#oh yeah this is 4.6K words if you wanted to know

[tonycries]

Never Ever Seen This Before!

Synopsis. There’s a first time for everything - including trying out dirty little kínks with them.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cóckwarming, mating press, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, marking, spitting, bóndage, spanking (Nanami’s), dynamics, degradation, cúmplay, squírting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. *sigh* can’t believe I deleted this before. If you know, then YOU KNOW.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Stay still, goddammit!

Was being stuffed full of your boyfriend’s thick cock at all times really too much to ask? You think not. 

Toji, however, really didn’t see the point.

“But, doll.” he groans, dragging his tip lazily in-between your swollen folds. And it was so sloppy - slick trailing down his length, smearing across the sheets. “Jus’ wanna fuck your pretty lil’ cunt.”

It’s not that Toji doesn’t like the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock. No, he loves it - is addicted even. And he loves it especially when you attack him in the morning like this - his pretty girl, all splayed out on her side, barely even blinking the sleep out of her eyes before you ache for his dick. 

But, really, what’s the use of staying still - he’d rather fuck you till you’re breathless and creaming around his cock.

“Toji, you promised we’d try. Jus’ want to be stuffed full of your cock.” you pout, batting your lashes behind at him. “Don’ make me go on a sex ban.”

Oh, you little minx. He knew all your dirty tricks - yet, fell for them each time anyway. “Fine. Then fucking-” he lifts your legs a little higher, hips pulling back ever-so-slightly. “Take it.”

You barely even hear the rest of his sentence because Toji’s immediately bullying his throbbing dick into your pussy. Pushing against the resistance as you struggle to take his thick cock, not stopping till he’s buried all the way in your wet cunt.

Smirking at the way you mewl and grind your hips back into his, he wraps two muscled arms around your waist, holding you still on his cock. Murmuring in your ear, low and gravelly, “Not s’pposed to move, doll. Remember?

God, he knows you feel the way he twitches inside your dripping cunt at the way you whisper out a shaky little, “Y-yeah. No moving.”

And stubbornly you grit your teeth, being able to do nothing more than clamp down so deliciously on Toji’s pulsing cock as you stay still, relishing in the burn of him stretching you impossibly.

And maybe it’s been minutes - or even hours, because God did it feel that way to Toji as he watched you being broken by the mere feeling of being split apart on his cock. Patience slowly waning, he snakes down a hand to your poor, forgotten clit. Index tracing lightly over the sensitive bud. 

“T-Toji what-” you immediately jolt, finally getting an ounce of the friction your cunt has been aching for this whole time. Mindlessly grinding into his erection - only to be stopped by a large hand on your hip. 

“No moving, doll. Remember?”

“But-”

“Didn’t say anything about playing with your pretty lil’ clit now, did you?” he hums, knowing you were playing right into his hands. “Now. Don’t move.”

Ah, you can do nothing but lay there and take it as Toji presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Fingers starting to press, frantic, hard little circles on your swollen clit. Over and over- Like he was fucking you with his fingers the way he couldn’t with his dick. 

Ugh, damn him. Damn him and his fingers that knew you so well.

It was maddening.

“Toji- please.” you sob out, powerless against the bruising grip keeping you in place. You wanted to move. You wanted him so bad. 

“‘Please’ what?” he grunts. Clearly torn between focusing on drawing steady, agonizing patterns on your clit and fighting that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy over and over. Not stopping till you were cockdrunk and crying to cum.

“Please just fuck me- ah!”

Oh, you didn’t have to tell Toji twice. Because in one, fluid move, Toji’s pulling back, fucking you with harsh, jerky little movements of his hips. Twitching balls smacking you with each thrust. Not even caring to wait and let you adjust because fuck cockwarming, he’s wanted this so long and your needy lil’ pussy is milking him so good- “Shhh, it’s okay, doll. We have lotsa time to practice.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - So mean!

Nanami Kento was a gentleman. Always holding the door open, guiding you through crowds, gifting you bouquets even when there wasn’t a special occasion. 

The only problem was that Nanami was a gentleman even when you didn’t want him to be. Even when what you really wanted was for him to push you down and tease you till you were crying and begging for his cock. 

Like right now - kissing softly down your neck, large hands trailing across your skin as he lays you gently on your bed. Long fingers dipping into your soaked panties, drawing delicate patterns on your quivering thighs. But you’re not in the mood for delicate.

“K-Kento!” you whine, hips bucking into his featherlight touches. “Can we ah- do that thing we talked about?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, darling.” he murmurs against your skin. 

You let out a pouty whine, one that you knew would make him break. “But I want you to, Kento. Wan’ you to break me. Please.”

He lets out a resigned sigh, running a hand through his hair. A loaded second of silence passes. One. Two. And just as you’re about to admit defeat, surprisingly, it’s Nanami that breaks the silence. “Fine then. Face down, ass up if you want to act like such a lil’ slut.”

You scramble to do what he says, mind reeling from the fact that oh this was Nanami - the same Nanami who’d never raised his voice or ever called you anything other than terms of endearment.

“Hm, good.” he grits out.

And that’s all you hear before a deafening rip! rings through the heady room. Looking back in shock, you realize with a jolt that Nanami had your tattered panties in his hands, your dripping cunt on full display for him. 

As he positions himself behind you, resting his swollen cock the curve of your ass. Mindlessly, you push back against the feeling of Nanami’s achingly hard cock, hot and heavy on your skin, precum smearing everywhere. “Ken-”

Smack!

