter gets worried about your apparent “side-gig” and goes snooping, only to discover your side-gig is writing Spiderman smut on commission.

Contents: Fluff, Smut, Consensual Sex, Pussy Eating, Banter, Friends to Lovers???

Author’s Note: I swore off posting fics on tumblr, but since this is just a one-shot, I figured why not. I think Peter B is charming, had to write a lil smth smth for him. And by that, I mean a 7.1k wordcount fic.

You and Peter Parker are friends. Not best friends, but pretty good friends. 

You like to say you’ve looked out for each other over the years. You don’t talk all the time, but it’s kind of an unspoken promise that when one of you needs someone to lean on, the other person will be there.

Which is why, when Peter and MJ separate, you make a point of inviting Peter over for meals. 

At first, he turns you down every time you ask, and you know it’s because he’s wallowing—depressed about his situation. And that’s understandable. You can’t exactly say you know what he’s feeling, but if you put yourself in his shoes, you’re sure you’d be a little bit fucked up about everything too.

Therefore, you give him a little space—wait for things to settle and for Peter to come around. 

Except, Peter takes it all way worse than you expect—going radio silent after your third invite in two months. Then, you really start to get worried (and also a little mad that he’s ghosting you).

So, you manage to scrounge up his new address using some internet-sleuthing skills, and show up at his door. When he opens it, he’s dressed in a greasy wife-beater, worn-out gray sweats, and white socks with a hole in the toe.

“Jesus Christ, Peter.”

You spend that evening scolding Peter and letting him cry it all out—handing him tissue after tissue as he blubbers about everything on his mind. When he’s finally done, he apologizes for ignoring your last call, and thanks you for looking out for him.

With a smile, you assure him you’ll always have his back, and that now he really has to come over for dinner, because he owes you.

Laughing, Peter agrees. And luckily, he sticks to his word.

Since then, you and Peter make a point of doing dinner twice a month—typically at your place, sometimes out at a restaurant, but never at Peter’s. Not until he deep cleans his messy apartment, and you know that won’t be happening anytime soon.

Tonight, you’re at a restaurant of your choice—a local Italian joint. Peter arrives late, per normal, and you wave him over when you see him walk in the front door. He immediately spots you and hurries over, his eyes darting to the plate of bruschetta you’d ordered for the table, that now only has two pieces left.

“Aw, that’s not fair,” he says, sliding into the booth across from you. He immediately reaches for one, shoving it into his mouth. You shrug, not sorry.

“That’s what you get for always being late. And if I waited for you, I’d be hangry by now. So really, you should be thanking me.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter says with a roll of his eyes, picking up the menu to see what it is he wants. 

“So, how have you been? I know we just saw each other two weeks ago, but—how’s work?”

You sigh at Peter’s question, resting your chin against your palm.

“Fine, I guess. Work is cutting hours since things are slow right now, so I’m gonna be pretty strapped for cash the next month or two.”

Peter blinks at your response, staring at you over the edge of the menu.

“Should we be here then? We could just get the check now and go down the street to the bodega—”

“No—no, it’s fine,” you reassure him, taking a sip from your glass. From the look of it, Peter can tell the glass is filled with rum and coke—your simple, yet timeless go-to. 

“This is kind of my last hurrah, y’know? Gotta get one last plate of carbonara in before I’m eating ramen and eggs for the next few months.”

“I dunno about that,” Peter responds. “Eggs are pretty expensive now—you might have to settle for canned tuna.”

You roll your eyes at him, yet can’t help the little giggle that escapes you.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know,” he says with a smile.

The waitress wanders back over, and you and Peter put in your orders. Peter also opts to get a drink (after all, if you’re drinking, why shouldn’t he), and a few minutes later, a cosmopolitan is placed onto the table in front of him.

You watch him with a wide smile as he picks up the girly drink and takes a long sip—his pinky sticking out and everything.

“You and your love of sweet drinks,” you say, swirling around the ice in your half-empty glass. Peter hums happily.

“Listen, this is way better than beer.”

Honestly, you can’t disagree.

“So,” he continues, picking up the previous topic. “Are you gonna be okay? Money-wise?”

It’s not like he has much help to offer. Being a masked vigilante doesn’t pay very well, after all, but still.

“Yeah,” you assure him. “I have a side-gig that brings in a little cash-flow, so that’ll help cushion the blow. But I think I should still be able to afford rent and some groceries. I’ll just have to budget better, y’know?”

Peter nods. “Oh, okay. Good—,” but then his brain repeats the phrase “side-gig”, and his words cut off.

“Wait, what kind of side-gig are we talking about here?”

Despite how long the two of you have known each other, Peter has never heard anything about any kind of “side-gig”. It’s a little concerning, honestly, since the two of you don’t really keep secrets from each other.

Although it’s not like you know he’s Spiderman.

“Yeah. It’s nothing illegal, I promise,” you tell him, your attitude remaining pleasant. Peter stares at you, waiting for you to say more, but your smile only grows wider.

“Not telling,” you say, laughing quietly to yourself when Peter huffs in annoyance and grabs his drink. “You’ll just have to trust me. I’d never do anything illegal—you know me.”

“I dunno,” he responds, a playful lilt in his tone. “In college I seem to remember you stealing soft drinks from the mess hall without paying—”

“Oh c’mon,” you shoot back, and Peter grins, knowing you hate when he brings that up. “We were already paying to go to classes! Why should I pay 3 dollars for a cup of watered down coke?!”

Peter laughs as you go on a mini tangent about how college is a ripoff—ordering both you and him two more drinks when your waitress stops in to check on your table.

After a short while, your food comes out, and the two of you catch up over the hot meal. Conversation flows like normal—touching on any other life updates, and also local news topics, and things of the like. 

At your insistence, Peter splits a tiramisu with you to close out the evening, and by the time the dessert is gone, Peter thinks he may explode.

“Ugh, why did I let you talk me into that?” Peter groans, curling over and holding his stomach as you fetch enough cash from his wallet to cover half the bill.

“Well, if you were smart like me, you would have kept half of your entree to take home with you for later, and then you would have had enough room left for dessert. Which, by the way, is too good to waste—so don’t puke it up.”

Your waitress swings by to grab the bill, and you assure her it’s all set—passing her the small stack of money taken from both your and Peter’s wallets. She thanks you with a smile, and then scurries away, leaving the two of you alone.

You reach over the table, patting Peter’s shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. Your stomachs gotten bigger, after all.”

“Hey—,” Peter frowns, lifting his head. You’re already grabbing your purse and takeout box—sliding out of the booth. He quickly follows after you.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No,” you respond, holding the door open for him as the two of you step out into the cool New York air. “You’re actually still surprisingly in-shape for someone whose diet consists of pizza and frozen meals. But, that being said, you can’t deny you’ve put on a few pounds.”

Peter places a hand on his stomach.

“Remind me again why you’re so mean to me?”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound getting lost in the crowd around you.

“You just make it too easy,” you admit, grinning up at him. Despite himself, Peter smiles back.

Being the gentleman that he is, Peter fully intends to escort you back to the doorstep of your apartment building, but—

His spidey senses tingle, and he can tell something is off. 

“Hey, um,” Peter grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. Before your brain can even catch up, he’s yanking you into a quick hug, and then backpedaling towards the alleyway the two of you had just passed.

“Sorry, I just remembered there’s something I have to do. It was nice seeing you! Let’s touch base soon!”

He’s gone before you can even get a word out, disappearing around the corner. You stare after him for a moment, befuddled, and then continue on your way with a sigh. 

Same ‘ol Peter.

Exactly one hour later, Peter collapses in a pile of trash—his lungs heaving, and body aching. The fight itself hadn’t been that hard—just a few wannabe criminals with deadlier than normal weapons. 

No, the real challenge had been not barfing up his dinner while doing acrobatics across the city.

And maybe laying in a pile of trash to take a breather isn’t exactly helping his current predicament, but fuck—he doesn’t have the energy to move right now

Spreading out his limbs, Peter stares up at the smog-coated night sky, his mind wandering. He thinks about a lot of things—all the villains he’s fought in his time as Spiderman, the people who have come in and out of his life during it all, including you. You…who apparently has a “side-gig”.

…but like, what kind of side-gig?

Peter groans, knowing he won’t be able to let this go. 

You can’t just drop the knowledge that you have a secret side-gig on him and then not tell him what it is! 

And if you’re insistent on keeping it a secret, it must be something bad, right? RIGHT??

“Goddammit,” he grumbles, picking himself up. He swings off into the night, his mind reeling.

Peter lasts all of 3-days before he decides he can’t be left alone with his thoughts anymore—that he just needs to confirm what exactly your side-gig is, before his theories can get any wilder.

Because so far, his top guesses are that you’re either 1. Unknowingly acting as a middle man for some illegal trafficking operation, or 2. Providing “services” to New York sleazebags to get in their wallets.

And Peter knows it’s likely neither option—you’re too smart to get roped into something stupid. Plus, you had assured him it was nothing illegal.

But if he doesn’t figure it out, he thinks he may explode. 

So…he goes snooping. 

It’s not his brightest moment—using the spare key you had given him “in case of emergency” to sneak into your apartment one evening. (But to be fair, to him…this might just be an emergency).

He’d used his spidey senses to scope out your apartment before coming in, so he knows you're not home. Which is good, but…he doesn’t know when you’re gonna be back either, so he has to move fast.

Softly closing the front door behind him, Peter tip-toes across your apartment, deciding to start in your bedroom. He stands in the doorway for a moment, guilt bubbling up inside of him, but he decides to push forward anyway.

He’s just making sure you’re okay, he tells himself. You’re one of his closest friends, and you won’t tell him your secret—so it’s understandable he’d be worried.

Like the true Sherlock that he is, Peter starts with you dressers. He quickly checks each drawer—gently lifting up the stacks of clothes to make sure nothing is hidden beneath them. (The only time doesn’t is when he encounters the drawer with your bras and panties. He simply stares at them with flushed cheeks, rocking awkwardly on his heels, before he quietly closes the drawer. Surely nothing would be in there anyway, right?)

The small stack of papers on your nightstand ends up being recent receipts, and a manual on how to use the white noise machine you've apparently just purchased, considering it's sitting on the floor beside your nightstand, still in the box.

Getting on his hands and knees, Peter does a quick check under your bed, and freezes when he spots a covered box. He pulls it out without thinking, tugging off the fabric lined lid—

—and immediately slams it back down.

…veiny, pink, silicon—

Peter haphazardly pushes the box back under the bed, hurrying to his feet. He bustles into the kitchen with cherry-colored ears.

All-in-all, it takes Peter about half an hour to search your apartment, and unfortunately…he comes up empty handed. It seems like you have nothing to hide (except a box of sex toys under your bed, but Peter thinks that’s pretty understandable. You don't want dumb assholes like him accidentally finding it, even though Peter had—)

Sighing, Peter takes one last glance around your apartment.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have done this,” he sighs to himself, taking a step towards the door. But—not watching where he’s going, he stubs his toe into the leg of your coffee table.

A curse leaves his lips, and your opened laptop—which had previously been dark—jolts to life. Kicking the table must have moved your wireless mouse, Peter realizes.

Having already decided to leave, Peter fully intends to continue on his way. That is…before he takes a glance at your computer screen and sees that you have it open to a Google doc titled: “Spiderman x Reader Commission #6”.

…then, he’s scrambling onto your couch and yanking your laptop towards him.

“Number six??” he hisses dramatically, his eyes scanning over the document so fast that he doesn’t actually end up reading anything. 

He has to pause and go back to try again, but the second Peter reads the sentence “Spiderman’s cock strains painfully against the tight confines of his suit, his fingers twitching against your waist as he drags you in closer”, his brain effectively blue screens.

In a panic, he clicks into a different tab that’s open—landing on your email inbox, where a thread sits open. A transaction between you and an apparent “customer”. Someone who had contacted you in regards to your open “commissions”. 

Hi there! 

I saw you’re accepting commissions, and I really enjoyed reading the other Spiderman fics you wrote! Would you be open to writing one for me? Preferably a Reader x Spiderman, and a smut/fluff genre. Based on the rate sheet, I think I can afford it, but I’d appreciate it if we could talk more and discuss the final price based on the idea I have.

Thanks!

Holy shit, Peter realizes. Your side-gig is writing Spiderman porn on commission.

He sinks back into the couch, his mind whirling. 

How long has this been going on?? Do you…are you attracted to Spiderman?? As long as Peter has known you, you’ve never really fangirled over Spiderman. If Spiderman had popped up in the news, the two of you would talk about him, but…that was it.

And now you’re writing Spiderman smut for cash? Holy hell.

Peter supposes he should be relieved that what you’re doing truly isn’t illegal. That you’re just making money in a mostly innocent way, from the safety of your home. Meaning, Peter can call it quits, and leave.

…but instead, he leans forward, clicks back onto the Google doc tab, and starts reading more.

The document is still a work-in-progress, but Peter scrolls back up to the top, wanting to see how you’ve managed to set up this scenario.

As it turns out, a villain had injected Spiderman with some sort of aphrodisiac, and the reader is a bystander, bravely offering Spiderman her services to get him out of this pickle.

While embarrassing to admit, Peter gets sucked into the story—impressed by your ability to write, and your portrayal of him—err, Spiderman. In fact, he gets so distracted by the story and the multitude of thoughts running through his head that his spidey senses don’t kick in until danger is right on his doorstep.

Or, in reality, you are on your doorstep—your key shoving into the lock on the door. 

Peter’s heart nearly rockets out of his chest, his eyes darting to the window across the room. It’s closed, and even if he used his web shooter to rocket over to it, he wouldn’t be able to safely open the window and escape outside in the two seconds it’s going to take you to finish unlocking your do—

Before he can even finish the thought, your front door shoves open, and you flick on the lights—your gaze immediately finding Peter, who is still firmly planted on your couch, looking like a deer in headlights. 

You stare at him in shock.

“Peter? What…? Why are you here?”

“I was…worried about you,” Peter responds, forcing himself to smile. And it’s not like it’s a lie.

“You said you were strapped for cash, and I…I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

You kick the door shut behind you, your purse and keys discarded on the small table beside your entryway. 

“I thought I told you to just trust me?”

You face him with a hand posed sternly on your hip. You appreciate his concern for you, but it’s a little upsetting that he hadn’t just been able to trust your word. 

“I know,” Peter responds with a sigh. He runs a hand through his graying hair, and your gaze flits to his ears, noticing how red they are. Why is he so flushed?

“And I’m sorry. I’m dumb, I should have. Trusted you, I mean. I’ll just—,” he pushes himself up, planning to excuse himself and run, but freezes half way to his feet. 

He’s half hard. Fuck.

If he gets up now, it’ll be a lot harder to hide that—especially since he’s wearing sweatpants.

Making a lil noise, Peter eases himself back down onto your couch. You cock an eyebrow.

“...you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry…back spasm.”

“Well, you don’t have to rush out. You’re welcome to stay for a while if you don’t have anywhere to be.”

You flash him a smile and turn towards the kitchen. Peter watches you as you open your fridge and bend down—fetching two bottles of water from the bottom shelf. His eyes glue to your ass the second you lean over, and Peter punches himself in the knee—forcing his gaze up towards the ceiling.

He’s going fucking insane. He’s not used to being this…feral feeling. Arousal is usually one of the emotions that evades him nowadays, but here he is—done in by fucking Spiderman fanfiction. 

Who knew he’d get turned on reading about himself fucking some nameless woman? And who knew that arousal would make him thirst after you?

(Honestly, if he thinks about it, it’s not that surprising. The two of you have been friends for years, and he feels comfortable around you. Not to mention, you’ve always been attractive, even if you do like to push his buttons—)

“Here,” you say, snapping him out of his internal panic. You plop down onto the couch next to him, handing him one of the two bottles of water. 

Peter reaches out to take it, and you notice the sweat beading on his brow. Why the hell is he—?

At that moment, you spot your laptop on the coffee table—open, and still showing the commission document you’d left open earlier on. Your first instinct is to reach over and slam your laptop shut before Peter can see—

…wait.

Peter reaches forward to take the water bottle from your grasp, but when he grips it, you don’t budge.

Confused, he looks up—only to find you intensely staring at him.

“Did you read it…?”

Peter’s face heats up, his eyes darting to the side to avoid looking at you.

Busted…

You pulse races, embarrassment blooming in your chest.

HE DID, you realize. HE READ IT. Your fucking Spiderman smut!

“Ah, shit…,” you mumble, letting go of his water bottle and crumpling in on yourself. You curl onto your side, hiding your face in the couch cushion. 

Feeling horrible that he has embarrassed you—having discovered something you’d tried to keep private—Peter hurries to try and smooth over the situation.

“Okay, yes, I did read it,” he starts by saying. “But…it was…really good! You’re a good writer, and I can see why people are commissioning you! You’ll surely make some cash with the skill you have.”

If he was smart, he’d have stopped there, but no—Peter keeps going.

“A-And hey! I’d be willing to help too. Y’know, help give you some inspiration for your stories—”

His voice dies in his throat, realizing what it is he has just offered. And obviously, you realize it too—your head immediately lifting, staring at him with curious surprise.

“Did you just…offer…to fuck? To help me with my stories?”

The insinuation is so insane that you can’t help laughing. Peter coughs, straightening his shoulders out.

“I think I’d be very good inspiration for Spiderman.”

“Really?”

There’s disbelief in your voice. Peter narrows his eyes.

“You don’t think so?”

You hum, uncapping your water bottle and taking a swig. Peter mirrors you, his throat feeling dry.

“Spiderman is…suave and heroic, and you’re…dorky. Smart, but dorky.”

Peter frowns. “I can be…suave.”

You cock an eyebrow, a playful grin breaking out on your face. Your heart is racing a million miles an hour, because never did you think you’d be sitting here with Peter, the possibility of sex between the two of you suddenly laid out on the table. You’d never deny he’s an attractive male, and maybe because it’s him, and because you’ve missed the feel of another human being, you end up saying—

“Yeah? Show me then.”

You lean back, waiting to see if Peter will make a move. 

Unfortunately, the realization that you’re open to whatever is happening right now causes Peter’s brain to stall, and he takes a second too long to act—just long enough to allow doubt to worm its way into your head.

You’re putting him on the spot. And he’s still probably dealing with some complicated feelings from the split—you shouldn’t have poked him.

Without saying anything, you decide to try and create some space. You push off of the couch, padding towards your bedroom. You’ll make an excuse about needing to fold your clothes, or something stupid—and hopefully Peter will take what you’ve said as a joke, and will move on. Yeah, that sounds like a solid plan—

Pausing in the doorway of your room, you force yourself to smile, and turn to face Peter—only to find that he’d snuck up on you—your gaze meeting his chest the second you turn around.

“Pe—,” you’re only able to get the first syllable of his name out, your chin tilting back as you look up at him. The feeling of his palm cupping your cheek is what makes your voice die out, his chestnut eyes boring into you. 

You can see the hesitation on his face. A certain lack of confidence that you’re sure stems from his past relationship issues. But beneath that, you can see desire. A craving for intimacy he hasn’t shared in a long time.

You decide to be the one to close the gap—pressing onto your toes, your palm resting flat on his pec as you lean upward—connecting your lips with his. You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips, and you silently convince yourself that if Peter backs out, you’ll be fine with it. 

Luckily, he doesn’t. His brain finally kicks into gear, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist as he kisses you back. 

You make a pleasantly surprised little sound, your arms lifting to wrap around his neck—effectively deepening the kiss. A wrinkle appears between Peter’s eyebrows, his grip on your waist tightening. Your chest presses flat against his torso, and he rubs his thumb against your cheek, obsessed with the plushness of your lips and the feel of you against him.

It’s been way too long since he’s been intimate like this…that’s apparent by the blood absolutely rockets into his dick.

Although, to be fair, he’d already been half-hard before this.

“You think our local hero gets hard this quick?” you mumble against his lips with a grin, giggling when Peter makes a noise of annoyance and nips at you.

“You’d be surprised,” he responds. He slots his thigh between your knees, backing you into the doorframe. His clothed cock grinds against your stomach, trapped between your bodies, and his muscles tense.

“Adrenaline can go straight to the dick sometimes…”

(Peter has lost track of how many times, after an intense fight—especially earlier in his career—he’d swung home and immediately jerked off).

“That’s fair, I suppose.”

Your fingertips coast up the nape of his neck, tangling in the messy hair at the base of his skull. You yank him downward ever so slightly, your lips connecting with the skin of his neck. He immediately shivers, the first of many embarrassing sounds ripping from his chest as you lick and suck at his flesh.

“Think Spiderman whimpers?”

You’re teasing him. As to be expected, given the dynamic of your relationship. But Peter doesn’t intend on taking it quietly.

“Maybe,” he admits, “If you make him feel good enough. But if you wanna know what I think—”

Peter surprises you by ducking down—his arms looping around your thighs as he lifts you off the floor. Your squeal, arms and legs instinctively wrapping around him since you don’t want to fall, but Peter carries you easily enough—striding into your room and depositing you onto your bed.

He doesn’t waste any time—quickly caging you down. His knee reclaims its spot between your thighs, rubbing incessantly at the dampening fabric covering your privates, and his lips find your neck—a shiver raking up your spine as his stubble scratches against your skin.  

“Peter,” you gasp when his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips ghost over your heated skin, brushing past your waist, and finding the clasp of your bra. You have to arch to give him room to work, and Peter sucks a hickey of approval into your neck. He debates telling you “good girl”, but the thought leaves him the second your bra pops open.

He needs your tits in his mouth.

“—I think Spiderman has a thing for boobs,” Peter says, finally finishing his earlier statement. This exclamation is followed with the immediate removal of your shirt and bra—Peter forcibly tugging them over your head and discarding them on the floor beside your bed. 

The sight of Peter groping you and lowering his mouth to your chest is enough to have your heart skipping a beat, and you can’t help the mewl that leaves you when Peter sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.

Peter groans when your fingers fist in his hair, practically keeping his mouth trapped where it is, which he hardly minds considering he intends to lick and suck at your tits until you’re panting. 

And, that’s exactly what he does.

He lavishes your chest with his mouth—relishing in the way your hips jump at each little nip of his teeth or roll of your nipple between his fingers. It’s embarrassing, honestly, how wet it gets you—your panties feeling quite wet as you continue grinding your pussy against Peter’s thigh.

You try and think of some smart response in regard to Peter’s opinion that Spiderman is a tit man, not an ass man, but words seem to be avoiding you. You can’t think of anything coherently when Peter is touching you like this. Especially when his face finally leaves your chest, his lips peppering kisses down the length of your torso.

You lift your head to look at him, propping up on one of your arms. Peter reaches your navel, but doesn’t stop, heading towards—

“Peter,” you pant, your face flushing hotly as you realize the path he’s carving. 

Peter hums, his eyes flitting up and meeting your gaze just as he hooks his thumbs beneath the band of your pants. 

“Another thing about Spiderman…,” he begins, kissing the skin of your tummy as he inches your waistband down your hips. You watch him with blown-wide eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly—excitement and nervousness mingling inside of you.

You lift your ass off the mattress to help him shuck you of your bottoms, and Peter smiles, tossing your pants on the floor beside your other clothes.

Never in your life did you imagine the sight of Peter sinking to his knees, his hands gripping your hips and dragging you closer to him—his gaze falling between your legs. Your panties are soaked, and the sight causes more blood to rush into his dick. He’s so hard that it honestly hurts—just a little bit—but Peter still doesn’t touch himself, because—

“...Spiderman loves eating pussy.”

“He’s a people-pleaser,” you quip breathlessly, your thighs quivering in Peter’s hold when he presses a kiss to your skin, right beside your panty line. He quietly chuckles.

“Maybe.”

Peter thumbs at your clit through your panties, relishing in the whine he rips from your throat. You hips buck in his hold, craving more, and when Peter sees the desperate look on your face, he decides to not tease you.

Peeling your panties to the side, Peter finally connects his mouth with your pussy—his tongue licking a wet, broad strip between your folds.

Oh, shit, you think to yourself, the muscles in your abdomen convulsing as you watch one of your closest friends eat you out. The whole situation is making you feel light headed, so you can’t help it when you collapse back onto the mattress, your fingers fisting in the sheets as Peter groans into your cunt.

He eats you like a man starved, his face quickly becoming covered with your arousal. His nose bumps against your clit as his tongue sinks between your walls, and you full out whimper—your hips needily grinding against his mouth.

Peter’s palm presses down on your pelvis, forcing your hips to the mattress. He doesn’t want you squirming—just wants you desperate and pliant. To see you cumming on his tongue.

His name falls from your lips again, more debauched than he’s ever heard, and Peter curses.

“Shit.”

His tone is guttural, and sexy, and—

He presses a finger inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Pete—,” his name deterorates into a moan, your brain function declining as Peter begins fucking his finger inside of you. At the same time, he focuses his mouth on your clit, his tongue urgently flicking against the bundle of nerves. 

You unconsciously wriggle at the assault of stimulation, but Peter’s hand on your stomach keeps you in place.

Why is he so strong? You think to yourself, moan ripping from your chest as Peter slips in a second finger. It doesn’t take him long to locate that spongy little sweet spot inside of you. The one that causes your thighs to shake as he practically abuses it—rubbing the pads of his fingers against it repeatedly until you’re nearly sobbing.

The coil in your belly winds tight, heat searing your veins. You can feel your clit throbbing against Peter’s tongue, and the walls of your pussy tightening up around him.

“Peter,” you cry, your entire body trembling. You’re so fucking close.

“Cum,” he rasps. He needs to see you orgasm—needs to feel you unraveling on his mouth and fingers. 

Hearing the gravel of his voice is the final nail in your coffin—the tension in your muscles releasing as your orgasm washes over you. Just as he wanted, you cum all over him, your cunt gushing arousal around his fingers as his tongue continues lapping at your clit, dragging out the waves of your pleasure until you’re panting and pawing at his head, trying to push him away.

After a moment, he relents—sitting back to look at you.

You’re covered in a sheen of sweat, your chest heaving, and an arm draped over your eyes. Your tits are peppered with an array of hickies, and Peter feels his chest (and cock) swell with pride. He’s clearly done a number on you. And yet…

You feel the mattress dip, and then the room is spinning around you. When things finally settle, you find yourself laying on top of Peter.

He has one arm wrapped around your waist, his palm resting on your ass. The other brushes a few stray strands of hair out of your face when you lean back to look at him.

“Spiderman also loves being ridden,” he says with a grin. You place your hands on his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter as he watches you struggle to sit up.

“You think I have the energy to ride you after you just did that? And why do you keep saying Spiderman enjoys these things like they’re facts—you don’t know.”

“Just a feeling,” he responds, licking his lips. His hands find your hips, and he grinds you downwards. Your sensitive pussy rubs against his aching length, still trapped behind his sweatpants, and it’s hard to miss the way Peter harshly swallows at the feeling.

You sigh, scooting backwards.

“Fine.”

You shove his sweats and boxers down his thighs, careful to not snag them on his dick. And damn, he really must be aching—a sticky string of precum dripping from the head of his cock, and pooling on his abdomen. 

He opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to say anything. Your fingers wrap around his cock, smearing his arousal across his length, and whatever Peter had been planning to say crumbles into a needy garble of non-words.

You can’t help but smile at the sound.

“Surprised you didn’t cream your pants already,” you tell him, but your tone is hardly teasing. No, seeing him beneath you like this—the muscles in his torso clenching with every stroke of your hand—it’s actually quite endearing.

“I’ll cum in your hand if you keep doing that,” he pants, glancing into your eyes. You spot nothing but lust there, any previous reservations gone.

“Is that so bad?” you ask, thumbing at the head of his cock. Peter’s grip on your waist tightens, and you hear him take a shaky breath.

“Yes.”

He wants to be inside you, that much is clear. And while it’d be so easy to draw it out and make him beg…you don’t feel like being mean to him. Not tonight, after he’d just given you the best oral of your life.

“Fine,” you relinquish. You scoot forward, planting one hand on his chest, and gripping the base of his cock with the other. Peter’s breath catches when you rub the head of his cock between your folds, a heady groan following a beat later as you begin sinking down onto him.

By the time his cock is fully inside of you, your thighs are shaking. Whether from the lack of energy due to your previous orgasm, the remarkable size of Peter inside of you, or both—you’re not totally sure.

“There’s no rush,” Peter reassures you, but the needy warble of his voice betrays his words.

“My legs might give out at some point,” you respond with a breathless laugh, and Peter echos you, giving your waist a squeeze.

“That’s fine. I’ll help.”

With your palms planted firmly on his chest, you begin to ride him. 

And god, you feel so fucking good.

“Fuck,” Peter bites out, watching the space between your bodies, where his cock disappears inside of you with every roll of your hips. It’s been ages since a cunt has squeezed his dick like this, and honestly, he can see himself very easily getting addicted to the feel of you.

The bounce of your tits as you ride him, the cute little sounds you make when his cock rubs against the sensitive spots inside you—he feels like he’s going crazy.

“Peter,” you whine, your pace flattering. Having his cock inside of you is incomparable to the feeling of his fingers, and very quickly, you can feel another orgasm building, but…the closer you get, the more your strength falters.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he responds, praises falling from his lips. “You’re doing so good. You feel so good.”

His words cause your walls to clench around him, and he groans—his hands sliding down to your hips as he helps rock you down onto his cock. The sloppy sound of sex fills your bedroom, and you watch Peter with half-lidded eyes, soaking up the desperation showing on his face. 

His hair is slicked back with sweat, brows pinched together in concentration as he forces you to continue riding him. At least, until he starts craving more.

With his orgasm quickly approaching—despite the immense pleasure he gains seeing you bouncing on top of him—Peter’s hunger gets the best of him.

He grabs your wrists, moves your arms so they’re wrapped around his shoulders, and then secures his arms around your back. Before you can even digest the slight change in position, Peter is fucking you.

An incoherent string of noise slips past your lips, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as his cock pistons inside of you. With his arms trapping you against his chest, you’re helpless but to take it—your orgasm rushing to the surface at the desperate yet brutal pace that Peter sets.

“Peter,” you sob into his neck.

“It’s okay,” he responds without missing a beat, his voice breathless. “I’m right there. Cum for me again, sweetheart.”

As if you could stop.

Holding onto him for dear life, you cum for the second time that night—your walls clamping down on his cock so tightly that Peter’s rhythm falters. A curse rips from his throat, and his hands find the plush of your ass—stuffing your body down onto his dick as he cums along with you—pumping you full of his seed.

The needy tension of the room melts away, and you and Peter can only lay there—a pile of sweaty yet sated flesh. It takes you both a minute to catch your breaths, and you make a quiet noise of disappointment when Peter’s cock slips out of you. 

You can feel his cum running out of your pussy.

“Your balls aren’t dried up yet?”

Peter’s chest rumbles beneath you.

“I’m in my 30’s, not my 60’s.”

You glance up at him when you feel Peter’s fingers clearing the hair away from your face, and he smiles at you. Your heart jumps.

He must know how handsome he is, right? Even with that crooked nose of his.

“Don’t you ever get tired of taking cracks at me?” he wonders, using his grip on your ass to slide you farther up his chest. You giggle, cupping his cheeks as you find yourself suddenly face to face with him. 

“Mmmm, no?”

He rolls his eyes, yet his smile widens. You lean down to kiss him, and he reciprocates easily enough.

“Feeling good?” you ask him, carding your fingers through his hair. He nods.

“Very. I…really missed that.”

“Same,” you agree, sitting back. You need to get to the bathroom before any cum gets on your nice sheets. You crawl off of Peter, swinging your legs over the side of your mattress. He rolls onto his side, watching you with furrowed brows as he tucks his dick back into his pants.

“Same? You haven’t—?”

“Not in a while,” you admit, pulling a fresh shirt and a pair of panties from your dresser drawers. You’re about to make a joke that the only action you’ve gotten recently is from the toys stashed under your bed, but when you turn to look at the spot where they’re hidden, you find that…the box has moved. It’s not where you had left it.

“Did you…find my sex toys? Before I came home?”

Peter’s face goes carefully blank, but the red flush of his ears betrays him. 

You shoot him a glare, leaving your room with a huff.

“Dude doesn’t trust me…how fucking rude…”

“Hey now—!” 

Peter’s feet pound against the floor as he chases after you, and he catches you around the waist just before you make it into your bathroom. His lips press against the crown of your head.

“Again, I’m sorry for snooping. I’m dumb.”

You sigh, wriggling around to face him.

“You are,” you agree, lightly patting his chest. “Dumb, and insistent that Spider man loves tits, eating pussy, and getting ridden. Still holding those beliefs?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Peter grins. “And I have other beliefs about his preferences as well.”

“Of course you do,” you laugh. You kiss his cheek, and then step out of his hold—heading into the bathroom. 

“I’m going to shower,” you tell him. “There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you want any.”

Peter nods, and the last thing you see is him heading for your fridge when you close the bathroom door.

30 minutes later, you exit your steaming bathroom in your fresh oversized t-shirt and panties, fully expecting to find Peter lounging around your apartment, eating all your food. But…to your utter disappointment, you don’t spot him anywhere.

You sigh, shoulders sagging. Had it been too much to assume he would have wanted to stay the night?

Shuffling into your kitchen, you spot an empty plate on your table. One that you know had previously been piled high with leftover chicken and potatoes.

“He eats my food and runs off…of course,” you mumble, picking up the plate to put it in the sink. However, before your annoyance can truly get the better of you, a piece of paper that had been stuck to the bottom of the plate floats to the ground.

You bend over to pick it up.

Hey!

Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to stay so long, so I left my apartment earlier without locking the door. I’m running back home to lock it, but I should be back at your place by 9!

Don’t get mad at me. I’d never run off without a word :p

-PB

PS. I have a working theory that Spiderman also has more stamina than you’d expect, even for a guy who’s been doing hero work for 20+ years, so…round two when I get back?

You can’t help but laugh.

What an idiot. 

But…you like him.

[seijorhi]

invidia ii

a (very belated) christmas present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy who has, for two years straight, begged me for more shinnosuke content. i hope you like it bby! kuroo tetsurou x female reader, kuroo shinnosuke (oc) x female reader part i w.c 3.1k tw: noncon/dubcon, slight daddy kink, (forced) infidelity, yandere themes, nsfw, smut, age gap, i guess hints of breeding kink, dilf kuroo

“Why did your parents split up?”

Mid-way through pulling on a pair of old, grey sweatpants, mopping at beads of water from his shower still rolling down his bare chest, Shinnosuke throws you a curious look, but shrugs easily enough.

“They weren’t ever really ‘together’ to begin with. They tried the whole co-parenting thing to start with but mom… they never loved each other. Hell, I don’t even think they liked each other most of the time beyond–” he breaks off, his nose wrinkling in distaste. It almost makes you laugh. “Anyway, dad always said she had one foot out the door from the start. Dad was the one who stuck around to raise me.” There’s no animosity in his tone, he says it like it’s the simple truth. You’ve never met the woman, never having shown up to any of the Nekoma games, his graduation, any of it. You’ve seen a picture or two, overheard the odd phone call, but for as long as you’ve known him, the only real parent in Shin’s life has always been his dad.

If there’s anyone he idolises, it’s his father.

 Which is why the words that he says next – casting aside the damp towel in the general direction of the laundry basket (boys) and sauntering on over to join you in bed – take you entirely by surprise. “We’ll go visit her in Golden Week. I want her to meet you.”

And again, the words are just that; words. Shin kisses you, a sweet peck on your lips, and wastes no time in scooping you back into his arms and settling back with a contented sigh. They’re just words, but there’s this look in his eyes when he says it that makes you think he means something more. 

Your stomach flutters.

—

‘You really wanna break his heart like that, kitten?’

—

“Still not feeling any better?” Shin asks, brushing your hair back to feel your forehead. The beginnings of a frown start to take shape, teeth gently burrowing into his bottom lip, but he straightens and sighs, and that hint of discontent smoothes over like it had never existed in the first place. He strokes your hair again and offers a small, sympathetic smile. “No temperature, that’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

You’re a coward.

“It’s not my head, I just…” don’t have any visible, plausible symptoms for the fake illness that’s currently keeping you curled up in Shin’s bed. Away from the creep who’d smiled and fucking winked at you Christmas morning. “I just feel off.”

“Poor baby,” he coos, laughing when your face screws up and you swat at him.

Right now, swaddled in his hoodie, his fingers carding through your hair and that stupid, impish, almost believable grin beaming down at you, you want to forget. To pretend. 

Because there’s a pit in your stomach. A bitter, gnarled, seething mass. This moment right now, in Shin’s bed, it’s like glass, paper thin and already cracked, it can’t possibly last, and yet you’re clinging to it so desperately, head buried in the sand, willing yourself to pretend, from one heartbeat to the next, that what’s happened won’t break the two of you. 

That your stomach doesn’t threaten to upend when you catch sight of those hazel eyes peering down at you – the same shape and shade as his father’s.

You shudder out a breath, and what little levity there was between you two gets sucked out with it. Shin’s expression gutters.

Yeah. 

His fingers don’t leave your hair, though. Playing idly with the strands as though the suffocating tension in the room doesn’t exist at all. “Dad’s taking us out to dinner tonight,” he tells you. Reminds you, because you knew all of this beforehand. Everything but the party. “Do you want me to run by the pharmacy to get you something?”

Another tap at the fractured glass. 

That’s Shinnosuke all over, isn’t it? You might’ve been the manager back in the day, but it was always Shin who kept an eye on his team, on you, to make sure everyone was good. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ll–” the words get stuck in your throat. “I’ll see how I feel in an hour or so. ‘m still a little tired.” 

“You want some tea, sweetheart?”

‘Shh, sweetheart, you gotta keep it down.’

A cold sweat breaks out on the nape of your neck. No. No, no, no, no–

“Baby?”

You flinch like he’s slapped you, jerking away from the hand he’s wound in your hair. The startled look he shoots you borders on wounded, but you’re already squirming towards the edge of the bed, stumbling to your feet like a newborn foal. “Bathroom,” you manage to eke out, your voice sounding far too strangled and hoarse to pass as anywhere near the realm of fine. 