“Not Kento, darling.” he murmurs, palms smoothing over your ass. Lips kissing down your spine, in a way that would be so sweet if it wasn’t for the way he had you under his mercy. 

You let out a strangled moan at the sharp sting, his large handprint searing into your skin.  “S-sir?” you whisper, almost-experimentally. And oh was it the right answer - because he groans appreciatively, dick jumping so animalistically at the term leaving your swollen lips. 

“Oh? So my slutty girl does know how to be good, huh?” he murmurs, voice so uncharacteristically dangerous. Hands spreading your swollen folds to take in the sight of your wet pussy. “Shit. Since m’feeling so nice, count to five n’ I’ll fill that tight lil’ cunt with my cock.”

You barely have the time to wonder what he means before you feel a sharp slap against your ass. Forcing you to yelp out a strained little, “O-one, sir.”

Nanami hungry eyes greedily take in the fat tears clinging to your lashes, hips bucking into his for more. Your mouth dropping into such a delicious little oh! as you’re torn between pain and pleasure. 

You were so sweet falling apart underneath him that he can’t help but do it again. Smack! And again. Smack! 

“Two. Hah! N’ t-three.”

Good, now it was time to put his good girl to the test. 

With a low hiss of appreciation, he drags his throbbing cock across your wet folds, gathering your sweet juices on his tip. At the same time, Nanami’s hand connects with your ass again. Hard. Smack! 

“Ah! Oh-”

“Count.”

“Four! Ngh- four, sir.”

Nanami’s amusement spikes at the way you were so desperately rutting into his cock. And, well, what his pretty slut wants - she gets, right?

Several things happen at once,  he swiftly raises his hand for a final, hard smack. Hips reeling back ever-so-slightly to ram his cock into your snug cunt at the same time. Smack! 

“Ah! Kento- Kento hgnh- shit feel s’good inside me.” you mewl, drunk off both the sharp sting on your ass and Nanami bullying his thick cock into your tight pussy, filling you up so good. 

But not for long - because as soon as he was stuffing you full of his cock, Nanami’s pulling out just as fast. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you whirl behind to pout at him. Only for whatever whine to get stuck in your throat at two fingers shoving something flimsy and wet in your mouth. Forcing you to taste yourself.

Gagging around your soaked panties, a jolt runs down your spine at the positively feral glint in his eyes. Blinking away the tears in your eyes to take in the cruel little smile playing on his lips as he leans in closer to whisper, “My lil’ slut can’t even seem to remember what to call me, huh? I think she should be punished.”

Oh.

What have you done?

♡ GETO SUGURU - Drown me in it!

Geto Suguru has done it all - folded you in half, stuffed you full from all ends, had you begging and crying for more underneath him. He can confidently say that he hasn’t shied away from ticking off everything on the list.

That is until one random night in the shower, when he gets an epiphany - oh shit, Geto hasn’t made you squirt yet. Yes, it was the sudden image of you covering him in all your sweet juices. But more importantly - how dare he let his pretty girl go so long without cumming so hard you see the pearly gates of heaven? 

So - like any good boyfriend - Geto has you splayed out on his navy sheets, your legs in the air, his painfully hard cock buried in your dripping cunt. 

“Hngh- please. Shit shit shit m’cumming-” you whine, hips bucking wildly into his. Tears streaming down your face, clenching so hard around his dick that it makes it hard for Geto to thrust in and out at his steady, torturous rhythm. Fucking you through- which number orgasm was this again? 

Ah, it doesn’t matter - because you didn’t squirt. Again. 

“Awww…” you can barely hear his words over the blood roaring in your ears. “Didn’t squirt on that one either. C’mon now, my love, I know y’can do it f’me.”

Not wasting a second, Geto’s ramming his cock into your snug cunt once more. Heavy balls stinging your ass with each thrust - not even easing you into it any more because oh your little sobs were so pretty. Squirming and bucking into his touch despite your protests. “S-Sugu- I hah-, can’t-”

Now, as much as Geto loved your smart mouth - he loved it even more when you’re cockdrunk and babbling underneath him. Huffing out a laugh, he murmurs in your ear, “Yes, my love?” Veins grazing that one spot. Hard. “Can’t what?”

“Can’t cum anymore!”

Well - greedy gaze drinking in the way your swollen cunt swallowed him up so well, slick dripping down to his twitching balls - Geto begged to differ.

“Shut up. You will.” he mutters, shifting the angle to hit that one spot that has you gasping and bucking your hips for more. Your fists bunching up the soaked sheets below you, fucking yourself desperately into his throbbing cock. Curling deftly against that one spot. Over and over-

“Close, my love?” Geto sing-songs, “Think this could be the one?”

And oh does he find out. Because you’re cumming again - stars behind your eyes, walls clamping down so sinfully as he fucks you through your high. Your nails claw at his shoulders in an effort to get him to fucking slow down - but no, Geto is ruthless with his abuse. Hips faltering only once you show signs of your high bating. 

And before you can even react, your boyfriend’s starting his movements again. Milking himself on your heavenly pussy. 

You can’t even form coherent sentences at this point, only fucked-out whimpers leaving your swollen lips - it’s been like this for hours now. You’ve cum more times than you can probably count, yet here Geto was - not even once tonight. A slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. All because he wanted you to fucking squirt.