Shin doesn’t follow, doesn’t so much as utter a word – all kicked puppy confused – as you throw the door closed behind you and collapse back against it, a sweaty, ashen mess. 

He usually calls you love. Baby. Princess when he’s being a little shit. 

Sweetheart’s a rare one. 

Your heart races, a runaway train pounding in your chest. His eyes, his touch, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.

Another shuddering breath in. Out. 

Fuck. 

There’s a knock – not at the ensuite door, the sound’s too muffled for that, and you didn’t hear Shin’s footsteps (though you’re not sure you would, over the pounding in your ribs) meaning that the knocking’s at his door. 

There’s only one other occupant in the house. Though you try your damndest to fight it, there’s no stopping the wave of panic that stabs through you. Shin’s door creaks open, soft voices barely creeping through the gap in the door, and your fingers go rigid, nails clawing at the black and white flooring as though you can ground yourself by breaking through it instead. 

You don’t realise you’re crying.

Not until the droplets splatter on the tiles by your feet.

—

You should’ve left days ago.

After Christmas, when you’d ducked out from under Shin’s arm and lurched for the nearest bathroom, when it’d finally clicked for him that you violently hurling your guts up wasn’t the result of a simple hangover, you’d tried. Short of admitting the truth – and swinging a bat at the bees’ nest – convincing Shin to leave his dad’s place goes about as well as drawing blood from a stone. 

He’s even less thrilled about the prospect of you going back by yourself, leaving him to spend what’s left of the week with his dad like they’d planned.

There’s only so far you can push without breaking something. You, probably. You and Shin, almost definitely. 

Even so, you might’ve had more of a backbone if he hadn’t been so… Shin. All coaxing and concerned. Logical to a damn fault. 

‘You don’t wanna be stuck in a car driving for hours when you’re feeling shitty, love, and besides, dad’s place is bigger than ours. Comfier. You’ll probably be on the mend by tomorrow anyway, so there’s no point in us heading back.’

If you weren’t trying to salvage what’s left, or maybe clinging to the idea that you can – and want to – then it would’ve been easier just to go.

You wouldn’t still be here, stuck in the house of the man who’d– who’d raped you.

You wouldn’t be avoiding your boyfriend’s eye.

You would’ve screamed the whole house down before Kuroo Tetsurou ever bent you over the kitchen counter.

But the gentle extrication in the early hours of the morning, Shinnosuke’s lips brushing against your cheek, the sleepy rasp of his voice as he mumbles a quiet, “Love you,” before slipping away – you barely stir, cozy and safe and content.

He loves you. Shin loves you. 

A while later – minutes, maybe, or hours, it’s hard to tell when you’re still in the grips of sleep – the mattress dips under Shin’s weight, and those strong, sculpted arms seek your warmth again, you only sigh and lean back against him. 

“I love you,” you whisper, not yet willing to open your eyes and face another day of lying to him. 

The arm slung over your waist curls tighter, his face nuzzling into your neck. The kisses he leaves there aren’t affectionate, exactly, they’re not gentle, when teeth catch, nipping sharply at your skin, only to be soothed by a lave of his tongue.

And the laugh that rumbles at your back – a shade off your boyfriend’s – is anything but nice. 

“Yeah? Fuck, you’re sweet in the morning.”

This time, you don’t hold back. You shriek, kicking out like a wild thing – or you would have, if Kuroo’s hand hadn’t clamped down on your mouth, if his weight hadn’t shifted so that rather than lying curled up behind you, he’s half on top of you, pinning you down to the mattress with a thigh lodged between yours. 

“Uh-uh-uh, we were doing so good, kitten. Don’t you wanna be daddy’s good girl?”

Your only answer is a ragged noise, torn from somewhere deep inside of you. He chuckles again, grinds against you, his cock a thick, unignorable presence pressed at your ass. There’s nothing but the thin cotton of your sleep shorts separating it from you, and from past experience, that barrier won’t do much to deter him for long.

Kuroo rolls you onto your back and slots himself nicely between your legs. Naked, you realise with a fresh stab of fear.

You scream the moment his palm leaves your lips to capture your wrists, scream for Shinnosuke – for anyone – so loudly that it feels like you’ll bleed for it. Let him come running, find you pinned and squirming, terrified beneath the man who raised him.

Let it be the final crack that obliterates everything. 

If Shin sees you like this, utterly petrified, on the verge of being raped again and still thinks it some kind of a betrayal, let him choke on it. You don’t care anymore, you just want someone to stop this. 

(Shin wouldn’t, would he?)

But Kuroo only snickers. Leans over to lick along the edge of your lashes, where hot, glistening tears are already spilling over, trickling down to disappear in your hairline. “Your boy’s not here, but we don’t have long ‘til he gets back. You’ll forgive me if we bypass the foreplay this morning, right, sweetheart?” You shudder, goosebumps prickling where his breath washes over you, and you squeeze your eyes shut and violently – pointlessly – shake your head. “We’ll have to save eating your pretty little cunt for next time.”

All too eager, he hungrily captures your lips again and yanks down your shorts, taking your panties along with them.

Christmas morning, you’d been shoved face down over the kitchen counter while he’d fucked you from behind. You’d give anything for that distance right now. At least then you hadn’t had to endure his suffocating warmth, having him squeeze and grope at your tits over your old, threadbare tee.

You wouldn’t have to writhe away from his mouth while he rucks your bare thighs up either side of his hips, dragging you closer.

Even with your eyes screwed tightly shut, you can’t pretend that this isn’t happening as Kuroo spits and a heartbeat later the thick head of his cock slowly – agonisingly slowly – splits you apart.

You forget how to breathe. 

Eyes popping open and back arching up into his chest, your fists clutch desperately at the sheets of Shin’s bed, trying to squirm away, only the grip he has on you makes sure there’s nowhere for you to escape to. He’s big, long, mostly, and you’re too tight to take him easily, especially without any prep. The spit doesn’t help any, and Kuroo doesn’t care, groaning out in pleasure as inch by inch he pushes himself deeper, until at last he’s seated firmly inside of you. “Good fucking giiiirl,” he purrs, a kiss pressed to the tip of your nose.

A tiny, drawn out whine is all you can manage when your lower half radiates pain. 

“Gonna fuck this perfect pussy nice ‘n full,” he tells you. “Give you everything you need, sweet girl. You can take it. I know you can, you just gotta breathe for me.”

But unlike last time, he doesn’t allow you the luxury of a minute to adjust. His hips draw back and punch forward, jolting another mewling gasp from your lips. And again. And again. The pace isn’t violent so much as intense, like each thrust ignites something inside of him that burns for more.

He clasps your wrists in one hand, pants into your open mouth between frenetic kisses, groans out your name in that shuddering gasp.

“Mine,” he pants, beads of sweat dripping from his chest, his chin, rolling down onto you. “You’re daddy’s girl– fuck!”

Your cunt reacts accordingly, flexing around his cock, easing its passage so that the wet, lurid sounds of him fucking you quickly fill the air. A betrayal that has your cheeks flaming. 

The muscles in your thighs burn, Kuroo all but forcing them back towards the bed, his weight driving into you with fervour. A quick adjustment to the angle of your hip and his cock hits a spot deep inside of you that has you choking on a moan of your own, a burst of bright, sizzling pleasure bleeding through the pain.

Kuroo grins ferally at the sound of it. Drops his weight on an elbow and bucks into you, hitting it again. Your inner walls twitch, squeezing and slick, dragging noises from you that make you wanna burn with shame – that, or cut yourself loose entirely. You can’t muster resistance when he swallows them down, sucking on your tongue, moaning into your mouth. His momentum turns rabid, his hand no longer encircling your wrists, but entangled with them, pressing them down to the mattress. “Almost… there…” he grunts, gasping as he curls over you, abs flexing.

A shudder rolls through him, his hips faltering just as something vital shatters inside of you, toes curling, white hot pleasure exploding from your core, rippling through your whole body like the aftershocks of an earthquake. With your pussy spasming around his cock, your body taut and locked with pleasure, Kuroo hurtles off that cliff right alongside you, a strangled noise somewhere between a moan and a growl escaping him as he pumps your cunt full of his seed, all but collapsing atop of you afterwards.

It takes a minute before he peels himself off of you; pushing himself up, braced on elbow so that he’s not crushing you entirely, Kuroo waits, buried inside your warmth, for you to stop trembling with the after effects of your orgasm, for his cock to soften and both of your breathing to even out. 

Waits for those glazed over eyes to focus back on him and once again fill with tears, stroking a hand through your sweat-dampened hair as he does so.

“You should go take a shower before Shin gets home,” he says after a minute or two, his voice a low purr. “He can’t be far off.”

But aside from rolling off you to allow you up, Kuroo makes no moves to follow you, or so much as get up off the bed. Naked, his cock soft and glistening with your juices, one knee propped up, he watches you stumble like a newborn foal into the bathroom (only half managing to close the door behind you) with damn near predatory intent, a smirk teasing at his lips.

It’s where Shin finds you a short while later, curled up on the floor of the shower, shaking through silent sobs. 

—

Shin doesn’t let go of your hand the entire trip home.

Uncharacteristically sober, he says little aside from the occasional murmur to check in with you – always unanswered – and keeps you tucked close, as though a fraction of distance between you might pry you from his side entirely. 

The hours pass in a haze of… nothing. Your tears dry. Numbness takes over. You move like a robot, Shin guiding you every step of the way until you cross the threshold of your apartment.

He never asks what happened. You suppose the smell of sex in his bedroom and the bruises and love bites scattered over your body tell the tale well enough. Shinnosuke’s never been stupid. He’s not dense. 

He’s not heartless, either.

In the sanctity of your tiny, shitty bathroom, you shower again. A proper shower this time, with the water turned up full blast, scrubbing viciously at your skin– or at least, you do until he steps in and takes over. You’ve never thought of your boyfriend as particularly gentle, but he pries the loofah from your hand with a delicacy you didn’t know him capable of and takes care of you, cleaning you up with a tenderness that borders on reverence.

You pretend not to notice how his eyes (so like his, sharp and hazel) narrow into a scowl every time he spots another bruise, another mark left by his father. Once or twice his fingers begin to ghost over them, burgundy fingerprints on your thigh, a love bite sucked into the delicate skin above your collarbone, only to catch himself, swallowing tightly and resuming his task like he’d never faltered in the first place. 

When you’re done, he dries you both off and helps you into fresh clothes – a pair of comfy sweatpants and an old hoodie of his and guides you back to the living room, setting you down into his lap on the couch.

“I–” his voice is hoarse. Quiet, especially in the stillness of the apartment, and when you glance his way, he awkwardly clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I went to the pharmacy. I thought– I thought…” he trails off again, dropping his gaze. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Your heart twists, and it’s your turn to comfort him. Or maybe you’re comforting each other, shifting slightly in his lap so that you can wrap your arms around him and draw him in close, burying your face in the crook of his neck and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of him. “No. I– it wasn’t…” but the words don’t come. You flounder. 

What are you supposed to say? It wasn’t his fault? Wasn’t yours?

You should’ve said something earlier? Should’ve fought back harder – against both of them, should’ve grown a spine?

A beat passes in the tense, thick silence, and when it becomes clear that you’ve got nothing for him, he makes an odd sort of huff that sounds almost irritated. You frown a little, but you don’t fight it when his arms pull tighter around you, when his cheek comes to a rest against your hair and his hands seek yours, curling around your wrists and stroking at the skin there. 

“We’ll get through this,” he vows. “I love you, this doesn’t change anything. It won’t change anything.” His lips meet the crown of your head in a soft kiss. “You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

[luveline]

Omg what about reader talking to Eddie and she just starts crying bc she's just loves him so so much and Eddie is so confused what's happening and for a sec he thinks it's bc the joke he made hurt her feelings and he's just like "baby sorry no I'm sorry ur not too chatty" and like "ur crying bc u love him? Why is that making u cry??"

“And we went back to her place and slept four to a bed. I'm surprised I had it in me, but I guess I was, you know, sixteen.” You stab a particularly nice looking roasted potato with your fork and put it on his plate. “It's kind of crazy. I couldn't do that now, I'm too old. My back would hurt too much. I can only sleep in my bed or your bed.” 

“Mine, please.” 

You laugh and give him another potato off of your plate. He already has potatoes, but this is how you are. You won't accept them back —he's tried to stop you before, with less than optimal results. “Yours for sure. I'm too full to drive.” 

“That's what I like to hear.” He pushes his plate away in case a third potato is on its way, gesturing to your food with his knife. “Is yours warm enough?”

“Sure.” You wipe your mouth with a napkin and take the sip of your shared drink with a refreshed smile. “Ah, and that's really cold.” 

“We could still do stuff like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“You know, like you and your friends did. I know we're not sixteen anymore but we can still have fun.” 

“I do have fun.” 

He shrugs and stands, picking up your empty glass to refill for you. “And we'd get to sleep in our own bed at the end,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “We'll go out this weekend and do all that fun stuff. But with fewer felonies.” 

“They weren't felonies,” you say. 

Eddie laughs as he makes his way to the sink. He loves this, having dinner with you, letting you talk his ear off. “You're nonstop tonight, baby, somebody put a quarter in you or what?” 

“Two quarters,” you say. 

He makes a drink. It can't take long. He rinses out the glass, fills it with coke, grabs a handful of ice cubes from the fridge and wipes the counter when he's done. He sits across from you as he had been, waiting to hear more of your story or maybe whatever plans you'd like to make this weekend, but he stops cold, because you're crying in your seat all quiet and secretive, looking down at your lap. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, panic shooting through him, quick and unapologetic, “Hey. Hey, what's wrong? You're crying.” 

He reaches across the table for your hand. “I wasn't trying to be mean,” he says hurriedly. “You're chatty, but you're my chatty– uh, thing, you know? Not that you're a thing. You're not a thing.” Eddie squeezes your hand, swapping panic for a more serious demand. “What's wrong?” 

“Eddie, stop,” you say. 

“You stop. What's wrong, sweetheart? You gotta tell me.” His voice fries with pleading. 

“I just love you.” 

He stares at you. “What?” 

“I love you, Eddie…” You sniff and wipe your cheek. “Sorry, I'm not trying to be a loser,” —you laugh, and his racing heart starts to settle— “just you're the only person I know who'd sit here listening to me babble and figure out what I'm trying to say. I'm so lucky. I love you so much.” 

Eddie feels a heat growing along his waterline. “Well, hey, I love you too. You're the only person I'd wanna sit and listen to. You get that?” 

“I know.” You laugh wetly. “I don't know why it made me cry, I was just thinking, you kissed me and I was thinking hey, he really loves me.” 

“I really do.” 

He gets up out of his seat to hug you. While he holds you, you thankfully ride out the short lived bubble of tears, though you do turn into his chest and splutter another I love you. 

He's shocked that someone would feel that way about him, to love him to tears, especially you. So after he's hugged you close, he peels your face away from his neck to cradle your face, locking your eyes, ensuring that what he's about to say will stick. 

“I love you,” he says, nodding, “but you're not lucky. I like listening to you talk. It's the best.” He wipes your cheeks dry tenderly. “Don't waste your tears on me.” 

“Wasn't trying to.” 

He leans down for a gentle kiss. He knows you weren't upset, but he figures you deserve a soft touch anyhow. A very, very soft touch. 

[lavendertom]

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 2

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 1, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

wc: 1.9k

warnings: none! fluff, hurt/comfort if u squint, tiny age gap (as always, lmk if there’s anything i’ve missed)

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings.

quick note, AU where nothing bad happens at the pizzeria, so we r diverging from that storyline slightly. more info to come next part :) happy reading!

——————————————————————————

“Mike! Y/n is here!” Abby shouted through the house.

You had just walked through the front door of the Schmidt house. You had been Abby’s babysitter for just over a month now, but tonight was different. It was going to be your first night shift. Mike had just started a new security gig where he had to work a few nights each week.

So far, it’s been great babysitting Abby. The two of you have grown closer, doing more and more activities together. It rarely felt like work babysitting Abby. Becoming closer to Abby meant you were also, slowly but surely, growing closer to Mike.

You were hanging up your jacket on the coat hanger next to the door, looking up just in time to see Mike standing in the hallway in front of you. He had his usual attire on: some kind of long sleeved shirt with a jacket, a pair of jeans, and some old tennis shoes. But this time, a vest sporting the phrase “security” was worn over his jacket.

“Nice halloween costume.” you said sarcastically, holding in a small laugh.

“Don’t judge.” he said sighing, rolling his eyes. “Only I can hate it.”

“I’m just messing with you. You give that vest character.” you said, playfully pushing his shoulder as you walked past each other. You headed over to Abby as she sat at the dinner table, pushing her food around on her plate. “What’s up Abs?”

“Nothing. Can you tell Mike to stop making this stuff? It sucks.” she said looking up at you.

“Thanks for the feedback, next time I’ll leave dinner all up to you.” he said as he grabbed his keys and backpack. The young girl rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at him when his back was turned. You pulled a chair to sit with Abby at the table when Mike walked over.

“You gonna be okay tonight?” Mike asked you, he placed his hands on the backs of the chairs. This was probably the 20th time he asked you this. He knew nights weren’t what you signed up for, but you were flexible and didn’t mind the change of plans.

“Yes, I promise. My parents are just across the street if we need anything.” you said with a smile.

“Alright, my phone number’s on the fridge if you need anything.” If only you knew I already had it memorized. “Abs you gotta be in bed by 9:30, you understand? You have school in the morning. Don’t give y/n a hard time.” Mike said as he ruffled Abby’s hair, kissing her head.

“Sounds like a plan.” you said, looking at Mike as he headed towards the door. “See you in the morning.”

He looked at you one last time before saying his goodbyes, shutting the door behind him. It wasn’t long before Abby had her first activity recommendation of the night.

“Can we have a movie night before bed?” she asked you. You decided to donate some of your old favorite movies to the siblings, giving Abby a whole new array of movies to choose from.

“Sure, what do you have in mind?” you asked.

“The Little Mermaid!” she squealed.

The two of you made some popcorn, even allowing Abby a cup of her favorite soda, before settling down with some cozy blankets and pillows for your movie night. You watched as the girl sat in awe at the film playing before her eyes.

You always hoped to see the day a young child’s eyes would light up from experiencing your favorite films from your childhood. You never thought that feeling would’ve come from seeing Abby experience the magic for the first time.

You both sat watching the film intently, occasionally throwing a handful of popcorn into your mouths.

“Do you ever wish you’ll find a prince like Ariel?” Abby randomly blurted out.

“Yeah, I think it would be nice.” you said, not giving much thought to the silly question. Abby often asked questions like these. “Do you?”

“I don’t think so. I’m too little.” she scrunched her nose.

“Good answer.” you said with a small laugh.

You turned your attention back to the movie, taking a sip of your drink.

“I think Mike’s still waiting for his princess.” the young girl blurted out again. This time, it caught you off guard.

“Yeah?” you asked, choking on your soda a bit.

“He’s always so sad and tired. Maybe a princess would cheer him up.”

“What kind of princess do you think he would like?”

“Someone to make him laugh. Someone who gives him a big hug when he is sad. Someone who makes better mac and cheese than he does.”