His thumb was ravaging your sensitive clit, pleasure nothing more than tingles now as Geto fucking ruins you. Hips bullying his thick cock into your heated pussy, thrusts no more than sloppy little movements. Your pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor.

Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving. 

“C’mon, my love.” his words were so sweetly whispered in your ear - barely audible over your cries. Geto nips at your earlobe, purring lowly, “Squirt on this one, n’ I’ll fill your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum like you want s’bad.”

And then, it happens - something snaps.

Your orgasm crashes through you. So violent and hard that you see flashes of white behind your eyes. You cry out, trembling as your sloppy pussy squirts all over Geto. Covering him in all your sweet juices till his abs are glistening with your slick. Dripping down his body and absolutely soaking the sheets below.

And oh how he was entranced. Geto barely registers his own orgasm, hips faltering as he pumps thick, hot ropes of seed into your quivering cunt. Cumming at the mere sight of you creaming on his cock. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him.

It was so so worth edging the both of you to the brink of insanity. He thinks his only regret was not having you squirt all over his face too.

Well…now he only had to see if he could do it twice.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Lollipop!

Shit, you thought your best friend would have a huge dick - but this was ridiculous. 

So intimidatingly long and pretty, swollen tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching his blushing cheeks. Beads of precum leaking down, down, down the side so mouth-wateringly as you seat yourself in-between those sculpted thighs.

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” Choso hisses, despite the way his cock throbs animalistically in your soft hands. 

You raise a brow, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently. “Are you sure, Cho? S’your first, after all.”

He should say no. He should laugh it off as a joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his dick. Have you choking and gagging around him. So, any rationality thrown out the window, Choso nods slowly. Entranced. 

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, hot breath making his angry cock twitch “Thought so.” 

“But are you su- hngh!” Whatever sentence at the tip of his tongue is cut off as you spit on his length. Once. Twice. Your palms smearing the saliva along his throbbing length. Enough of an answer. And then there’s no more talking. 

Choso’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief as your tongue darts out to collect the saliva and precum pooling at his head. 

Moaning at his slightly salty taste, you take in as much of him as you can - inch by fucking inch. Not stopping till your nose meets the small tufts of black hair at this toned pelvis. Because this was your devastatingly sexy best friend and he deserved the best. 

God, Choso already thinks he could pass out. 

Heavy balls squeezing so painfully, his veins graze against the roof of your mouth as you start bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless pace. Milking Choso’s pretty cock for all he’s worth. Not even easing him into his first, because fuck only one taste and you’re already addicted. 

So, really, it only makes sense that Choso was the same. “Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good hngh-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your warm, plush mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.” 

Was this what heaven felt like? He really was missing out.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, feel s’good around me, sweetheart.” he groans, as you tongue at his sensitive slit. Fingers digging into the soft armrest while he tries to keep himself together.

You notice - of course you do - because soon enough you’re grabbing his arms to rest on your head, teary eyes blinking up at him so sinfully as you suck the soul out of him. 

In a split-second, Choso’s carding his fingers through your hair, holding you steady as he rams his cock down your throat. 

“Fuck- m’s-sorry, sweetheart. S’too ngh- fucking good.” his words slur together, drunk off the way you gag around him. Letting yourself be so used as he fucks your mouth so ferally. Not half the man he was just a moment ago.

By God were you a vision, he thinks deliriously - tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, lips stretching so lewdly around him as you take him in and out in and out in and- And if he angled your head just right he could see the bulge in your throat. Him - all him. “Sorry- ah! s’pretty hgnh- pretty when you’re full of my cock.”

“Gonna be m’first, huh?” he moans deliriously, “”Gonna let me fuck up into that pretty lil’ mouth whenever I want?” 

The only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles, and the smacking of his heavy balls hitting your chin. This was heaven and you were an angel.

And that only makes Choso speed up his sloppy thrusts more. Each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Balls tightening, feeling his sanity crumbling away each time his throbbing erection hits the back of your throat. Over and over-

“Ah! Sweetheart- m’not gonna last long. M’close-” he lets out a guttural groan, tugging on your hair to pull you away.

But alas, you seemed every bit intent on ruining him. Because the only response he gets are your nails digging deeper into his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. Ones for him to remember you by - not that he thinks he could ever forget this.

And that itself is enough to have Choso spilling into your mouth. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat. 

Messy. It was so fucking messy.

Heart in his throat, breaths ragged, Choso has to blink his vision back. And if he thought he was going to pass out before then he wasn’t ready for you to proudly stick out your tongue - showing absolutely no trace of his cum. Swallowing everything he gives.

“I-I think,” he starts, voice shot, “S’time for me to return the favor.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Drunk on you(r cunt)!

Why the hell would the King of Curses ever kneel down to anyone? 

Why would he ever wrestle your legs so shamefully open, dive nose-first into your pretty pussy, and tease you with his tongue for hours? Ignoring his angry, achingly hard cock for the sole purpose of making you cum and only making you cum?

But, well, that’s exactly what happened. 

“Oh- Kuna! Please-” you mewl, big fat tears dripping down your face at this point. Not knowing whether to move your hips away or buck up into his tongue for more more more-

“What now, brat?” he hums into your dripping cunt, vibrations making you squeal. “Complained that I don’t eat out your pretty lil’ cunt n’ now you’re acting so spoiled?”