You smiled at the girl listening to her list off all of the qualifications.

“That sounds like the perfect princess Abs.”

“You would be a good princess for Mike.” she blurted yet again, eyes still on the screen, catching you off guard once more.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” you said, feeling your face warm up. You thought about that comment the rest of the night.

You somehow managed to get Abby to bed at 10, which isn’t bad considering how much she loves talking and playing with you. She went down fairly quickly, giving you the rest of the night to yourself.

You flipped through the channels on the TV, trying to stay awake, also trying not to think about Abby’s comment earlier. “You would be a good princess for Mike.” Ultimately, you failed, falling asleep to the sound of the 12am news.

At around 4:30am, you heard the sound of shuffling at the door, sitting up groggily to see what the fuss was. The door quietly opened and you heard the sound of a backpack hit the floor.

“I’m so sorry, did I wake you up?” Mike whispered.

“No it’s all good. I just kind of woke up on my own.” you replied, half lying, with a small yawn. “I tried to stay awake but the TV line up in the middle of the night isn’t fantastic.”

“You’re fine, y/n. You deserve rest while you’re on the job. You have class tomorrow anyways.” he said as he went to sit on the recliner next to the couch you laid on. You both sat in silence for a minute or two, it felt like forever. “How’d Abby do?”

“Great as always.” you said rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes. “We watched a movie, I might’ve given her a soda. She went to bed at around 10, but I don’t blame her I was her age once too.”

“That’s good. No problems?”

“When has there ever been any problems, Mike.” you said with a chuckle. More silence filled the air.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

He thought for a moment, hesitating before he spoke up. “Thank you for all you do for us. I’ve really seen a change in Abby lately and there’s no doubt you are a big part of that.”

“Of course.” you said with a smile. “Abby’s a great kid.”

“You know things haven’t been easy.” he said with a sigh. “I think you bring just a little more happiness in her life – in our lives.”

You looked at him for a moment, noticing his eyes like you did the first time you met him. They were still that shade of brown with the little green specks, but this time they were filled with sadness. He looked absolutely drained. He knew you noticed the hopelessness in the interaction.

“I’m sorry about that, didn’t mean to drop any of this on you.” he said looking down at his hands.

“Mike, it’s okay.” you said softly, reassuring him. You just honestly didn’t know what to say.

You stood up from your place on the couch, watching him sit up a little taller in his own chair.

“Come here.” you said quietly, surprised he even heard you.

He stood up, stepping towards you quietly not to wake up Abby with the creaky floorboards. Once he was right in front of you, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. It took him a second until he also put his arms around you. You rested your head on his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his shirt. You guys just stood there for a minute, you waited until he let go. You knew he needed this. You knew all of those things Abby told you earlier were true.

He finally let go, taking a small step back as your hands rested on his shoulders.

“You guys are going to be okay. I’m here for both of you.” you said looking into his eyes.

“I promise I’ll have the money by the end of the week.” he said, attempting to change the subject.

“Don’t worry about the money. You worry about you and Abby, whenever you have the money will be okay.” you said as you removed your hands from his shoulders.

“Are you sure? You have things you need to take care of too. College tuition is enough to worry about.”

“It’s okay, Mike. I’ll be fine.” you said with a soft smile. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, same time?”

“Yeah.” he said as you walked to the door grabbing your jacket. He followed behind. “Thanks again.”

He pulled you in for another quick hug, before you opened the door, waved bye, and began walking home. He stayed at the door until you safely crossed the street, like he always does, before closing it.

That morning, Abby had a lot to say about her movie night with you to Mike.

“She let me have soda before bed, Mike!” Abby exclaimed while she took a bite of her toast. “And we watched The Little Mermaid, and I asked her if she ever wished she had a prince like Ariel.”

“You know y/n is busy Abs. She has lots of homework, she doesn’t have time for princes.” Mike told his sister as he flipped through some mail. It was true though, some days you would end up doing homework during most of your time babysitting.

“She said it would be nice, then I told her that you definitely need a princess, and I told her that your princess needs to be funny and–“

“Alright Abby I think it’s time for you to go to school now.” Mike said, quickly interrupting her before she could say anymore.

“What?” she questioned him.

“Nothing.” he said standing up to grab his keys, avoiding looking at his little sister.

“I knew it! You have a crush on Y/n!” she said with a gasp.

“I do not, Abs.”

“I won’t tell her, I’ll keep it a secret, I promise!”

“Abs, I don’t have a crush on anyone. People don’t have crushes when they’re adults.”

“You’re blushing, Mike.” she said giggling as she ran to grab her backpack. When she returned, Mike was just heading out the door. Abby picked up her shoes, walking out of the door behind him.

As the pair walked to Mike’s extremely worn out Honda Accord, it just so happened you were also heading to your car just across the street. Abby took notice of this quickly, making sure not to miss this moment to embarrass her brother even more. It’s what little sisters do.

“Hey Y/n!” she shouted, making sure to drag out the ending super long.

“Hey Abby!” you shouted back. “Have a good day at school!”

“Mike say hi.” Abby said to her brother.

“Abby.” he said back, trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

“Say it now or I’ll tell Y/n you have a crush on her.”

He gave you a small wave and a smile as he unlocked the doors.

“See you guys tonight!” you said happily as you got in your car.

“You so have a crush on Y/n.” Abby said one last time, grinning, just for good measure.

[daenysx]

hi bby, i just saw your modern aemond old money moodboard and i wanted to make a request for a blurb or drabble about it, thankss :))

i hope i've done well, thank you for requesting <3333

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

it's a busy day. the busiest in the entire week, that's for sure. aemond signs another paper, huffing quietly. one more. one more hour and he will leave the office.

the screen of his phone lights up with your answer to his text. he asked if you feel like going out for dinner tonight and you sent him many virtual kisses, agreeing to his offer. his day will certainly last better when he gets to see you, sitting at a fancy table in your favorite restaurant, sipping champagne as you tell him all about your day.

when he finishes all of his stuff, he takes his suit jacket and his phone. his assistant nods him goodbye, he catches the elevator. texting you he's on his way, he settles down in the car. finally.

"hey, handsome." you greet him after sitting on the passenger seat when he pulls the car in front of the house. leaning in for a kiss, he's surrounded with your perfume, it's like taking a deep breath in fresh air. you clean up the lipstick stain you left on his lips with your fingers, he closes his eye to your touch.

"you know we could stay at home." you say, gently. "you must be tired."

"no, no, i'm fine." he quickly shakes his head. "you look perfect."

"thank you." you smile. "my husband has an excellent taste in dresses and jewellry."

he holds your hand during the short ride to the restaurant. you rub your thumb on the back of his hand, the tension on his shoulders leaving him every second of your touch.

the dimly lit atmosphere is so nice, white candles and pretty flowers are used to decorate your table. aemond orders your favorite with a bottle of champagne. he gets to see you so clearly now, across the table with your legs close to his under it.

"is everything okay at work?" you ask. he likes how attentive you are to his business, you know most of everything he does. it's good to have someone who supports him, who tells him what she thinks when he needs another pair of eyes.

"yes." he nods. "well, mostly. it's just busy, there are some new deals we gotta keep an eye on. some- opportunities, if i can manage to take them."

you squeeze his fingers on the table. "of course you'll take them."

the click of glasses, fine food, and your jokes about the conflict between mrs. tyrell and mrs. lannister at the latest organization you joined. you look so bright, his pretty girl, under the gold lights with your glowing smile.

now, he wants to return back to home, to kiss you until he stops breathing. taking every piece of lovely jewellry and your dress off, letting you cover his neck in lipstick stains, holding you on the satin sheets of your bed.

he kisses the back of your hand instead. he's more than attentive in the conversation.

cinnamon girl sleepover ♡

[kwanisms]

Truth Comes Out - h.jisung

➥ dom!Han × sub!Reader summary: Since discovering the stranger she hooked up with is her best friend's roommate, Y/N has been actively avoiding Han. wc: 13.1k (I'm so, so sorry lol) warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, alcohol consumption, sexual content (minors dni!): heavy making out, fingering, handjob, marking, a LOT of dirty talk, pet names (baby, baby girl, babe, sugar, etc), orgasm denial (m receiving), sexting/phone sex, mutual masturbation, mutual pining (they are really desperate and whiny for each other), Han is very vocal, it’s clear Han and Y/N both like each other a lot but Y/N struggles a lot with her feelings. I think that’s all but let me know if I missed anything! a/n: back by popular demand, here is the second part to Kinkuary 17! Tbh, i had this planned when I first started writing part one. I knew I wanted to leave it on a cliffhanger and make it into three parts. I had a lot of fun outlining and writing the party scene. Let me know what you think! I love feedback and hearing your thoughts! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @kosmoreads @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife Stray Kids taglist: @cixrosie @hoeforcheol @beomgyusbabygirl @lovestayskzxx @flowerboykun @smhlino Tagging @songgmingii @j1s-babygirl @chai-papa @klysaibabes @lovethatchanussy @nokacchan @dramaticnobody @youremytearr @replay-by-shinee @myprwttyhan @licklix because they asked for part two on my first part. Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. Send an ask to be tagged in part 3. Part 1 // Part 3

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“Why can’t you come over tonight again?” Felix asked as you flipped the potato pancakes over. “Because,” you said as you glanced down at your phone lying on the counter where you could see your best friend lying on his bed, holding his phone over his head as he watched you cook.

“I have some paperwork due,” you answered simply.

“And you can’t do it another day because…?” Your best friend asked, eyebrow raising. “Because my boss changed the due date again.”

Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Your boss sucks.” You snorted in laughter. "Tell me about it."

“I miss you though,” he continued, rolling onto his side. “Aww, is this you confessing your undying love to me?” You cooed, laughing when he scowled in disgust. “Ew, fuck you,” he laughed. “Uh, no thanks,” you retorted, making him roll his eyes again.

“Now that we’re settled into the apartment, I was hoping you’d come over and meet Jisung,” Felix murmured, making your shoulders stiffen. Thankfully, Felix didn’t notice or he didn’t comment on it.

“And I will,” you answered. “I just need to power through this bullshit my boss dumped on me.” Felix nodded understandingly. “You should quit that job and come work with me,” he said suddenly, making you laugh loudly.

“Hard pass.” Felix scowled at your response.

“I’ll have you know my company is a lot better than yours,” he said sternly. You rolled your eyes. “If we worked together, nothing would ever, ever get done,” you retorted, watching as your best friend considered your response.

“Yeah,” he answered finally, nodding. “You’re right.”

The timer above your oven went off and you rushed to turn it off. “That’s time,” Felix said jokingly as you returned to him. “Dinner’s ready, that means I gotta go.” Felix pouted but sighed. “Okay, just promise that you’ll clear a day for our housewarming party,” he said as you picked up your phone. “Yeah, yeah,” you replied, waving your hand. “We’ll see.”

It hurt you to lie to your best friend but it wasn’t like you could just come out and tell him why you’ve been avoiding visiting his apartment.

Ever since you’d learned that the man you’d invited into your home, the one you met on a BDSM discord server, was his roommate, you’d been vehemently avoiding going over to Felix’s new apartment.

It was bad enough that Han was his roommate and you’d slept with him not knowing he was friends with Felix, but your best friend was trying desperately to get you and Han to meet for whatever reason.

You’d been pretty good at making up excuses not to go over but you were running out of them and you knew sooner or later you’d have to go over but you opted for later rather than sooner.

Of course, he hadn't given up inviting you over to his apartment and was adamant on introducing you to his roommate. You'd done your best to turn him down, coming up with excuse after excuse, inviting him over to your place instead.

"Come on Y/N!" Felix whined over the phone. You could almost picture him, throwing his arms around lazily and dramatically. You let out a deep sigh. "I don't know Lix," you answered, chewing on your bottom lip. "I don't really want to stay in."

"Perfect!" Felix said excitedly and you imagined him with puppy ears, eyes shining with excitement. "Cause we're going out! That new club opened up down the road from my building and the hype has died down so we shouldn't have a problem getting in!"

Suddenly you wished you said you wanted to stay home.

"Oh? Who else is going?" you asked, feigning interest. "Just us," Felix answered. "I promise!"

Hearing this made your mind up for you. "Okay, that sounds fun," you replied. "Do you want to meet there?"

"Nah. Just come here. Then we can go together. I'm the only one here. Han went out with some of his friends to another club. He has a very specific vibe," Felix explained.

Your eyebrow arched suspiciously. "Aren't your friends his?" you asked, suddenly wondering if he was lying to you.

"Not all of them," Felix explained. "He went with some of his friends from work." You felt your shoulders relax. 'Then it should be safe.'

"Okay," you finally said. "I'm in."

“Yes!” Felix said excitedly. “I promise, it’ll just be the two of us.”

Felix went on to thank you profusely, telling you to be at his place around seven-ish and you'd do a small pregame before heading down the street. You hung up and started getting ready immediately, hopping in the shower first.

After getting dressed and applying some makeup, you checked yourself over in your mirror that hung by your door. It was a simple look. A black skirt that flared out and reached halfway down your thighs paired with a white long sleeved crop top.

You'd styled your hair and paired your outfit with a black clutch wristlet and black pumps. Felix hated when you wore heels around him but this wasn't about him you decided. It was about you getting out of the house and spending time with your best friend.

The trip to Felix's building was as it usually was, a bus ride and short walk and you found yourself in the lobby, greeted by a security guard who checked your name off a list. He directed you to the guest elevator and said he would send you up.

This building was much newer than yours and much more state of the art. You couldn't even imagine how much it cost to live here. Felix had a pretty great job so you suspected Han must have a pretty damn good one as well.

Inside the elevator was unlike anything you'd seen. There were no buttons save for an emergency stop and call button. No buttons labeled for the floors. When the doors shut, the elevator started to move and you suddenly understood what the guard meant by he'd "send you up."

The ride to the 10th floor was quick and uneventful as you arrived. You checked your reflection once more before stepping off the elevator and were greeted by loud bass. One of Felix's neighbors must be having a party.

As you walked down towards the end of the hall, the bass grew louder and louder. You found the correct door and knocked softly. Felix didn't answer so you tried again, albeit a little louder this time. 'Might not be able to hear me over the neighbor's party.'

The door was thrown open and you were greeted by the loud bass and a face you hadn't seen in a long time.

"Y/N!" Hyunjin said, smiling and wrapping you in a tight one armed hug, pulling you inside the very loud, very crowded, apartment. It took your brain a moment to register what was happening. Felix said you were going to a club.

He said it would just be you and yet here was almost every person in his life and some you didn't even recognize. Hyunjin led you further into the apartment and to the kitchen island where there was a spread unlike anything you'd ever seen at any of the parties you'd been to before.

You were going to kill Felix.

Bottles on bottles of liquor, some half empty but full ones set up behind, ready to take their place. Red cups and plastic shot glasses were stacked and ready to be used. On the dining room table was an impressive amount of food.

"What are you drinking?" Hyunjin asked over the bass as he leaned in to hear you. "Uh, I'm okay for now," you answered, shaking your head. Hyunjin shook his head. "Nonsense, I'll make you something."

Despite your protests, Hyunjin grabbed a clean cup and started mixing something while you looked around the crowded apartment.

You recognized a group of Felix's closest friends and sitting among them was your best friend, laughing at something one of his friends said. You narrowed your eyes as Hyunjin finished making your drink and handed it to you. "That's the best one I know how to make. Sorry if it's a little strong," Hyunjin said, giving you a wink.

You raised the glass to your face, sniffing to discern the ingredients but all you could smell was fruit and alcohol. You took a sip and winced slightly. "You're gonna kill me," you coughed, making Hyunjin laugh, his eyes closing. "Not kill. Just get you drunk!"

You felt his hand on your back, leading you through the party goers and over to where Felix was sitting on a black sofa next to Ryujin with Changbin on the other side, an arm draped across the back of the sofa behind Lia. As you approached, Hyunjin yelled over the music. "Look who I found standing outside!"

Everyone turned to look at the two of you, several faces lighting up as Felix's friends greeted you. Felix looked up and his smile fell at the look you threw him as you hugged Chris. "Wow, you look amazing!" Chris said, looking you over.

"Doesn't she look incredible?" He asked, turning to Seungmin who was sitting next to Ryujin. "She always looks amazing," he said as he stood up, moving past Chris to greet you with a hug. "Good to see you, Y/N," he said in your ear.

When he sat back down, your attention zeroed in on Felix as he got up quickly. "Hey," he said, pulling you into a hug. "You lied to me," you hissed, digging your knuckles into his side discreetly.

Felix winced, playing it off to anyone who noticed. "I know, I'm sorry," he replied as the group went back to their conversation, Hyunjin blending in smoothly as he took Felix's empty spot on the sofa.

"But you kept coming up with excuses to not come over!" Felix explained as you took a sip of your drink. "I've been putting off this house warming party for a week, trying to pick a day when you'd be free. I can't break in my new home without my best friend."

You glanced around nervously. "It's not like I'd be missed," you murmured. "How many people did you invite?" You looked up as Felix did the mental calculation. "I can't remember but a lot of these people were invited by Jisung," Felix explained, his face lighting up.

"Speaking of!" he said suddenly, grabbing your free hand and pulling you through the crowd. "Wait, Felix," you hissed as he dragged you away from the group and towards a room just off the main living area.

In what you assumed was the den, a table was set up for pong and the people surrounding were eagerly cheering on the players.

Your eyes darted around, landing on the one person you'd been avoiding this whole time.

He was standing at the end with the person you could only assume was his teammate. He looked just as good as the last time you saw him. He'd dressed for the occasion, donning a plain black loose fitted tee, tucked into black leather pants. He'd put on a simple silver chain necklace.

Felix dragged you over as Han picked up his drink watching his teammate and taking a sip.

Han looked up from his cup as Minho picked up one of the small white plastic balls and aimed. "You got this, Min," Han shouted over the music, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Yah, don't do that!" Minho shouted as he narrowed his eyes.

Han caught sight of Felix moving through the crowd towards him and smiled. He was accompanied by a girl but Han couldn't see her face. Perhaps this was the infamous best friend? Had she finally agreed to show up? Han turned back as Minho took the shot.

His aim was true as managed to bounce the ball in one of the three cups remaining on the opposing side. The entire crowd erupted into applause and cheers as Han laughed at the look on his opponents' faces. Yunho was shocked as Mingi begrudgingly picked up the cup and chugged the contents.

"This ain't over yet!" Yunho shouted, pointing at Han who laughed.

"Han!" He turned as he heard his name came from behind him, feeling a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Felix standing behind him with the same girl attempting to hide out of sight. He smiled at his roommate before Felix spoke.

"I wanted to introduce you to my best friend!"

Han's smile widened. 'She finally made it!'

"Oh?" Han asked, trying and failing to conceal his excitement. "She's finally here?" Felix nodded, turning towards the girl behind him.

"What are you-? Stop hiding," Felix laughed as he put his arm around the girl and pulled her forward. "Y/N, this is my roommate, Han Jisung."

"Han, this is Y/N."

Han had heard so much about his roommate's best friend from the man himself and was beyond excited to finally meet her so he was expecting anyone but… you.

His eyes widened, lips parting as he felt his stomach nearly fall out of his ass. He never expected to see you, the girl he'd hooked up with and then been ghosted by, again. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that when you looked up at him with a pained expression, it made his heart sting.

It was almost as if you were sorry. Or maybe it was shame? Or perhaps even embarrassment? Han couldn't be entirely sure but one thing was certain.

He was fucked.

When your eyes met Han's you could see his thoughts moving at the speed of light. He was running through every possible scenario. Felix looked expectantly at his roommate, waiting for a response.

"Dude, you okay?" Felix asked, drawing both yours and Han's attention. Han finally snapped out of it and tore his gaze from your face. "Yeah, sorry," he said sheepishly. "Oh, isn't she a cute one," Han's pong partner said suddenly, smirking at you.

"I'd be speechless too," he added, nudging Han. "She's gorgeous." You felt your cheeks burn at the stranger's compliment. He leaned forward, holding his hand out which you took hesitantly. "I'm Minho," he announced over the music. "Y/N," you answered, shaking his hand firmly. "Y/N? God, even your name is cute."

Your cheeks burned even more at the attention Minho was giving you. You glanced at Han who was side-eyeing his friend with… 'wait is that jealousy? Is he jealous?' Felix wrapped an arm protectively around your shoulders. "Back off, Min," he warned jokingly.

"Oh?" Minho asked, grabbing his cup and downing the rest of his drink. "Is she spoken for?" he asked, smirking at Felix who shook his head. "What? No! She's my best friend. We're like siblings," Felix added. Minho's smirk softened into a smile.

"I'm just teasing. We all know you only have eyes for Momo," Minho said, making those around you snicker as Felix tried to defend himself. Minho turned his attention on you once more, leaning in. "Could you be a doll and get me a refill? Pretty please?" he asked, tucking a stray of hair behind your ear.

"Yah, Minho!" Han suddenly shouted. "She's not a server," he continued as several pairs of eyes fell on him. "Yeah, get your own drink," Felix added. Minho sighed, turning to take his cup from you. "Pause the game," he called but you snatched the cup from him.

Anything to escape Han's gaze.

"I'll get it," you said quickly, ignoring the way both Felix and Han eyed you. Minho merely smiled, reaching up to stroke your cheek. "Good girl," he said before turning back to the game.

You turned away and darted through the crowd, missing the way Felix looked impressed by both Minho's and your boldness but Han looked downright furious.

You made your way through the crowd to the kitchen and started to fix a drink for Minho, shaking off your apprehension and nerves. You felt a body lightly bump into you and looked up to see Jeongin smiling sheepishly at you.

"Innie! How are you?" you asked, smiling at him.

"I'm good," he answered as he watched you mix the drink. "Who is that for?" he asked, nodding at the cup. "Minho? I think he’s Han- Jisung's friend," you answered as you picked up the now full cup.

Jeongin's eyebrow raised as he watched you. "Oh? Didn't know you were making drinks for Minho," he teased, prompting you to pinch his arm.

"It's stuffy in there and he asked me to," you explained as you wove through the crowd, Jeongin on your heels.

Inside the den, the previous game had finished with Han and Minho winning and now facing new opponents: Felix and Changbin.

You returned to Minho who turned and smiled as you handed him his cup. "It might be a little strong," you said as he took a sip. "Jeongin distracted me," you added, throwing a playfully dirty look at the culprit who merely smiled at you.

Minho shook his head. "No, it's perfect, thank you," he answered, setting it down and sending a wink your way. Han looked from his friend to you, meeting your gaze. His expression was hard to decipher but he soon turned away to start the game.

You turned to Jeongin, talking with him as the new round started. "So, how's college?" you asked. He shrugged before answering. "Expensive, stressful, and probably going to put me in debt for the rest of my life." You laughed loudly at his reply.

"Sounds about right."

Han couldn't stop himself from glancing in your direction every time you laughed at something Jeongin said. It was clear you knew the younger man and that was probably thanks to Felix.

"Who's your friend, Innie?" A voice asked. When Han looked over, he noticed one of Jeongin's tall friends- Beomgyu was it?- had slid up to the two of you and currently had one arm resting on Jeongin's shoulder, smiling at you. "This is Y/N," Jeongin introduced.

"Nice to meet you Y/N. I'm Beomgyu," he said, wincing as one of his friends bounced up next to him and behind you. "I'm Kai!" he said excitedly, making you laugh.

God, your laugh. Han loved it. He hadn't heard it since that day and hearing it now was like music to his ears. He wasn't lying when he had told Felix how much he missed you. Of course, Felix didn't know it was you he missed. To Felix it was Baby.

His eyes trailed over your body, remembering how it felt to have his hands on it. He remembered how you reacted to him, almost as if your body was made to fit with his. He'd thought of nothing but you since then. Whenever he needed to get off, he imagined the way you looked bent over, restrained, and at his mercy.

He'd looked at the pictures he'd taken that day over and over again. True to his promise, none of them had your face in them, something he missed greatly. He missed your eyes and the way they looked at him as he ate you out. The way your lips looked and felt.

And your tongue? God did he miss your tongue.

He'd tried to reach out, messaging you on both instagram and discord but his messages went unanswered. He didn't really question it when you disappeared from the server a few days after hooking up. You'd been interested in anonymous sex and you'd gotten that from him so your membership in the server wasn't needed. He understood that.

But when you didn't answer his direct messages, he started to wonder if maybe he'd done something wrong. Offended or hurt you in some way that you didn't speak up about. Maybe you weren't serious when you said you'd have to invite him back over.

Worse case scenario, it wasn't as good for you as it was for him.

Han was snapped out of his thoughts as the crowd on the other side of the table cheered. He looked down and saw one of the cups in front of him had a little white ball that previously wasn't there.

Looking up, he saw Felix celebrating. Han glanced at Minho who regarded him with a confused expression. Han shook his head and picked up the cup, downing the liquid inside.

As he did, his eyes shifted to the side where you were engrossed in a deep conversation with Beomgyu, Kai, Jeongin and a couple other people he vaguely knew. The coil in the pit of his stomach tightened, a sour feeling bubbling up. He recognized this feeling.

It was jealousy.

"You're so cute!" Beomgyu cooed, cupping your cheeks gently, laughing as you pushed him off playfully. "Don't tease her!" Jeongin whined, trying to shield you from his friend.

"Ooh, this is a good song!" one of Beomgyu's friends, whose name you learned was Soobin, said perking up. Another of Beomgyu's friends, Yeonjun, who had squeezed into the circle between you and Beomgyu, smiled as he looked at you.

"Do you wanna dance?" he asked, catching you off guard.

"Aww I was gonna ask her that!" Kai pouted, making Yeonjun chuckle. "I'll only keep her for a bit, Kai," he offered before turning back to you. "So how about it?" he asked, tilting his head.

Jeongin took your glass. "I'll hold this," he said with a smirk as you glanced around. "O-okay," you answered. Another one of Beomgyu's friends, Taehyun, held his hand up. "If you don't want to, it's okay. Yeonjun can be kind of…" he trailed off.

"Kind of what?" Yeonjun asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

You shook your head. "It's okay, Tae," you answered. "I'll dance with you," you added, looking at Yeonjun who lit up. He took your hand and led you out of the room. You were so focused on following him that you didn't notice the look on Han's face.

One dance turned into two and then three before you finally had to stop and get something to drink. You promised Kai you would dance with him after getting a new drink since Jeongin finished yours.

You were looking through the bottles, trying to find the same stuff Hyunjin had thrown together, half tempted to ask him to make it again when you felt a hand on your lower back.

You looked up from the counter to find Han standing next to you. You suddenly felt nervous in his presence as sparks erupted under your skin where the warmth of his hand was bleeding through your top.

"Hey," he said as he smiled at you. You glanced around nervously before looking back down at the counter. "Hey."

Han watched as you mixed something together, avoiding his gaze. He'd come for a fresh bottle of beer but found himself leaning against the counter while watching you work.

"Look," he finally said, breaking the awkward tension between you. "I'm sorry," you blurted out, making him freeze. You looked up at him finally, finding him already looking at you.

"For not responding to your messages," you clarified. "I've just been… off," you continued. Han shook his head, giving you a smile.

"You don't have to explain," he said, moving to stand closer. "If you wanted it to be a one time thing, that's fine. That was the deal, right?" He asked, one hand moving to rest on the small of your back. 'Is… is that what he thinks?'

"Han, I-" he cut you off before you could finish. "It's okay. We can just let it go. If you'd rather pretend it didn't happen-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "I don't want that." Han's eyes widened. "Y-you don't?" he asked softly, voice barely audible over the music. "I don't want to pretend it didn't happen," you repeated.

Your eyes met, staring at each other in the middle of a party like no one else was even there. It was like you had tunnel vision and all you could see was him. Like he was the only thing that mattered.

Han's eyes dipped down to your lips and back up to meet your gaze. Your eyes did the same. It was clear what you both wanted and you would have given in if it weren't for the arm that suddenly went around your shoulders.

"There you two are!" Felix said loudly as he draped an arm over both yours and Han's shoulders. "I was wondering where my favorite girl and the best roommate I've ever had went," he added, smiling at you. It was clear he'd had a little too much to drink and was more than tipsy.

You smiled sheepishly. "Yeah," you said, holding up your cup. "I just needed a drink." Han forced a smile, clearly annoyed that Felix had interrupted the moment between the two of you. "Well, now that you've got it, come join us," Felix said, giving you a slight shake.

Han wanted so desperately to ask Felix to give the two of you a second but he didn't want to draw attention or arouse suspicion so he begrudgingly followed along as Felix led you away from the drink station and into a circle around the sofa.

He watched as Felix pulled you down to sit between him and Jeongin, leaving Han to sit across from you in an empty space on the ottoman next to Chris who had Sana perched on his lap. "What's this about?" Changbin asked from his spot between Lia and Seungmin. "You summoned us here."

Felix shook his head. "I’m just the messenger," he answered. "You can ask them why," he added, nodding at Chris and Sana. "Well, mainly me," Sana said, holding up her hand. "I thought we could throw it back and play a classic party game," she explained.

"I swear to god," Yeonjun groaned as he leaned on the couch behind you. "If this is Truth or Dare, I'm leaving right now." Momo, who was sitting next to Chris and Sana chimed in. "It is Truth or Dare," she started.

"But with a twist."

Han tried to listen to Momo as she spoke but his eyes were focused on you and the way Yeonjun loomed over your figure. You didn't seem to mind, even when he briefly massaged your shoulders while Momo explained the rules.

"It's simple. On your turn, you chose either truth or dare," Momo explained, Sana chiming in halfway through. "And if you don't want to do the one you pick, you have to drink," she added. "So everyone playing needs drinks." There was a mild scramble as those without drinks got up to get refills. "What if you aren't playing?" Jeongin asked, raising his hand.

"Then get out of the circle," Sana said with a shrug. Jeongin apologized and got up, leaving the space beside you empty. Han was tempted to take it but he wasn't fast enough and someone else dropped onto the sofa beside you.

"I don't think we've met," the man who had just dropped into the seat next to you said, drawing your attention. Han didn't know him personally, only that he was friends with both Yeonjun and Changbin. "I'm Wooyoung." The man, Wooyoung, held his hand out.

A polite smile crossed your face as you took his hand. "Y/N," you replied shortly. Yeonjun behind you flicked Wooyoung's forehead. "Leave her alone, Woo. She's not going home with you," he saw in an annoyed tone. Wooyoung held his hand over his forehead and whined. "Well, she might have if you hadn't interjected!"

You smiled politely again at Wooyoung. "No," you replied, shaking your head. "I wouldn't have." Everyone around you burst into laughter and Wooyoung grumbled, whining under his breath until Yeonjun kicked him out of the spot and took it from him as the rest of the players settled down with their drinks.

Han recognized San as Wooyoung moved to sit beside him, Yeosang watching from outside the circle with Jongho. Yeosang was one of his department leads, Jongho working with them as well.

His attention was drawn back to the circle as the coffee table was cleared and used as the pedestal for the bottle and Momo started the game. She spun the bottle, waiting until it stopped landing on…

“Lee Chan!” She said, pointing to the man sitting to the left of Yunho. “Uh, present,” he said, a slight question in his tone. “Truth or dare?” Momo asked, waiting patiently for him to respond.

“Uh, sorry, I’m pretty a boring guy. Truth.”

Han zoned out as Momo asked her question, his eyes landing on you sitting wedged between Felix and Yeonjun, the latter who was leaning in, whispering in your ear. You giggled as he spoke before looking mildly scandalized and slapping his arm while he laughed.

It made the ugly beast in his chest surface, growling angrily.

The game quickly progressed into a game of daring people to kiss each other before the bottle landed on Felix, having been spun by Yeonjun. "Dare," Felix said, sitting forward to look around you at Yeonjun. "Dare you say?"

"Yeah, and make it a good one," Felix answered. "None of this kissing shit. That's so cliché." Several people shouted in protest, quieted only by Yeonjun holding his hand up. "Okay," he said, scooting forward to sit on the edge of his seat.

"Your dare comes with a choice. You have to give a lap dance," Yeonjun began, smirking devilishly as the circle laughed and whooped. Yeonjun held his hand up. "I haven't finished!"

The group fell silent waiting for the rest of the dare.

"You have to give a lap dance to either your roommate," he continued, all eyes turning to Han who chuckled nervously. "Or," Yeonjun said, turning to look at Felix. "Your best friend."

Han felt his throat go dry as all eyes fell on you sitting beside Felix who was contemplating his choices.

"I guess I'll pick Y/N," Felix said, wincing when you slapped his arm. "I wouldn't be able to look Han in the face afterwards if I picked him," he explained as you glared at him angrily.

One of their dining chairs appeared and was placed in the circle as the coffee table was pushed aside. Felix got to his feet and held out his hand for you to take. Your face flushed as you reluctantly took his hand, letting him pull you up and lead you over to the chair.

You took the seat, looking around nervously as Yeonjun held onto your drink, the latter smirking as the show started. Han found himself looking away as the others laughed, some covering their eyes and a few of the girls screaming.

Luckily Felix didn't draw it out too long, laughing as he pulled you up from the chair and pulled you into a hug while you hid your face in your hands.

Felix whispered in your ear as he hugged you, no doubt apologizing for what he just put you through. As the two of you sat back down, the bottle was spun by Ryujin on the other side of Yeonjun.

Han watched as it spun around, slowing before it stopped completely, the opening of the bottle facing away from Han. He looked up to see it had landed on you instead. You were unable to hide your surprise.

“Y/N! Finally,” Ryujin said excitedly as she waited for you to choose. Your response was swift, picking Truth after that last Dare had clearly traumatized you.

Ryujin looked deep in thought as she chose her question carefully.

"Hmmm, okay!” She clapped her hands together before pointing at you with both of her hands. “Have you ever slept with anyone in the circle?"

The question caught the attention of everyone in the group, especially Han. He wondered at that moment if you'd slept with any of Felix's friends before and if you had, did Felix know?

Han half expected you to take a drink from your cup but was surprised when you answered instead with a nod. The uproar was almost instantaneous, several people demanding to know who.

Ryujin nodded, a mischievous look on her face. "Of course, of course,” she said while nodding. “We should have expected you and Felix to have hooked up at some point," she said nonchalantly with a shrug.

At her accusation, you and Felix shook your heads quickly, both protesting in unison. "Absolutely not!" You said, sounding mortified. Felix was just as adamant.

"No really, we've never had sex. The only sleeping we do together is taking naps," he explained. You nodded profusely in agreement. Ryujin turned to look at you. “If it wasn’t Felix, then who was it?” She asked. Han noticed how you froze at the question.

You chuckled nervously and passed your drink to Yeonjun. "Uhh… I need to use the bathroom," you said, getting to your feet, ignoring the question entirely.

Once you disappeared, Han heard Sana speak.

"You're for real? You've really never slept with Y/N?" She asked. Han turned to look at Felix who shook his head again. "Really. She's my best friend. I don't see her that way," he answered. Yeonjun suddenly spoke up, turning to look at Felix.

"I certainly see her that way," he said, ignoring the whistles around him. "Do you care if I-" Han had heard enough.

"Wait, where are you going?" Momo asked as he got to his feet. "Bathroom," he grumbled. "Y/N's in there," Sana reminded him.

"I have an en-suite," he simply said as he set his beer on the end table and walked away from the group. He wound through the crowd, making his way through the apartment. It was true, he did have an en-suite bathroom but that's not where he was going.

The bass was muffled surprisingly well with the bathroom door shut as you washed your hands under the sink. Glancing up at your reflection, you sighed, taking in your tired eyes.

'Maybe I should go home… I think I've been here long enough. Surely Felix doesn't need me here now.'

Your internal monologue was interrupted by a knocking on the door.

Jumping slightly, you sighed and called out. "Hang on!" You finished rinsing the soap off your hands and shut the water off, drying your hands with the towel as another series of knocks sounded, this time much louder than before. 'Fucking impatient, drunk people.'

You unlocked the door and were in the process of opening it when the door was forced open and shut quickly, leaving you face to face with…

"Han?" you asked as he locked the door.

He only looked at you for a second before he closed the distance between you, hands grabbing your hips as his lips crashed against yours, guiding you back to the sink counter. Your hands grabbed his shirt, holding on as he pushed you against the counter.

"Fuck, I missed you," he growled, grinding against you as his lips trailed down your neck. "H-Han," you whispered in a shaky breath.

"We can't. Not here," you mumbled as his lips moved back up, stopping by your ear. Han didn't seem to hear you. Or he didn't care.

"You're all I've been able to think about," he continued, kissing along your jaw as his hands wandered, one moving to the small of your back, the other sliding down to your thighs, nails digging into your skin.

"Han," you warned, your voice wavering as his lips brushed over your pulse point.

"I just want to turn you around and bury myself inside you."

You let out a soft moan as Han's hand moved up your thigh, sneaking under your skirt and finding your lace covered clit easily. His fingers pushed the fabric of your panties against you and you knew he could feel the wetness that seeped through the material.

"Shit," he groaned, moving both hands to push you up to sit on the counter, fingers tracing over your slit. "You're so wet."

Your hands moved, one tangling in his hair as you pulled him to meet your lips in a searing kiss, his thumb pulling your panties aside and fingers seeking your wet heat, sinking two fingers inside your warm cunt with a sigh. You, on the other hand, were already a writhing mess as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you.

It was slow at first, but soon he was moving at a steady pace, curling his fingers up against the soft spongy spot inside you. "H-Han," you moaned, your free hand moving to undo his pants, slipping your fingers under the waistband of his underwear.

Your fingers wrapped around his hardened length, making him gasp out a moan, eyes fluttering shut as you started to pump your hand along his cock in time with the thrust of his fingers. "Oh fuck, baby," he moaned. "You're gonna kill me."

Your lips found his again in a sloppy kiss as you both tried to get the other off desperately. "Shit. You're so wet and tight. Just like last time," Han whispered, brow furrowing as your hand squeezed him firmly. "Bet you'd take my cock just as well, too."

Your cheeks burned, face flushing as he spoke. "Would you like that, baby?" Han asked softly. "You want me to bend you over the sink and fuck you where everyone could overhear?"