Ah, there it was - that offhand little remark that got you into this mess. “B-but,” you whine, stars behind your eyes each time Sukuna laps at your sweet juices. “Didn’t think you’d be so mean-”

All you get is a dark chuckle as Sukuna sucks on your throbbing clit, so sensitive from his relentless abuse. Rolling his tongue over it so teasingly. 

Now, this might be his first time eating you out, but he knows exactly what you need - what you crave. And the way your body trembled under his touch told Sukuna everything about how you were brinking so dangerously close to the edge. Too close. 

“Please, Kuna! Wan’ cum s’bad.” you cry out, broken little moans of pleasure leaving your swollen lips. Ones which quickly turn into disappointed whines as he pulls away. Again.

“M’not being mean.” he murmurs in your ear, drinking in that adorable little pout on your face. 

In the haze of your lust-addled mind, you barely register the way he flips you two to lay on his back. Manhandling you further up the mattress you to be splayed out so sinfully above him - thighs straddling his devastatingly handsome face, hot breath hitting your dripping cunt.

“See?” Sukuna hums, tongue darting out to catch the obscene drip! drip! drip! of your slick. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “M’the best fucking boyfriend you’ll ever have.” And with that, he’s bullying his tongue through your swollen fold. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over-

“Ngh- feels s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Sukuna’s tongue. 

Why was he so reluctant again? Something about stupid fucking pride? Fuck that, Sukuna would be on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal.

God, you were pretty sure you’d be collapsing onto him if it wasn’t for the strong hand holding your hips. Grip almost bruising as he rocks you harder - more obscenely - on his tongue. The other snakes down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your swollen clit - as if you weren’t losing your sanity enough

And maybe if you were in a better state of mind you’d have noticed that Sukuna was, too. Eyes half-lidded, slick glistening down his jaw, pussy-drunk and watching awe-struck at the sinful sight of you. Devouring the sight of you the way he was with your cunt. 

Fuck, why does this feel so good? He wasn’t even fucking getting off, but the more he made out with your sweet cunt, the more he could feel himself edging closer and closer to the edge. Rock-hard cock angry and leaking precum all over his abs. The great Ryomen Sukuna cumming in his pants from eating his pretty girl out? 

Shit, Sukuna thinks deliriously, he was gonna have to make you cum. Soon. 

“Kuna- m’close.” you whimper, voice so soft as if you were afraid of being teased again.

“Oh yeah, brat?” he mutters into your folds, “Want it s’badly, huh? Wan’ cum on my tongue?” 

The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Yes yes yes! Can’t take it anymore, wan’ cum. Make me cum, please!” you keen. Fucked-out little whines of Sukuna’s name leaving your mouth as he speeds up his movements.

“Then cum.”

And you are, clenching so lewdly around his soft tongue as you ride out your high on his face. Your juices glossing his lips so prettily. And oh Sukuna’s so entranced by you creaming around his tongue that he almost misses the feel of thick, hot spurts of his cum now pooling on his abs. Fuck, he was going to have to do this very often.

♡ GOJO SATORU - Break him!

Gojo always fucked you like his own personal sextoy. And now, it was only time for you to pay back the favor. Which is why you had him handcuffed to the bed, shirtless and splayed out to absolutely fucking ruin. 

“Hah, don’t worry, baby. I’ll be gentle.” Gojo chuckles, tugging on the metal cuffs. Still so cocky despite the way his throbbing dick was leaking all over his sculpted abs, twitching at the mere sound of your voice. 

“How nice.” you hum, sliding your pussy across his swollen cock, drenching him in your juices. “Because I won’t be.” And before Gojo can retort, you’re sinking down on his achingly hard cock, squeezing him inside your tight cunt as much as you can. 

“Shit shit shit, yes. Your pretty lil’ pussy feel s’amazing wrapped around me. You sure you can handle it all, baby?” 

You waste no time. Slamming down on Gojo’s leaking cock in one, abrupt motion, walls burning at the stretch as your ass meets his heavy balls. They twitch against you as you start moving in steady little bounces, sliding his thick cock in and out of your dripping cunt. In out in and out in and-

“Shit, baby. Fuckin’ me s’good ah! Hngh-” Gojo’s sinful moans come in ragged bursts. Fucking up into your pussy in shallow, defiant little thrusts to bully himself deeper and deeper inside you. But not for long - because you’re pushing his hips down, nails digging into the milky skin of his hips.

“Nope.” you hum, grinning at his pout. “Not till you admit defeat, Toru.”

“What defeat? That all you got, baby?” Gojo scoffs.

Stubborn bastard.

“‘What defeat’, huh?” you taunt. Leaning down so your breath fans his pretty face, “Said I couldn’t- handle it-” Each word is punctuated by you slamming down hard onto his swollen cock. Snug cunt massaging his veins as you pull up all the way - till his leaking tip is just kissing your sloppy hole, rocking your hips down hard at a punishing pace. “Look at you now, huh?”

You risk a glance into his eyes and oh- he liked it.

The great Gojo Satoru - revered like a God since birth - liked being treated like a mere fucktoy at your hands. Loved it even - if the way he twitched inside you was anything to go by it. Oh how you enjoyed being the one to bring him down to his knees.

Immediately, your hand reaches to grab the blindfold hanging haphazardly on his neck. “C’mon, Toru.” you warn, breaths ragged at the way his fat tip kissed your cervix. Tugging - hard - Gojo breath hitches in his throat as you whisper, “Jus’ give up.”

His pretty lips part slightly as you speed up your movements. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out. 

“God, fuck- hah. Nah, more talk than walk, huh?”

Your hand tightens around the delicate blindfold, relishing in the wet little gurgles that leave him at the pressure around his throat. Balls squeezing painfully as you hypnotize him with your heavenly cunt. Alternating between agonizingly slow strokes and a sloppy, erratic bouncing - edging him closer and closer to the edge. Only to shatter his orgasm and his ego. Fuck.

“I know you want to cum, Toru.” your sweet voice snaps him out of his reverie, and Gojo stares up into your hazy, powerdrunk eyes. “Just admit defeat.”

“No.”

“Toru.” you start, sultry and dangerous. “Admit it.”

He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out through those long lashes. “No.” he repeats, jaw clenched tight.

A hand wraps around his blindfold, pulling him impossibly closer, not even a hair’s breadth between your sticky bodies. “Admit defeat, Toru.” your lips ghosting his, nipping at his bottom lip. “Admit defeat, n’ I’ll make your cock cum hard enough to see stars.”

And finally, “I hah- a-admit defeat.”

“Louder.”

“I was wrong! Was wrong, m’girl. Lemme cum please lemme cum-”

Throwing his head back, Gojo’s hips buck wildly into yours as you let him bully his dick into you with reckless abandon. Over and over- Using you just as much as you were using him. Not even an ounce of the God he was raised to be.

And oh does Gojo see stars - and you do too. Because with a strangled gasp of your name, he’s painting your snug cunt white with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 

Fucking his seed deeper and deeper, he fucks you through your high. Dazed blue eyes widening at the way your tight pussy was so overfilled, sticky seed dribbling out of you.  The sight of you creaming around his cock has his balls twitching exhaustedly. Fuck it was all too much. Flimsy handcuffs shattering with one pull, Gojo mutters raggedly, words sending shivers down your spine, “My turn, baby.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[lisired]

change your mind yet?

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, enemies to lovers-esque, choking, spit kink, haechan’s lowkey a cocky piece of shit, he calls you a bitch Lol

summary: You’re going to kill him. You swear, You’re going to kill him. how did Liu Yangyang accidentally tell Lee Donghyuck—your greatest enemy—that you think he’s hot and that you’ve been in a dry spell recently? Now you have to avoid the inevitable confrontation, and worst of all, deal with the most stubborn person alive (who ironically thinks that you’re the most stubborn person alive).

word count: 4.6k

a/n: very much an oldie… not so sure about a goodie but i do love the ending. i had written this for a friend lol

You love him to bits, but Liu Yangyang is not your favorite friend right now.

Fairly, you one-hundred percent blame him for the predicament you’re currently in. You know he can be a blabbermouth at times and wouldn’t do it on purpose, but there’s no way you’d let him get away with quote-unquote accidentally telling your mortal enemy that you think he’s hot, and that you’ve been having trouble getting off.

It was yesterday evening that you were on FaceTime with your best friend, simply conversating as per usual. You were ranting comfortably to Yangyang about your troubles and how sexually frustrated you are, and he suggested you getting laid. That’s how the topic of Lee Donghyuck came. He was suggesting people, and when he asked you if you thought Donghyuck was hot, you replied yeah, but I wouldn’t touch his dick with laboratory safety gloves.

Fast-forward some hours later, he’s consentfully telling your mutual friend Renjun about your conversation, in hopes of playing matchmaker and finding someone for you to fuck. The problem? Donghyuck was around, and somehow overheard everything except the part about you saying that you’d never touch his egotistical dick.

So now you’re on campus, avoiding your egotistic mortal enemy like the plague.

Why do you dislike Donghyuck? The answer’s simple, he’s one of those guys. The ones that think they own the world, and that it revolves around them. The ones that think they can have any and every person they want, and treat people’s hearts like dirt. In short, you don’t think he’s a good person, no matter how hot he is.

When your final class rolls around, you think you might’ve successfully dodged him. You had another class with him today, but for some reason he was a no-show. Not that you care, his lack of presence was relieving. Then, you see him stroll into your Language Arts class, and the bright red cherry on top? He’s quick to snatch the seat directly next to yours. Oh, brother.

“Hey,” Donghyuck whispers. “Let’s talk.”

Your heart is racing, but you think you manage to conceal it. “In the middle of class?”

He shrugs, “Afterwards.”

You’re running out of here the second your professor dismisses you.

So, Donghyuck cornered you.

There’s no going anywhere as long as he has you like this, backed up against a wall, his hands on either side of you, and his gaze practically rooting you in place. You feel like you’re being stared down by Medusa, still as stone as you look into his eyes.

“So, let’s talk,” he grins, tilting his head. “A little birdie tells me you think I’m hot, you’re under a dry spell, and that you’ve been having trouble making yourself cum lately.”

“Did you hear the part where I said I wouldn’t touch your egotistical dick with laboratory safety gloves?”

“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t need my dick to have your thighs shaking, huh,” you’re blushing, actually blushing, cheeks aflame and your skin all hot. To make matters worse, Donghyuck’s hands move from beside you to sitting pretty on your waist, not moving lower or higher, cool texture of his rings pressing gently into your skin. The contact has you in an internal frenzy, but you chalk it up to you simply being touch-starved. “Don’t you see these lips, baby?”