You moaned a little louder, walls clenching around his fingers as you spread your legs a little wider. You felt his thumb drag over your clit, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts. "Hannie," you mewled as his fingers pushed you closer and closer to the edge. "So close."

Han moaned, hips bucking into your hand as you lazily stroked him. "You gonna cum for me, baby girl?" he cooed. "Gonna be my good little girl and cum for me?"

You whined in response, knees and thighs squeezing his waist as your orgasm came rolling over you. "That's it," Han whispered, fucking you through your high with his fingers as you continued to jerk him off.

"Keep going, baby. You're doing so good," Han whispered, his voice taking on a much more breathless and whiny tone.

A loud knock at the door pulled you both out of your bubble and you suddenly remembered you were in the middle of a housewarming party at your best friend's apartment.

And here you were, hooking up with his roommate again.

Had you not learned your lesson?

"Sorry," you called out trying to keep your voice stead even though Han's fingers were still stuffed inside your pussy. "I might be a minute. Not feeling well." A shuffling outside the door indicated whoever it was had left. "We're gonna get caught," you hissed at Han, pulling your hand from his underwear and pushing his hand away from your sex before you hopped off the counter.

Han's hands turned you to face the mirror, grabbing your hips and grinding against your ass. "We shouldn't be doing this," you moaned as his hands moved, sliding up to grope your chest over your shirt as he continued to grind his erection into your ass, his lips ghosting over your neck. "Please baby," he whispered.

His hands moved back down to your hips, holding you still as he rutted against you, lips continuing to kiss your neck, teeth grazing your skin. You braced yourself against the sink, fully ready to let Han take you from behind when there was a loud thump against the bathroom door. "Fuck," you hissed. "We can't do this."

You turned around, Han catching you and taking your lips in a breathtaking kiss, one hand holding your hip, the other cupping your cheek tenderly. "My room is just down the hall," he mumbled but you shook your head. "I'm sorry," you answered. "S'too risky."

Han's lips pressed against yours repeatedly, small pleas slipping out between as he begged you.

"Please" kiss. "Baby. I'll be quick" kiss. "I promise" kiss. "Please baby" kiss. "Please?"

You shook your head again. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, pushing him back. Han pulled you closer, kissing you again. "Please stay, Y/N," he murmured. "Don't go." You kept shaking your head.

"I can't... We can't… I-I have to go."

Deciding to act before he could stop you, you darted for the door, unlocking and exiting, leaving Han in the bathroom. You held back tears as you rushed through the apartment, heading for the door but nearly fell back when you ran straight into someone.

Looking up, you were greeted by the smile of your best friend, a smile that dropped almost instantly as he noticed your state. "Whoa, what happened?" he asked, looking you over. You gave him a weak smile. "I'm just not feeling well," you answered.

Felix immediately launched into concerned mode, feeling your forehead and cheeks. "You want me to get you some medicine?" he asked as he guided you to the kitchen to get some water. You shook your head. "It's okay. I think I just want to go home."

Felix shook his head. "Nonsense," he scoffed. "You can just sleep in my bed with me-," he began but you cut him off. "No offense, Lix, but I really just want to go home." His face fell a little but he seemed to understand. He loved his bed very much and knew how much you loved yours.

"Then let me walk you," he offered but you shook your head again. "You're too drunk," you countered. "I'll be fine. I'll text you the moment I get home."

You saw, over his shoulder, Han emerge from the hallway and you hastily added an "I promise."

Felix didn't have the opportunity to respond as you kissed his cheek and darted for the front door, yanking it open and stepping out into the hallway. Once the door shut behind you, it was much easier to breathe. You were grateful the elevator was already on the same floor as you stepped onto the lift and rode it down to the lobby.

You were able to make it from the lobby to your bus stop and from the bus station to your apartment in what seemed like record time.

Once in the comfort of your apartment, you sent Felix a text that you got home safely as you started to undress. After getting into your pajamas, you noticed you had some messages from discord. They were all from Han, apologizing and pleading with you to come back.

It was too late now. You were at home and in bed.

Turning your phone on Do Not Disturb, you flipped it screen down and rolled over on your bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You'd given in to your stupid temptation and really screwed up but one question remained: how much did you screw up?

It had been a couple days since the party and the incident between you and Han in the bathroom and suffice it to say, you could not get him out of your mind.

The way his fingers felt as they moved in and out of you, his lips against yours and how he nipped and sucked on your skin, leaving behind the smallest of marks you had to cover with makeup.

You could vividly remember how he sounded as he begged you, how his hips moved, bucking into your touch to chase his own high. You felt absolutely awful for leaving him so close to orgasm but you panicked. You were in the bathroom in the middle of a party.

You were terrified that someone was bound to notice that you left the bathroom and then Han left shortly after and word would get back to Felix but he never said anything. Maybe you were okay.

Han had texted you a handful of times that night, alternating between apologizing and begging you to let him come see you.

You left them unanswered because you knew it would be a mistake. You had both been drinking and you chalked your encounter up to that reason. You were drinking and alcohol makes you horny.

That's all there was to it. It had to be.

You heard your phone buzz in your desk drawer and chose to ignore it. You had approximately half an hour left at work before you could clock out and return home for the weekend and hide in your apartment.

You didn't often go into the office as your job was more remote work than anything but occasionally you were required to come in for meetings with potential clients and for quarterly meetings.

You glanced at the clock on your desk, sitting next to the framed photo you had of you and Felix during your last trip to Australia. His smiling face reminded you of why you couldn't own up and tell him that you'd slept with his roommate.

It wasn't like this was the first time you'd done something like this.

[flashback to a few years back]

You woke up, blinking away the sleep as you peered around your surroundings and took in where you were. It was a bedroom you didn't recognize so you weren't sure whose it was.

As you attempted to roll over, you were stopped by a firm chest and realized an arm was draped over your waist. A rather muscular arm.

You glanced back and saw you were in bed with… Changbin.

Your heart raced as you tried to remember the events of the party from last night. It was mostly a haze but you suddenly remembered Felix joining a game of pong with some of his friends and you were left to your own devices and someone came up and asked why you weren't dancing.

That wasn't the first time you'd met Changbin but it was the first time you danced with him. As the night went on and you downed more drinks than you could keep track of, you could vaguely remember how simple conversation turned into more.

Changbin started whispering dirty things in your ear in an attempt to make you blush and fluster you but he didn't imagine you to say yes and agree to go back up to his room with him. And to be quite frank, neither did you.

It was still all a blur but you did remember kissing, stumbling, and pulling at each other's clothes. You remembered his head between your thighs, giving you some of the best head you'd ever had in your life and then the way he held you in place as he fucked you against the mattress. It was some of the best sex you'd had in college but the next morning you were horrified by what you'd done.

You'd slept with one of Felix's friends. You'd gotten stupid drunk and slept with Changbin. The gravity of the situation hit you the morning after as you tried to shimmy out from under Changbin's strong hold on you and slide out of his bed.

He grumbled sleepily as you managed to pull yourself free and started looking for your clothes from the night before. You found your panties and pulled them on before grabbing your jeans and pulling them on and started searching for your shirt, finding it clear over by the door.

You had just pulled it on when you heard Changbin mumble.

"Where you going?"

You looked up at him, he was propped up on his elbow, looking at you from under a mop of fluffy, wavy dark hair with sleepy eyes. His face was slightly puffy from sleeping and a small pout was on his lips. "Oh, I was just…" you trailed off as he sat up fully.

"Trying to sneak out?" He asked with a smirk. "Sorry," you murmured. Changbin shook his head, falling back onto the bed, the covers bunched at his waist. "I was hoping we could go for round two this morning," he said softly as he stretched his arms over his head. You grimaced at the soft tone in his voice.

He was a right contrast from last night, whispering dirty things in your ear as his hand wandered between your thighs and over your ass. "I don't know," you replied, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. Changbin rolled onto his side, resting his head in his hand. "You weren't this shy last night," he noted.

He was right. As the events of the night prior came back, you could remember flirting back and even whispering some of the dirty thoughts you had as well. You were already screwed, having slept with Changbin once. What was one more round?

[present time]

Felix hadn't been entirely upset with you sleeping with Changbin in college. He'd just ask that you not do it again as he laughed and waved off your concern. And yet, here you were. Doing it again.

Granted, it wasn't like you knew Han was his friend and roommate before sleeping together. You'd never met the guy before. So Felix couldn't fault you entirely for the way things happened.

Could he?

You sighed again, eyes still on the photo. It was one of your favorite memories, spending most of the day at one of the many beaches in Sydney after meeting up with Felix’s sisters.

The buzzing of your phone pulled your attention back to your work and you shook your head as if trying to shake the thoughts from your head. You had work in front of you to finish. You couldn’t afford to daydream about the past.

Han sighed, staring at his phone screen, the most recent messages he sent you staring back at him pathetically. ‘Man, you really fucked this up, didn’t you?’

He hadn’t planned on coming to the bathroom during the party. He didn’t know what came over him but the moment you opened the door, he acted before his brain could catch up.

His body acted on instinct alone, pushing all rational thought from his mind. He wanted you so bad and the alcohol wasn’t helping either. Neither did the short skirt you wore that was so easy to slip his hand under.

He’d been fully ready to bend you over the sink and take you right there, fueled by his lust for you and the drinks he’d had. That had to be it, right?

And as quickly as it started, it ended. He never did find out who was banging on the door. If he had, he was sure he would have given them a piece of his mind.

When he’d managed to compose himself and exit the bathroom, he didn’t see anyone waiting to use the bathroom and he cursed whoever interrupted. By the time he managed to squeeze through the crowd back into the living area, he saw you heading for the door but wasn’t fast enough to catch you.

Even weaving through the crowd and slipping out into the hall proved to be fruitless, the elevator doors shut before he managed to reach them and just like that, you were gone.

He returned to the party, having half a mind to head to your place but he didn’t want to push any boundaries. He resorted to texting you, begging you to come back or offering to go to you to finish what you both started.

His texts went unanswered and he wondered if he’d crossed a line with you but he remembered that your hand was in his pants. You had to have wanted it as much as he did. If that was true, then why were you avoiding him?

Han groaned, flipping his phone face down as Felix entered the apartment through the front door. His roommate eyed him curiously, noticing the phone on the kitchen island that Han currently sat at.

“Everything alright?” Felix asked as he slipped his shoes off and headed into the kitchen, setting the black plastic bag he carried on the counter. Han lifted his head from his arms and gave his roommate a guarded look.

“You remember that girl I hooked up with a while ago?” He asked. ‘Your best friend.’

Felix nodded. “The one who let you restrain her?” Felix asked, opening the plastic bag and pulling out the items he’d picked up from the store on his way home. Han nodded as he watched Felix. “Yeah,” he answered.

“Is she still ignoring your messages?” Felix asked, turning to look at him. Han nodded again, silently as he picked at the peeling black polish on his nails. “I’m sorry man,” Felix said with a sigh as he put the beef he’d purchased away.

“I know you said you really liked her.”

Han nodded again. “I do really like her,” he murmured as Felix put the plastic bag away to recycle. “Even when she doesn’t answer your messages?” He asked, leaning on the counter.

Han nodded yet again. “Even then, I still really like her.”

Felix let out another deep sigh, letting his head drop before he gathered his thoughts and stood up straight. “Then call her.”

Han’s gaze snapped up to meet his roommates. “Or better yet,” Felix said with a smirk. “You know where she lives. Go see her.” Han shook his head furiously. “No. I think that would cross a line. Especially if she doesn’t want to see me.”

Felix frowned as Han continued picking at his nails. “Then just call her. The worst she can do is not pick up.” Han sighed, still looking dejected. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Felix stared at his roommate, unsure of how to help him.

They had gotten pretty close before moving in together so Felix clearly cared about him. He’d hoped that meeting you would make Han forget about the ghost girl and focus instead on you. That was his entire reason for introducing the two of you in the first place.

Felix turned and moved to the pantry, opening the door and stepping inside to find the one thing he knew might cheer his friend up. He found the box on a shelf in the back, hiding behind the cans of soup and grabbed it.

He returned to the kitchen, setting the box down on the counter with a loud thud and smiled at Han as he looked up. Han’s eyes widened comically as he looked at the box and back up at Felix a small smile on his face.

Brownies.

Felix did most of the work. Normally he’d make brownies from scratch but he didn’t have all the ingredients he needed and this was an emergency. Han mostly watched as Felix mixed the batter together and only helped when it was time to pour and put the pan in the oven. He also helped clean up by licking the cake spatula while Felix washed the bowl.

“Can I ask you something?” Felix asked as he dried the bowl while Han sat on the kitchen island reading the tub of icing. Han looked up at him. “Hmm?” He hummed in response as Felix put the now dry mixing bowl away and turned to face him.

“What do you think of Y/N?” Felix watched as Han’s cheeks turned pink and he suspected his hunch was right. “Why do you ask?” Han asked, turning his focus back to the tub of chocolate icing.

Felix shrugged, moving to take the tub from him. “I mean, you two seemed to get along at the party and I’ve been trying to introduce the two of you for a while now,” he answered, setting the icing on the counter and looking up at Han.

Despite the pink in his cheeks, Han shrugged. “She seems cool. To be honest, we didn’t get to talk much,” he answered. “Minho was all over her for getting him that drink and then she was with Jeongin and his friends after that.”

There was something in Han’s voice. Something Felix had a hard time deciphering but it sounded an awful lot like jealousy. “Y/N and Jeongin are just friends,” Felix said as he shifted his weight to his other foot, leaning against the counter next to Han. “Oh? Well, she was also pretty cozy with Yeonjun.” Han pouted.

Felix nodded, fighting the urge to smile. ‘Yep. That’s jealousy.’

“Yeah. Yeonjun was kind of all over her but I don’t think there’s much there,” Felix replied. “Yeonjun isn’t exactly Y/N’s type.” Han glanced at Felix, quiet for a moment before asking. “What’s her type?”

Felix let the smile spread this time as he looked at his friend. “Why? Are you interested?” He asked.

The way Han sputtered and vehemently denied it told Felix everything he needed to know. Han liked you and he was more determined than ever to hook the two of you up. Whatever it took.

The clock read half past five when you finally left the office, purse in hand as you exited the elevator into the lobby. You were extremely grateful you wouldn’t have to return to the office again for a while and would be able to do the rest of your work from the comfort of your own home.

The trip home was uneventful, taking the bus to the train station and riding that to your stop. You often wished you could afford an apartment in one of those nice high rises near your job but it was just too expensive.

Upon arriving home, you removed your shoes, cursing as you put them away, glad to not have to wear those again for a while. You decided on the way home to stop and grab something to eat rather than make something.

Going into the office was much more taxing than you remembered.

Once changing out of your uncomfortable office attire, you settled on your couch with your food, a glass of wine, and turned on your tv to watch the latest episode of the show you were currently obsessed with.

You wondered if Felix was caught up and looked around for your phone before remembering you left it in your purse. Grumbling, you got up and set your food on the coffee table, walking over to where you left your purse on the counter to reach inside and grab your phone before returning to your seat.

As you unlocked the screen, your eyes fell on the latest notification from Han.

Hanji: if you want me to stop messaging you, i will.

You quickly pulled up his messages and scrolled up to read the ones he’d send since the party.

Hanji: please don’t shut me out again Y/N Hanji: i had no idea you were Felix’s best friend Hanji: did you know? Hanji: i mean, you must have Hanji: that’s why youve been avoiding me? Hanji: right? That has to be why Hanji: unless i did something wrong? Hanji: if i did i’m really sorry Hanji: please answer me baby Hanji: i’m so sorry. My head is all fucked up rn Hanji: all i can think about is you Hanji: all i’ve been able to think about is you Hanji: y/n please can we just talk about this? Hanji: about what happened last night? Hanji: if i crossed a line, i’m really sorry but unless i’m an idiot, it seemed like we both were into what happened Hanji: i’m not mad. I just don’t understand why you keep pushing me away Hanji: god this really sucks. I really liked talking to you and then we had some of the most mind blowing sex and you just disappeared Hanji: then you showed up again and then the thing in the bathroom happened and now you’re not talking to me again Hanji: not that you were talking before. Fuck now i’m rambling. Hanji: look. I’m really sorry. I’m sorry if i crossed any lines. I’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable and i’m sorry for anything i might have done to offend or hurt or upset you. Hanji: if you want me to stop messaging you, i will.

You let out a sigh, your food and television forgotten as you typed a reply.

You: you have nothing to apologize for Han. It’s my fault. When I invited you over, I had no idea you were Felix’s roommate. If I had known, I never would have invited you over. You: i promise you didn’t make me uncomfortable. I’m more mad at myself for slipping up. I told myself after i found out you were Lix’s roommate that we couldn’t continue. We can’t continue. regardless of how i feel, we can’t keep going You: i had no intention of seeing you again after learning who you were but Felix lied to get me to come to the apartment and force us to meet. I’m sorry for coming into your home and if i made you uncomfortable in anyway it was not my intention You: i’m sorry for the way i left but i panicked. I was afraid we were going to get caught.

Your eyes widened as you saw the familiar three dots appear as Han typed a response. It was then you noticed the read receipts on your messages. Before you could close the app, his reply popped up.

Hanji: why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve been beating myself up over this when all i really wanted to do was talk to you Hanji: I know it hasn’t been long since we met, but i really like you y/n Hanji: why are you so afraid of getting caught? We’re adults y/n. we can sleep together if we want to. It’s not about Felix You: you didn’t know Lix in college, did you? Hanji: no but why does that matter? You: because this isn’t the first time ive hooked up with one of his friends… Hanji: …your answer to the game at the party. You: yes. There were two people in that circle i’ve slept with Hanji: so me… who else? You: god this is so embarrassing. talking about my sexual history Hanji: i’m not going to judge you y/n You: …it was changbin. Hanji: yoooo really? You: stop! 😫 Hanji: sorry 😶 but really? You: yeah. It was back in college. We were both drunk at a frat party. He asked me to dance and one thing led to another and yeah… You: i felt so awful and guilty when i finally told felix. He says he wasn’t upset but i still felt awful. Hanji: did you know changbin and felix were friends when you and changbin slept together? You: yes. Which is why i felt so bad Hanji: then its different with us. You: how? Hanji: you didn’t know felix and i were roommates. You hadn’t met me yet. You: …i mean. I guess thats true Hanji: you only found out afterwards. How did that happen by the way? You: i was doing my laundry and felix brought up the subject of my… kink. He mentioned he had a friend who recently hooked up with someone and did the same thing i mentioned i liked Hanji: you and felix talk about your sexual kinks? You: i mentioned it when i was drunk. Hanji: ahh. Checks out. I did that too. But wait. He mentioned his friend? You: yeah. So he asked if i was interested in meeting his friend and i said i wasn’t sure so he pulled up their instagram… Hanji: no. Fucking. Way You: yes. He said you had hooked up with a girl recently and tried the whole anon sex and restraint thing and well.. i guess he was talking about us. Hanji: i’m sorry but i’m laughing right now You: why are you laughing??? This is mortifying! Hanji: what are the odds??? I mention to my roommate one time that i hooked up with a strange woman i met online, had some of the best sex ever and this whole time, it was his best friend. You: …it’s not funny 😩 Hanji: it’s a little funny You: 😠 is not Hanji: 🤏 just a bit You: wait a second… Hanji: ??? You: did you say you liked me? Earlier? Hanji: scroll up babe. I did You: … Hanji: and i’ve been dying to know You: …if i like you too? Hanji: yes. It’s been eating at me. You: why? Hanji: uh because i like you, you dork

When you didn’t respond, he continued.

Hanji: so do you? Hanji: like me? You: …yes Hanji: oh thank god. I was holding my breath and about to die You: but it doesn’t change anything Hanji: what? Why the hell not? You: because you’re Lix’s roommate and i’m his best friend. Hanji: look, forget felix for a second. Pretend like he’s not there. Hanji: what do you want? Do you like me? You: yes Hanji: do you want me? You: Han… Hanji: felix has been snapped from existence, okay? Thanos style snap Hanji: he doesn’t exist. Never did. Hanji: do you want me? You: …yes. Hanji: how bad do you want me? You: so fucking bad Han Hanji: yeah? You want me to touch you? You: yes. Fuck i want you to touch me so bad Hanji: want my hands all over you You: i want your hands all over me, Han Hanji: fuck, you’re making me want to come over You: you can’t Hanji: why not? You: because it’s late Hanji: hasn’t stopped me before Hanji: Felix won’t notice. He’s too engrossed in his phone to ask. Hanji: let me come over and make you feel good baby Hanji: please after last time, i can’t get you out of my head.

You were about to respond when your phone buzzed, a text from Felix flashing across the top of the screen.

Lixie: are you busy? You: uh. Not really Lixie: 👀 oh? Am I interrupting something? You: it’s nothing. What are you up to? Lixie: well i was gonna invite you to come over and watch this movie with Jisung and i but he just said he was going to bed so maybe another time >: You: lol it’s also pretty late Lixie: yeah. I didn’t think this through but while i have you here can i ask you something?

Your eyes caught sight notifications from Han at the top of your screen as you tried to focus on the texts from Felix.

You: i was actually about to head to bed Lixie: awww ): another time then. Don’t wanna keep your bed waiting You: lmao shut up. I’ll text you tomorrow Lixie: sweet dreams y/n~ You: u too Lixie

You pulled Han’s messages back up.

Hanji: please? 🥺 Hanji: baby? Where did you go? Hanji: i’m in bed now. I’d rather be in yours though 😫 You: sorry. Lix texted me lol Hanji: i figured that’s what happened. What did he want? You: to invite me over for a movie but you went to bed so he changed his mind. Hanji: if i go back out there will you come over? 👀 You: no??? Hanji: ): but babyyyyy You: if i came over now i’d have to spend the night Hanji: 👀 im not entirely against the idea You: in Felix’s room Hanji: aww booooo why? You: why would i sleep in your room? Hanji: well, we wouldn’t be sleeping baby (; You: …and just like that, felix would know everything Hanji: boooo 😑 fine. Then let me come over. You: but you said you were going to bed. Felix might think you’re up to something if you leave now Hanji: goddamn it… Hanji: guess i’ll have to settle for this then You: for what? Hanji: [image]

You tapped on the image and nearly dropped your phone.

You weren’t expecting anything but the sight of Han’s hand curved over the outline of his obvious erection sent a wave of heat and blood rushing to your core.

You quickly got up from the couch, cleaning up your food, downing the rest of your wine before heading to your room and climbing into bed. As you settled against the cushions on your bed, Han sent another message.

Hanji: you wanna see more? Hanji: all you have to do is ask baby You: jfc Han. Warn me next time 😫 Hanji: haha no can do baby You: i was sitting on my couch all unassuming Hanji: are you still on your couch? You: no. I’m in bed now Hanji: let me see

You turned your camera on, snapping a picture of your thighs, tiny sleep shorts and all to send to him.

Hanji: fuck. Send me another You: no u first Hanji: be careful what you wish for baby

You giggled as you waited for Han to send another picture. This time it was his hand disappearing into his pants.

Hanji: more? You: hmmm. whatcha reaching for? 🤔 Hanji: oh when i get my hands on you next…

You bit your lip in anticipation as he no doubt snapped another picture which appeared quickly. You opened it and your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock in his hand. You pressed your thighs together and quickly typed a response.

You were in the middle of typing when your phone buzzed with the notification of a call from discord. Han was calling you.

You scrambled to answer it.

“H-hello?” Your voice was shaking but on the other end, Han was just as breathless. “You like those pictures?” He asked, half amused.

“Mhmm. I did,” you answered, settling back into your pillows. “It’s been a bit since I’ve seen you,” you added. Han chuckled, a soft sigh leaving his lips. “Are you… touching yourself right now?” You asked.

Han fell silent before answering. “Are you not?”

You shook your head. “No, actually. Not yet,” you answered, moving your hand to rest on your thigh. “Jumped the gun, sorry about that, baby,” Han replied, making you smile, biting your bottom lip to hold in a giggle.

“Do you need an incentive?”

“Hmm what will you give me?” You were teasing him now but Han couldn’t be bothered to care. “Whatever you want, baby,” he answered, his hand moving slowly as he stroked himself, listening to the sound of your breathing.

“Whatever I want?” You repeated him. “Yes. Whatever you want, baby.”

“Hmm, send me a video?”

Fuck, you were going to be the death of him.

“Why don’t I just video call you?” He asked, moving his hand a little faster. “What if that’s not what I want?” You asked, making him pout. “Why ask for a video when you can watch me live, baby?” He asked.

You fell silent this time. He hesitated, thinking he might have gone too far before his phone buzzed. You had started a video call. Han flipped his camera feed around before turning it on. He was greeted by your face in the neon pink lights of your room. “Hey gorgeous,” he said with a smirk.

A shy smile crossed your face. “Hey,” you replied. “You really aren’t touching yourself?” Han asked, clicking his tongue when you shook your head. “You said you’d give me an incentive,” you reminded him. Han drew his bottom lip between his teeth before answering.

“I did, but I don’t think you’ve earned it.” Your laugh made his heart beat erratically. “That’s not how incentives work, Han,” you answered. He smiled sheepishly. “How about you show me what you’re doing?”

Han glanced down at his hand wrapped around his cock and then back up to the screen. “Is that incentive enough?” He asked. You tilted your head playfully. “We’ll see.” He rolled his eyes, letting out a groan before he complied, tilting the screen down so you could see his hand moving up and down his shaft.

He only gave you a small preview before tilting the screen back up.

“Good enough?” He asked. You smiled and moved, the screen a blur for a moment as you set your phone down. Han slowed his hand and watched as you reappeared. You had propped your phone up and were now sitting in front of it.

He watched as you sat back on your heels, hands moving to the bottom of your sweatshirt, playing with the hem. “You gonna strip for me?” He asked softly, keeping his eyes on his phone screen.

You slowly lifted the sweatshirt, exposing your stomach first and then pulled it off over your head swiftly, leaving you in your shorts and a lacy bralette that glowed in the neon pink lights. Han let out a groan as you leaned in a bit closer.

“Keep going, baby,” he rasped. “Give me a show.”

You smiled at him through the screen. “Only if you give me one.”

Han moved at the speed of light, setting his phone up on his bed to the side of him. “Better?” He asked softly as his fingers wrapped around his cock and resumed stroking. You nodded wordlessly and sat back up.

Han watched as your thumbs tucked under the waistband of your shorts and slowly pushed them down, sitting up on your knees to remove them. Your panties matched the bralette and Han nearly moaned at the sight of you kneeling on your bed, knees spread in the pink glow of your room.

“Don’t tease me, baby girl,” he groaned. He watched as your hands moved, sliding slowly up your thighs from your knees. One hand moved up to your chest, grabbing your tit over the lace as the other drifted slowly between your thighs.

“Fuck I wish I was there,” Han groaned, his head falling back against his pillows for a moment before he looked back at the screen. In the time between, you’d removed your panties and were now sitting with your thighs spread, giving him a front row seat to your glistening sex.

“Go on,” he said. “Touch yourself for me.”

Your hand traveled down between your thighs, fingers slowly playing with your clit before dipping down to your slit. Instead of sinking your fingers into your entrance, you pulled them back up, spreading your labia for him to see just how wet you were.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hand squeezing himself and imagining it was your cunt.

“Finger yourself for me baby, go on,” he instructed, almost growling when two of your fingers disappeared inside your wet heat. The moan that came out of you as your fingers curled inside you was almost enough to tempt him into leaving his room and going to your apartment.

He wanted to be there so badly. He wanted his fingers moving slowly in and out of your tight hole. He wanted to finger you slowly, torturously until you begged him to fuck you. “Keep going,” he urged. “Faster,” he added. “I know you can take it.”

Han watched as your hand moved faster, fingers disappearing inside your cunt with a loud, wet squelching sound not unlike when he fingered you at the party.

“Fuck, I really wish I was there now,” he groaned. “If I was there, I’d have you spread out on that pretty comforter as I fucked you.” You moaned loudly, spurring him on. “And I’d mark that pretty neck. Cover it so everyone knows you’re mine.”

His possessiveness was coming out but he couldn’t be bothered to care and judging by the way your hand moved faster, you didn’t seem to mind.

“Han,” you gasped out his name, fingers curling as you no doubt tried to reach the spongy spot he’d reached before, the spot that had your thighs shaking around his hand as he coaxed your orgasm out of you.

“That’s it sugar,” he grunted, fucking his fist faster. “Just like that. Keep going.”

You let out a breathy moan, the heel of your hand rubbing against your clit as your fingers curled more, attempting to reach that sweet spot. “Hannie, I’m close,” you whimpered. “You gonna cum for me baby?” He asked, his own high approaching rapidly. You nodded, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned. “Do it,” Han encouraged. “Be a good girl and cum all over those fingers. Pretend they’re mine. Cum for me baby girl.”

Your thighs shook, body shuddering as you moaned, fingers still moving as you rubbed your clit with the heel of your hand. “Hng Hannie~” you whined as your orgasm washed over you in waves.

Watching you come undone pushed Han over the edge, cursing and groaning as he came, painting his stomach with his release. His hand continued to stroke himself, making sure to get every last drop.

Han glanced over to his phone, breathing heavily. You had fallen back against your pillows, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Taking the moment to grab a few tissues, Han cleaned himself off, stuffing his cock back in his pants before he wiped his hands and grabbed his phone. “Babe?” He called softly.

“You alright?”

You stirred slowly, rolling onto your side before sitting up and leaning forward. “‘M okay,” you murmured, smiling tiredly at him. Han returned the smile before letting out a sigh. “That was amazing,” he finally said, making you hide your face in your sheets before you looked back up. “Yeah. Would have been better if you were here though.”

Han tilted his head playfully. “Next time?” He asked, hopeful. You smiled at him again. “We’ll see,” you answered softly. “It’s getting late,” you commented, squinting at the screen, no doubt looking at the clock in the corner.

Han checked his. You were right. It was well past midnight. “I don’t want to hang up,” he murmured, watching you through the screen. “Me neither,” you admitted just as softly. “We could just stay on the phone?” He asked. You nodded before sitting up quickly. “Let me put some clothes back on.”

Han whined as you disappeared. “You could always just stay naked!” He reminded you, making you laugh off screen. A moment later, you reappeared in a long tee, shifting to lay on your side with your phone propped up against the pillows.

“I wish I was next to you,” Han whispered, watching you through the screen. “Me too.” You nodded as you spoke. “Ugh, I just wanna hold you,” Han whined. “And kiss you.” Your smile widened as he spoke. “Yeah?” You asked.

Han nodded. “Yes. I just want to hold you so tight and kiss you. All over that cute face,” he answered, making you giggle. “Next time,” you murmured, making him smile. “Next time?” He asked again excitedly, heart hammering when you nodded.

“Yeah, next time.”

[mintmatcha]

5 pm on a Friday night, Kita starts a video call with Aran, Atsumu, Osamu, and Suna. thinking this is a mistake, none of them answer.

Until he calls again.

And again.

Atsumu answers from a bar, shouting over the rising noise.

"Are you dying?" he bemoans, "What warrants calling three times?"

"This could have been a text." Suna is hoarding a squat rack in his gym, leaned against a suspiciously heavy load.

"Guys, cool it," Aran whispers. His daughter is curled on his chest, blowing bubbles in her bottle, "Kita, tell us what's up."

Osamu says nothing. He's busy working, ear bud in one ear. Every now and again he nods to show he's still listening.

"I'm sorry, it's not an emergency."

"Kita-san!"

"Atsumu, shut up."

Kita gives a shaky laugh as he fumbles with his phone. It falls a couple time as he tries to stand in up against a ledge, but once it's settled, he steps back.

"I have a date tonight," he explains, rubbing the back of his neck, "Do I look like...?"

The grey haired man gestures to his outfit; a striped shirt under overalls. "Like a rice farmer?"

"Yes."

"You are a rice farmer, so it's not really a bad thing."

"It's not great."

Osamu spares the screen a glance, then nods wistfully. Then, he fumbles with his headphone cord, encrusting it with dirty fingers as he lifts it up to his mouth. "You gotta change the pants."

The rest of the group agrees.

"Do you still have those jeans from high school? Those made your ass look so fuckable."

Suna groans. "Dude, shut up."

"What do you want from me? I'm gay for men."

Aran's baby coos, detaching from her bottle.

"I'm with Osamu." The proud father of the group handles both crisises easily. "Lose the overalls. Maybe a clean shoe, too."

"Yeah, the white rubber boots are killing the vibe," Suna says.

"I think we are ignoring the fact Kita has a date." Atsumu says in a sing-song voice, taking a sip from a martini glass. Another hand quickly snatches it away.

"Drink your own drink, Miya."

"Omi-"

Kita has peeled off his outer layer and has begun scrambling through a nearby drawer. He finds what he's been tasked to: an older pair of blue jeans that fit just right. It takes a couple of jumps to get into them, but once they button, the chorus starts again.

"That's better."

"You look nice."

"Sooo fuckable."

Osamu gives the screen a thumbs up.

"Thank you all," Kita hopes they don't notice how pink his cheeks are, "I appreciate it."

"I expect an invite to the wedding," Aran takes the tiny hand of the baby and forces her to wave goodbye. She's too focused on dinner to notice.

"I expect juicy details about the sex." Atsumu nudges his date's side conspiratorially.

"Kita isn't a sex on the first date kind of guy."

"He should be!" Atsumu nudges his date, "We all deserve a little wet on our dicks-"

"Atsumu!"

"Tiny ears are listening!"

"Gag."

Kita laughs, but he's not sure why. Nerves he didn't realize were tense have been soothed.

"Thank you," he says, "I appreciate it."

[rd0265667]

Mina x Reader: la folie d'un(e)

Permanent Taglist: @cwpiqwon @justme-idle

A/N: Yes, The picture is a weird choice, I promise it's the right pic. Also sorry @keervah. and thanks @frenchyypoo and @1luvkarina for beta reading

Your eyes shut tight at the bright glare of the sun, causing you to wince in annoyance. As you reach around your bed, you found yourself alone. That was odd, Mina loved to sleep in on her off days, especially after a week long stint on the graveyard shift. Hmm, maybe she got hungry.

“Babe?” You groggily call out, scratching your hair, expecting to smell some waffles, or any of the foods Mina usually liked to prepare for breakfast, but no. No response from her either. Your eyebrow raised in caution. No note, no message, nothing. Your first  thought was an intruder. As someone who was married to a law enforcement officer, you’ve had many close scraps with pissed off criminals hoping to get revenge, or an up and coming criminal wanting to kidnap a cop for leverage. Arming yourself with a small kitchen knife, you creeped out of the kitchen slowly. No signs of forced entry, your IDS was still armed. Either your intruder was a ghost, or you were all clear.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you holster the knife, going to the fridge to grab some milk. You’ve had this situation happen more often than you’d like, but that’s the downside of being married to a police officer. Mina would disappear in the morning, for some manhunt or all hands on deck situation. When these situations arose, you found it best not to call, the miniscule chance of the call messing something up was too huge a deterrent for you to interrupt her work. She’ll call when she can. In the meantime, to keep your mind off of it, you grab your tote bag, intending on heading to the market for some shopping. On the way out however, an old photo frame that sat at the mantle next to the door seemed odd. You distinctly remember it being a picture of both you and Mina at the beach, your first date, now instead, it was a picture of you with your family at one of your cousin’s weddings. That’s odd, you could have sworn it was a picture with Mina. Maybe she’s been doing some redecorating. A discussion for when Mina comes back. “Yo! Juin!” You shout out as you waved to the teenager manning the store. “Morning Boss, what do you need today?” He said as he got up, adjusting his apron. “Just looking for some fruit. Where’s your pops?” You ask, looking through the fruits available at the store. “Oh he’s in the back, settling some shipping problems with the delivery guys.” Juin replied as he took the watermelons and other assorted fruits from you, going to wrap it up. “Big day? You usually don’t buy so many fruits in one go.” “Well, Mina’s probably had a long day, so I want to prepare a fruit platter for her to go with dinner.” You reply with a smile as you hand him the money. “Mina? New Girlfriend?” Juin asked in confusion. “Come on man, you’ve met Mina, she’s been my wife for 2 years and counting. Don’t you remember her? Japanese, shy, looks like a penguin, loves ketchup irrationally.” You ask, perplexed that Juin could not remember Mina. “Doesn’t ring a bell.” Juin replied, clearly not joking too. The youth these days, them and their poor memories. “Oh well, gotta run, say hi to your dad for me, he definitely knows her. Ask him to show you a picture of Mina.” You say, placing the fruits into your tote back, waving before walking off. As you walked off, Juin’s dad walked out. “Hey pops, Y/N came by. They mentioned a wife? Mina?” Juin asked his father “Who’s Mina?”

After a little more shopping, you hauled your bags back into your apartment complex, seeing a neighbour, and good friend of Mina’s, Nayeon, waving to you, rushing up to you and relieving your load of bags, then looping her hand around your arm. “Expecting company tonight Y/N? I’m disappointed you didn’t invite me first.” Nayeon pouted, looking at you in mock anger. “Another day Nayeon, I have a lovely spread for Mina tonight.” You respond, gesturing to your bags. Nayeon looks at you quizzically. “You have a girlfriend now? How could you keep this from me?” Nayeon asked, now more shocked than her previous mock anger. You chuckle awkwardly, trying to see when Nayeon would burst out laughing, or be unable to hide a smirk about this trick, but none. Nayeon seemed serious. “Come on, Nay, seriously. Mina was the one who introduced me to you. The two of you are in the same book club? There’s no way you don’t know her.” You ask her, worried as pieces slowly began to fall apart. She was missing this morning, no note, nothing. Juin didn’t remember Mina, more importantly, Nayeon didn’t either. Nayeon, who spent more time with Mina and their little friend group then she spends sleeping. This doesn’t make any sense. Seeing Nayeon shake her head, clearly now worried about you, you shook your head, muttering under your breath. “This isn’t possible. I have to go.” You hastily run to your door, leaving Nayeon standing behind you, confused and worried. You fumbled with the key in your hand, frantically trying to open the door. When the door finally creaked open, you bolted in, intending to find a picture of Mina. Maybe Nayeon was just having a medical issue, and a picture of Mina would jog her memory. You sprinted around the house, trying desperately to find Mina in a picture. But somehow, not a single one could be found. Picture frames where photos of the two of you once sat, were now replaced by pictures with your family. Even those photos you knew, you were certain, Mina was in, she was absent from those pictures, disappeared like she had never existed. How could this happen? Were you going mad?