Alas, you do see them. With his face as close as it is to yours, you can’t help but see them. They’re pretty and plush, kissable, and kind of do look like they could eat—no, no, no, no. You’ve been with your share of guys like Donghyuck, ones that like to talk about how good they are, yet are severely disappointing in reality. For you to even be considering sleeping with him just goes to show that you’ve struck rock bottom.

“D-don’t call me that,” you curse yourself for stammering, because he only finds it amusing.

“Why not? I think you like it, baby,” Donghyuck teases, “is that the problem? You like me, but you don’t want to like me? You don’t like that you know I could make you feel good?”

You loosen your gaze, unable to bare eye contact with him any longer, “Fuck you, Donghyuck.”

“Fuck me your fucking self,” he grabs your chin, making you look at him. If you can see anything in his eyes, it’s the unmistakable gleam of lust, so dark yet so tempting. “You want it, don’t you?”

God dammit, you do want it. But you refuse to have your name crossed out on his checklist, to be another notch in his belt. You know it would only boost his ego to have seduced the most stubborn person alive into fucking him, and you absolutely refuse to let that happen.

“No.”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrow, “No?”

“No,” you repeat.

You don’t know how you expected him to react, but he takes it coolly, dropping his hands and stepping away. Aw no, did you hurt his ego? The thought almost makes you laugh.

“Okay, but you know where to find me when you change your mind,” He smirks, and you hate how confident he sounds. Not if, but when. When you change your mind.

He strolls away, and you let him. You have bigger fish to fry, and you refuse to let some grade A fuckboy get in your head.

Unfortunately, you are not as in control of your thoughts as you’d like. This is bad, really fucking bad, you think. Last night, you actually successfully managed to cum on your own. That should be a good thing, but the reason you came is absolutely humiliating. An embarrassing, taking-it-with-me-to-the-grave secret.

You may or not may not have came to the thought of Donghyuck. How his fluffy hair would look clamped to his forehead, or how his forehead would look dripping with sweat. Imagining his fingers replacing your own, fingering you with his rings on, the coolness of them against your skin. But what really did it was probably the image of him between your thighs that was planted in your brain the second he offered himself to you. You thought of what good his lips could do, and how they’d look dripping all wet.

This is fucking terrible. You haven’t came in god knows how long, and the one time you do after forever, it’s because of the man you’ve sworn to hate until the day you die. Usually this is something you’d rant to your best friend about, but after what happened the last time you told him about your sexual frustrations, you decide you’re going to keep this one to yourself. If Donghyuck ever heard you came to the thought of him eating you out, he’d literally never in a million years ever let you live it down.

Today’s a new day, but you haven’t been able to shake off the shame, particularly because tonight’s Renjun’s party, and being one of his best friend’s, Donghyuck will undoubtedly be there. He’s posted it on his story and everything, not that you were checking. You overheard Yangyang talking about it. But either way, you don’t know if you’ll be able look him in the eye again.

“It’s a good thing you’re going out again,” Yangyang assures, walking next to you as you two stroll into the party, “maybe you’ll meet someone else to help you get out of your dry spell.”

He’s right. This is your chance to get laid, get over whatever that was with Donghyuck, and move on. You’re like, ninety-nine point nine percent convinced you’re only attracted to him out of sheer desperation. The measly zero point one percent comes from you being aware that you’ve thought he was attractive long before yesterday happened, but whatever. Forget it.

So you nod in agreement. Soon enough, you’ve settled with the party atmosphere. You’ve had a drink but you’re not drunk, and you’ve tried socializing but everyone seems so not your style, which is insane, because Donghyuck isn’t your style either. You don’t think. No, he’s not.

This is worse than you initially suspected. You can’t find anyone, and Donghyuck’s still running through your mind, being a complete and utter distraction and he’s not even here—

Speaking of the devil himself, “Hey.”

You spoke too soon.

“Ohmygod, if you’re here to try and seduce me again, I’m not interested,” you groan, hoping he gets the message and leaves you the fuck alone. At the same time you really don’t, but you definitely think you should.

Donghyuck raises his hands, “But I’m egotistical. I just came here to invite you to a game of truth of dare with the gang, lighten up a lil, won’t ya?”

You sigh. “Where?”

He leads you to the room where everyone is, and you make sure to scoot next to Ningning and Jennie, refusing to sit anywhere besides Donghyuck. All you hope now is that the bottle doesn’t land on you after him.

A couple of rounds fly by, and you’re still safe. You’re having fun, and the thought of him escapes your mind with ease. Even when the bottle does land on you, he doesn’t dare you to do anything crazy that you thought he would.

After Yangyang’s turn, the bottle lands on you. You’re not worried, because Yangyang’s your best friend, he wouldn’t dare you to do anything stupid.

Then he does exactly that.

“Seven minutes in heaven with Donghyuck!”

You’re going to kill him. You’re mentally plotting his murder right now. How you’re going to do it, when, and where you’ll hide his body. If he suspiciously winds up missing, you’re more than likely the reason why.

“Pucker up, buttercup,” Yangyang blows you a kiss.

You spit back, “Shut up, bubble guts.”

You hear him gasp in offense, but whatever he says is cut off by Donghyuck.

“Come on, babes. I can hear your lips calling my name,” he teases, and you groan, clutching your fist. You guess there’s no way out of this. Well, technically there is, but Renjun let Yangyang choose the punishment and he decided to make anyone who refused to do a dare eat a spoonful of sour cream. Mind you, sour cream by itself is disgusting, and this is probably why he and his stomach are frequently at war, so your safest option is getting in that room with Donghyuck for seven minutes. You don’t even have to kiss, you can just let everyone think you did.