You hastily pull your phone out, looking for her contact, but none showed up. Dialling her number, the phone company says that the number is not registered. Desperate, you phone the police. “Hello, Castle Hills Police Department Dispatch. How may I help you?” “Where is Officer Mina Myoui, badge number 23796.” You hastily spit out. “Who is this?” “This is Y/N L/N, Officer Mina Myoui’s partner.” “Alright, I’ll check.” The clacking of the keyboard in the background of the call offered no help to calm your nerves, forcing you to try to take deep breaths to keep your heart rate low. “I’m sorry, we have no record of an Officer Myoui.” You immediately hang up, dropping the phone to the ground as you felt the world around you begin to dance. Mina was gone from pictures, gone from…everything. Did she never actually exist? It didn’t make any sense, you remembered every single moment you had spent with Mina, meeting her at a cafe near her station, your first date at the beach, getting married, moving into this apartment together. But it was undeniable, no one else remembered Mina, not her friends, not her coworkers, there was no trace of Mina,  not in photos, nothing. Was she really a hallucination all this while, or was this all a huge nightmare, but if this was a nightmare, why would you be able to rationalise all this, you had read this before, was this madness? And why is this happening and does that lamp look weird, maybe the dimensions were off and why is this happening today, and-

Before your mind could race anymore, the world grinded to a halt. The honking of traffic outside went silent, birds stopped chirping. For a matter of fact, they stopped flying, frozen in the air as if time had stopped. And it had, for everything, and everyone, except for you. Looking around in confusion, you heard a thud at the door. Still disoriented, you just stared at the door. As the lock clicked, the door opened, and through the door, stepped Mina. Though initially stunned, you quickly ran up to her, throwing her into an embrace, one which she reciprocated, wrapping her hands around you and squeezing tight. “What’s going on, Mina? No one remembers you, and nothing of you is here, it's like you don’t exist.” You frantically ask, not willing to let go of Mina, afraid that she’d disappear the moment she left your grasp. “I’ll explain everything. Let’s sit down first.” Mina said, pointing to the couch as she made a poor attempt at hiding the tears in her eyes. Grabbing her hand as tightly as you could, the two of you walked to the couch. “Y/N.” Mina started, a slight pause in the middle of her sentence, taking a deep breath. “I’m not human. I’m a goddess.” She said, looking you straight in the eye. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve been through enough today Minari. Please, just tell me the truth, that’s all I need.” You plead, feeling your brain about to break at any moment. “I’m not lying, My parents wanted to give me a normal adjacent childhood, so they left me on earth with parents to take care of me after I turned 6.” Mina explained, extending her hand as she conjured a small flame in her hand. You were shocked, but after the news that no one remembered your wife, this just seemed like a somehow reasonable extension of the day. “Okay, if you’ve had these powers for so long, then why would everyone forget you now? Why all of a sudden?” Tears welled up in Mina’s eyes, fists clenched. “My mom was killed. There was a rogue in the pantheon, and she killed many of the gods and goddesses. I need to ascend to take her place, then put the rogue down. But… for me to ascend to the pantheon, there cannot be a trace that I existed as a mortal here.” Mina explained, fingers trembling. “You did this…You erased everyone’s memories of you, every trace of you.” You questioned, a tinge of betrayal bubbling in you.

Mina was unable to look you in the eye, fist clenched, hesitating a moment before nodding. “Then why do I remember?” You ask, perplexed. “Because I love you. I had to make everyone forget about me, and erase every trace of me, but I thought I could sneak one person past with their memories. You. Leave you with the memories of our love. And it worked. I ascended without a problem. But I saw how you were suffering, not because you had forgotten about me, but because you remembered. I don’t want to see you slowly go insane, my love. I can’t do that to you.” Mina explained, hand lightly cupping your cheek. “So what now.” You mumbled, realising your happy life was slowly collapsing like a house of cards. “You know what I have to do.” Mina whispered “Please, Mina. No. I want to remember you. I want to remember our first kiss, our movie nights, our everything. Please, Mina. Even if I can’t have you, at least…let me remember what I once had with you. I won’t go crazy, I know you had to ascend, I’ll go about my life now, but I want to remember. Please.” You say, at this point, you had stopped even attempting to hold your tears in, staring at Mina, trying to map every bit of her face for what could be the last time,  her almond shaped eyes, her blond hair, her little mole, everything that made up the woman you loved. Mina shook her head with tears in her eyes. “The only reason I was allowed back down was because I said there was someone who I had forgotten to wipe. They’ll check, Y/N. I don’t have a choice.” Mina whispered, cupping your cheek, pulling you in for one last kiss. As you shared your last kiss, your last embrace, you begged, you almost screamed, cursed at the powers that be, for all of this to be a dream. For you to wake up in your bed, held by your loving wife, living the perfect life you had enjoyed for so long “Goodbye, my Y/N. My love for you will never fade, I promise. I love you.” Mina whispered, before gently placing her hand on your forehead. “No Mina! Please!” You screamed in despair, but it was too late. Mina, eyes clenched shut, unwilling to look in the eyes of the person she had spent so much time with, and loved so deeply, forget about her, and forget about everything they had done together. The love they shared together, the kisses in bed before going to work. All gone Then, as if a curse was laid upon her, while removing your memories, she was forced to watch the future she was robbing the both of you of. You would have had two kids. One would have been named Jackson. The other, Rachel. You would have had your vows renewed at Hawaii on a family vacation. The two of you would have had long lives ahead of you, full of love, full of everything you could ask for, all because you would have had Mina. Not anymore

As Mina recoiled back, she fell onto the sofa, sobbing into her hands as you now stood frozen at the couch. Mina took her last look at you, wanting to burn you into her memories, and simultaneously, she felt an intense wave of grief and sadness. Your memories of her are lost now. You would meet someone else, fall in love with someone else, walk down the aisle with someone else. It was supposed to be Mina. It was Mina. But not anymore. Walking up to your frozen figure, Mina leaned in, leaving one last peck on your forehead.

“I’m so sorry, my love. This is my curse now, all of our memories, remembering you but never being able to have you. I’ll live for thousands upon thousands of years, but I’ll never love another. I’ll be cursed to love the ghost of you. A madness, la folie d’une”

[velvateen]

Hi you, I'm writing to you from Belgium! Thank you so much for your work, omg I love your writing so much!!! (you managed to make me get SICK butterflies in my stomach on your fiction "i am your singer" -smut LMAO-)

I'd like to suggest a story idea for zoro, I dreamt about him yesterday and in my dream he always found an excuse to get into the rooms I was in (very often the bathroom… While I was showering of course…) (example: it's dinner time // we're looking for you everywhere, I wanted to make sure you were okay…) Would you be willing to smut this dream into reality? 💚

(of course, it's a proposal, you're free to choose! Thank you so much for reading! 🥰)

don’t bother knocking - zoro x reader nsfw

hiiiii tysm for the request this is lowkey one of my fav pieces for this blog yet lol. enjoy!!

warnings: oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, fem bodied reader, no pronouns used

1.6k words

You ran your hands through your hair, making sure all of the soap had been wrung out. Ears blocked by water, you nearly missed the squeak of the door hinge as it opened. Sticking your head out of the shower, you saw Zoro, leaning against the counter.

“Can I help you?” You drew back into the water.

“No,” he hummed, “Just wanted to let you know that dinner’s ready.”

“Alright, yeah, I’ll be out in a minute! Don’t let them all wait up for me, alright?”

He grunted in response, and it took a few more seconds for you to hear the door open and close again.

Weird. Whatever. You stepped out of the shower, spotting wet footprints across the bathmat as you dried yourself off.

Zoro’s been acting this way lately. Always seeming to be where you want to go. Always showing up where you are. You try not to read too much into stuff with Zoro, maybe it’s just his way of trying to be closer friends with you. He’s got so many lofty aspirations that it’s hard for you to justify what your heart wants and what the crew already sees unfolding: Zoro’s got a thing for you. He just doesn’t know how to show it.

You towel off your hair and make your way to the kitchen, where you take your seat next to Zoro. Luffy is lunging for everyone’s plates although they’re all almost done eating, Zoro included. You sigh as you start to eat, relishing in the taste of Sanji’s perfect meal, and you rest your head on your hand as you start to pick at the plate. Distracted by the dinner, you don’t notice how close your arm on the table has gotten to Zoro’s. The heat of the shower is radiating off of your skin and onto his, and the hair on his arms raises. He fights the blush that settles on his ears, making no effort to pull away from your touch.

He stays there long after he’s finished eating.

The knock on your door is most unexpected, at this hour. You get out of your bed, setting down the book you’d been reading, and peek through the sliver of the door. When you see who it is, you open it wider.

“Oh hey, what’s up?” Zoro avoids your gaze a bit. Not completely, just enough to notice. He shrugs.

“Was bored. Mind if I hang out with you?”

You lick your lips. Zoro notices.

“Yeah, come on in, I was just reading,” you back away from the door and fall back into place on your bed. Picking up your book, Zoro sits on the side of your bed.

“What’s this about?” You take the book from him and set it down on your nightstand.

“I don’t really know yet, just started it tonight. But the cover is pretty so that means its gotta be good,” you laugh.

“Pretty sure there’s a phrase advising directly against that way of thinking but whatever,” Zoro mutters. You lean against the headboard as you laugh.

“Right, yeah, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’, well I happen to find that is the best method to finding anything good.”

“Is that right?” Zoro inches unperceptively closer to you, the arm bracing himself now over your legs.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Zoro licks his lips. You notice.

“What have you been doing hanging out with me so much? What’s the angle?”

“No angle.”

“No angle?”

“Maybe there’s an angle,” he smiles. His eyes dart down to your lips for a fraction of a second, but long enough to ignite a heat that’s started to burn in your stomach. Maybe, you realize, it’s been burning for a while now.

Zoro’s grown closer to you now, something you both realize. But the realization doesn’t make you pull away, not now that he’s got a hand cupping your jaw and tilting your face as if he’s practiced it a thousand times, just for this. Just for you.

You eyes close slowly as you feel the touch of warm, chapped, rough lips ghost your own. It’s as if he’s afraid to push too hard, to break a spell or scare you off, he touches you so dearly. The kiss deepens slightly, but never in a rough way, no, Zoro’s staked so much on this moment to ever make any motion that might scare you off.

You pull away, a giddy laugh making it’s way past your lips. Zoro searches your eyes for any trace of doubt or unrequited emotion, but he doesn’t find it. And he can’t help but catch that infectious laugh, that smile that cracks across your face with such abandon that it takes all of his efforts to not let it consume the entirety of his soul. It does anyway. You lean back up and let Zoro follow you down to where you sat against the headboard, and he moved to straddle you, running a hand through your hair and gently holding by the roots, committing all of these feelings to memory. He’s waited long enough to feel you, and now that he’s got you in his hands, he wants nothing more than to break down every wall you’ve built around yourself, to touch your skin, to sink into you.

He sinks his teeth, experimentally, into you. Not to damage, but to be able to look back tomorrow at breakfast and know that it wasn’t all a dream. Your fingers make his earrings clink as you run a thumb over them, tugging his ear close to your mouth.

“You wanna?” You whisper, the soft smile you’re wearing evident in your cadence.

“If you’ll let me,” he answers, trying not to give himself away. He does anyways. His hands, antsy to roam, have made their way down to your pajama pants and make a move to tug, but you pull away.

“Me first.”

You move to the floor, and Zoro’s hand flies to your nape, not wanting to lose touch with you for a second. His pants have pooled near you on the floor, and with it come his boxers. You lick your lips. And boy, does he notice.

The grip he has on your hair tightens, but is never harsh. Never with you. Even as your lips and tongue start to envelop and swirl around the tip of his dick. Never harsh. Even when his other hand clenches tightly into the mattress. Even as you take him further, noting every vein present and pulsing under your administrations. Even as he fights the urge to tell you every thought he’s ever had about you. Never harsh. Even when his hand leaves your hair to wipe tears brimming at your eyes, he does it with such tenderness that you start to question if the tears are from the gag at all.

Zoro pulls away from you, clearly a motion of great strain, and he pulls you back up to the bed, where you finally kick off those damn pajama pants. Laying down, Zoro’s eyes ask an unspoken affirmation from you, as his fingers hook around the edges of your underwear. You nod, and the haste of which he pulls them down makes you laugh. His lips are back on yours, tasting your laughter, until he pulls away to cup a hand on your cheek, slipping his thumb into your mouth, greeted by an unexpecting hum. He draws it out of your mouth with a pop, and brings it down to your center, dragging it across your folds, holding you open. You take in a sharp inhale as he rubs his thumb across your clit in circular, steady motions. He smiles, watching as you start to clench around nothing, and all for him. His lips are back on your neck, kissing further down until they ghost over your chest, pause, and continue kissing over the cloth of your shirt. Your back arches towards his warm breath, the fire in your stomach reaching a blaze. Your hands are all over his back as he continues to work you open, steadily puting more pressure on your nerves. You groan at the feeling, impatience starting to wear you down.

Zoro hears the quickening of your breath, and decides to sink a finger into you, working it around to get you adjusted. You huff in exasperation as he pulls away, only long enough to get himself settled towards you. His hand is above your head as he angles himself, dragging his dick along your folds. You groan in unison as you feel each other’s warmth, the culmination of all this waiting paying off after all these years. He sinks in, slightly, not so much to satiate you by any means, no, but it’s enough to get you adjusted.

Zoro takes a deep breath, and lets it go as he slides fully, sheathed impossibly tight within you.

You take a deep breath, and you let it go as you’re filled, depths reached.

“Good?”

“Good.”

With your affirmation, he moves, slowly at first, and then picking up the pace. But never harsh, never abrasive.

Not tonight.

There will be other nights, nights with less on the line, where Zoro will allow himself to tear into you, to deny and restrain you, but not tonight.

Tonight, Zoro focuses on loving you, which comes easily, given that it seems as he was born to do just that.

_____

The warmth of the hot water soothes your legs as you bend down to turn the shower off. The cool air of the night hits you as you step out of the shower, not surprised to see Zoro leaning against the counter. He watches as you wrap the towel around yourself.

“Can I help you?” You muse, tucking the towel in and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He smiles at you, resting his hands on your waist.

“Nope,” he presses a kiss onto your lips, “no angle here.”

a/n: hey everypony mwahahaha almost got carried away w this one it’s like one billion words. anyways school is still kicking my ass. sorry responding to this took so long!! hope everyone has a good day and eats good food! okay bye kitties meow

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Daryl read you like a book.

Vamp!Daryl x reader, smut

It came naturally with how long the two of you had been together these days. Since before the dead started walking the two of you had been inseparable. You had plans for your future, but those got ruined when the dead first rose.

The hopes came and went with each and every new settlement. From the quarry, to the prison, the farm inbetween those, but none stuck long enougg to deem it safe enough. Not for a huge the commitment of having a child.

Those dreams were nothing but old memories now, with Daryl's newest issues he got from running into an even less friendly kind of undead not long before arriving in Alexandria. A kind that stopped Daryl's heart and lowered his core temperature to thst of a dead man and gave him a thirst for human blood. You came to the realisation it ruined even more of Daryl's human functions after you tried so hard now that you finally had a safe space but the seed never took.

Daryl saw through your lies of being okay with it. The everlasting chants of "It's better this way." But he knew how much it hurt you. Before the world ended your eyes would have that sparkle in them whenever you saw mothers with their babies but now that sparkle turned into tears threatening to spill.

It was the worst during the times Rosita and Michonne had just given birth, seeing them breastfeed their little ones with the most love and adoration you had ever seen.

There were times you thought Daryl was still out and cried yourself to sleep, but he heard you each and every time.

"Yer starin', hun." Daryl held your waist as you both stood in the doorway of the community hall where Daryl had gotten stuck by accident this morning. The meeting took so long it went on till morning, so you came to visit him.

A sad sigh left your lips as you looked away from the woman across the street who was feeding her baby and enjoying the sun on the porch. "M'sorry.. I gotta head out anyways, guard shift." With a last kiss you left your partner at the door, only seeing him again after the sun had set late in the evening.

You were settled in bed already with a novel by the time he got back. Daryl left his shoes at the door. His vest on the back of the usual dinner table chair and his shirt was in his hands when he made it up the stairs.

"Hey, welcome back." The smile on your face was the only thing that still warmed his cold, dead heart, and he was determined to cheer you up and make that smile a genuine one tonight.

"Hi, hun.." His voice gave away his lack of strength. He hadn't fed since the meeting started, close to twenty-four hours earlier. He needed to feed, and you'd happily give him what he needed so you put your book away and offered him your arm where old puncture wounds sat in varying stages of healing.

But he didn't bring your wrist to his mouth ad he settled on the bed. His hand moved along the length of your arm and down your torso to take off your top, exposing your upper body.

"Daryl, what are you doing?" The two of you hadn't been intimate in a long time, not wanting to be reminded of the hurt it caused you both. "Jus' relax, lemme make it nice fer us both."

Daryl's words had your curiousity piqued and your eyes following his every move from where he started at the edge of the bed to where he now moved to lay on top of you, umderneath the blankets.

"You're being weird." With a smile on your face you kissed the top of his head as he planted kisses on your chest.

"M'bein' nice." Daryl's hands were on your waist , then on the sides of your ribcage before they ended on your chest, squeezing, kissing and licking all over them. You let out a moaned laugh at the tickle of his fingertips and rolled your hips up against his stomach making him growl deep in his throat.

You never watched while he fed. The sight of his monstrous side wasn't one youbwanted to remember may something ever happen to him, but now you watched.

The veins under his skin blackened, spreading from black scleras that surrounded deep red irises. His normally stubby fangs were now long and sharp, ready to bite down and feed from you. His ears had pointed and so had his nails that softly clawed at your sides.

He dragged his long, pointy tongue across one of your tits with a pleased hum at your shiver, grinning so wide it looked like his face had split open. Still, with the gentlest touch he kissed your nipple.

You watched as he opened his mouth. Watched as his fangs pierced your skin, just above your nipple and latched onto it.

You watched as he fed from you. Mimicking a newborn feeding off their mother. Your hands moved on their own, caressing his cold flesh, tracing the scars on his back as he laid with his arms wrapped around you for warmth.

You felt his hard cock against your leg, but he disn't seem bothered by it in the slightest. He was content just feeding and pleasing you in the meantime. He fed off your blood and warmth, giving you all that you wanted.

The need to nurture, but also the realization that even without a child of your own, you had someone who needed you.

His monstrous outside no longer scared you, knowing what laid underneath would never think of hurting you. Your lover had changed over the years, you had lost your personal heater and with that the chance of starting your own family. But you gained a protector, one who may never suffer from a walker bite but needed you more than anything to keep walking beside you.

He needed you as much as you needed him.

So from now on, you watched.