So you follow him into the bathroom connected to Renjun’s room, and the second the door shuts, he has you backed into yet another wall. He grins, “Change your mind yet?”

You stand your ground. “No.”

“That’s fine, we can make out in the meantime and then see how you feel after seven minutes.” he replies nonchalantly.

Even though you’ve been thinking about it, you grimace. “Gross.”

“What? It’s not my dick, why do you act like you hate me anyways? Not that I’m really complaining, I like when things are hard.”

“Bet you do,” you grumble. “And if I’m acting, then I must be Viola Davis.”

“Eh, I’d give you Keanu Reeves.”

You glare. “On second thought, I’m almost willing to kiss you if it means you’ll keep quiet.”

“Well you’re in luck,” Donghyuck grins, “because that and giving head are the only ways to silence me.”

You cave in soon later, letting him pin you to the wall, your hands above your head as he kisses you hungrily. It kills you to learn that he’s a great kisser, because that means he’s actually good at something other than running his mouth and being the bane of your existence twenty-four seven. Though you don’t know how that’s possible, he’s gentle yet rough. Caring in his movement, though passionate in them too. The way he’s kissing you, you’d think he loved you.

In spite of your obvious attempts to try and touch him, to maybe run your fingers through his hair or hold his cheeks in your hands, Donghyuck doesn’t let you move. You can feel the teasing grin bloom from his lips, and conclude that it’s intentional.

Never in a million years did you think you’d be french kissing Lee Donghyuck of all people, yet here you are. You can’t say you don’t like it, though. That would be lying. While you’d never admit anything like it, the roughness in the way he kisses you has you throbbing.

Donghyuck’s lips are like a drug. You stop for a moment to inhale, and then you’re lips are latched back onto each other. Exhale again, then you take another drag, and the cycle repeats. You could do this for fucking ever.

Then, the timer chimes.

“Time’s up!” Chenle yells from outside the bathroom, and Donghyuck pulls always almost instantly, surprisingly readier than you are.

He looks hot as he pants, chest rising and falling then rising again. He smirks, “Change your mind?”

God fucking damn it. Time went by a little too fast for your liking. Your lips are swollen, but you want more of him, to feel him, to touch him, especially because he didn’t let you. You’re finally admitting to yourself that you want him, and you can’t ignore your cravings anymore.

“Donghyuck,” you whimper, not caring in this moment who hears you, “w-want you.”

He smirks. “I know, baby. You wanna prove to me how much?”

You nod. It’s pathetic, truly, but you need this at this point. So you let Donghyuck lead you out of the bathroom, and essentially the bedroom, ignoring the curious sounds coming from your friends. He leads you down the hall into a different, emptier room, closing and locking the door behind the two of you.

“On the bed,” he instructs.

You comply, the desperation that accompanies having not slept with someone in months and orgasming in weeks making you leap into action in an instant. Then there’s this raw part of you that has lusted after him before you fully came to terms with your desire, making you feel the way blood courses through your veins.

Donghyuck walks up and kisses you again, this time allowing both of your pairs of hands to roam freely as you strip one another almost bare. In an eager motion, you peel away his shirt and jeans, and he matches your yearn, leaving you naked. He pulls away from your lips to eye your body in awe.

“You’re a bitch,” he says, “but a beautiful one.”

“Really turned me on,” you deadpan.

He laughs yet pushes your back flat against the mattress, wasting no time in hovering above your body. The proximity has your heart racing a little quicker, a little faster than it was out of something like anticipation. Donghyuck dips his head but doesn’t kiss you like you anticipate him to, at least not on the lips. His lips scout your neck, soft and sweet against your flesh. He sucks at your skin, and your mouth gapes a little, sounding the most sweet gasp before he digs his teeth in suit. It makes you whimper aloud his name, which he clearly enjoys from the way he smiles.

Donghyuck repeats a course of similar actions as he mouth scoots lower, kissing and sucking and biting at your collarbone. Then he proceeds after some time, traveling lower and taking your breast into his mouth or his tongue swirling over your nipples. He trails kisses at your sternum, your stomach, all the while your breath getting caught up in your throat the more his mouth falls down your body. He’s so obviously teasing you, you know that much. He has a destination yet no rush to get there, taking his sweet, precious time as though he’s rich of it. And maybe he is, but your patience is running thin, and there’s only so much more of this you can take. “Hyuck,” you cry out of sheer desperation, “hurry up.”

“For someone who claimed not to want me up until ten minutes again, you really are desperate for me,” Donghyuck replies, drawing his mouth away, and hence all contact there was.

Refusing to simply take that, you retaliate, “For someone who claimed they could make me feel good, you’re doing a whole lot of nothing right now.”

“Keep running that sharp mouth and I’ll have to put it to better use,” Donghyuck answers. It isn’t like you’re against giving head, and it wouldn’t sound so bad if you weren’t so painfully deprived of the same satisfaction Donghyuck’s offered to give you. Sure, the speed—or lack of the—heightens the anticipation, but you need him to quit teasing or you’ll actually go insane.

“You keep acting like you hate me,” Donghyuck moves between your legs, and you aren’t prepared for what he does next. Something about the way he slowly smooths his single finger through your folds and draws it into his mouth for a taste is hot to you, thus making you wish he’d finally get on with it. “But your cunt is telling me that you love me. Love this.”

Well it isn’t like he’s wrong. You haven’t been this wet in ages, the dry spell you’ve been under being extreme and severe. Touching yourself has gone absolutely no where up until last night, when you somehow managed to cum harder than you have in a minute. You’re starting to think that having Donghyuck as your muse changes things.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. You’d love this more if he stopped making you wait, but you don’t say that aloud, starting to suspect that the more you complain the longer he silently decides he’s going to test your patience. After what feels like an eternity of touching you everywhere but where you desperately need him to most, Donghyuck’s tongue draws a line between your thighs. Then another, and another. It progresses into more with no particular rush, despite the inevitable whines you can’t prevent from falling out. “Hyuck,” you cry again, wishing he’d stop playing games.

Donghyuck teases, “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” you beg, “Please, please. I-I want, fuck no, I need this. Please, fuck—”

Your pleas are cut short the moment Donghyuck gives in, lapping at you with an unquenchable thirst and insatiable hunger. It’s so sudden that it gives you whiplash, and he has to grip your thighs to keep them spread a safe distance apart. He’s unstopping once he begins, tongue maneuvering as it pleases, roaming around freely though expertly. Had you known Donghyuck was as much bite as he was bark, you may have gave in to this much sooner than you did. Not only is he making you feel good, but he’s making you feel great. If you could taste heaven, it would be this.

Some moments pass, and the humiliating part is that it isn’t a lot of moments. Your thighs are trembling more with every lick, resulting in Donghyuck’s grip around your thighs to tighten out of consideration that you might successfully slip out of his grasp. You stomach turns, flips, and you’re vision is being clouded white, so close to an orgasm that it hurts. Donghyuck senses it, you know that he can, you can feel the arrogant smirk spreading across his lips once more. Just as you’re getting so close, as your orgasm is right there in arms reach, being dangled in front of you by a string, he snatches it away.

There’s yet another whine from you, but he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask, “Want you to cum when I fuck you, baby.”

Donghyuck removed his boxers, leaving them on the ground to be cared about later. His erection springs flat against his stomach in a way that makes you so suddenly inhale a breath, and you clench around absolutely nothing at all. You’re gawking at him as though you want to eat hm, and in a sense you do, but you can’t be blamed. It looks better than you could’ve ever imagined, decent length, decent girth. The real brag-worthy factor, however, is if he knows what to do with what god has blessed him with.

His dick nudges your slit. “Ready?”

Without wasting an eighth of second you give him the go-ahead, nodding your head at instance so fast it almost hurts your neck. He reacts equally as fast, prodding his dick between your folds and eventually your walls. It stretches you out perfectly, and the moment he’s in you Donghyuck’s moaning about how tight and wet you are. He takes a moment for himself before he starts to move, gliding in and out of you in an effortless motion.

So far, Donghyuck has lived up perfectly to your imagination and expectations, much better, even. You never would’ve thought he’d actually have the right to brag about how good he is in bed, but you see it now. He’s a god even, not that you’d ever tell him that to his face.

“So pretty, wish I could have gotten to you sooner. Always telling me that you hate me yet letting me fuck you like this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve always wanted this,” Donghyuck says into your ear, and pecks your neck. “Are you always this needy? So desperate that you’ll let even me fuck you?”

“G-god, yes,” you don’t care about overpriding him anymore, just saying things because you aren’t in the right mind to care about anything other than his dick right now.

“Yeah?” He smirks. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

You’re almost too fucked out to speak, just moaning and whimpering in a way you never thought you would for him, “Feels good, so… so good. Love it.”

If you were in the right mind to have shame, you’d be embarrassed by the way your number-one enemy is making you moan, and not just because of the volume, but because it’s his name your moaning so pathetically. Choruses of “Hyuck” sounding from you in plethoras, calling his name with no actual reason. You’re breathing in little shallow, quick breaths, too, mouth agape as your whimpers tumble into the air. It helps that Donghyuck’s also surprisingly vocal, calling your name back. To say the least, the way he moans your name is hot and gets you off a little more, in spite of you not needing the help. He has it all on his own, fucking into you deep and hard.

Donghyuck gropes your body too, heightening your pleasure by fumbling with your breasts or rubbing your clit with one of his free hands. He doesn’t focus on one particular part of you, showering your figure with pleasure and attention that makes the sex a billion times better.

“Can I choke you?” He asks, and the question catches you a little off-guard, but once you shake off the surprise, you give him permission.

Donghyuck’s hands slither around your neck, and he presses into your jaw with just enough force to make you look at him, and silently communicate that he wants you to keep your eyes him and his actions. His fingers press onto the sides of your throat, and you’re not sure what is a bigger turn on, the fact that he knows how to properly do it or the action itself. You think it’s a bit of both, you enjoy the thrill as you look defeated by your inability breathing, and the dark look in his eyes tells you that he enjoys it too, staring straight into your soul, watching you fail to take a breath.

He doesn’t loosen his grip on your throat as he commands, “Open your mouth.”

You aren’t in the mind to question anything, simply following instructions. His mouth hovers above yours, lips parting to spit in your mouth. The action takes you by surprise yet again, but you swallow almost instinctively, never looking away from him as you do.

He backs away once satisfied, smiling. “So good for me, baby.”

That makes you clench around him, which also brings Donghyuck the satisfaction of a moan or two. He loves the way you clench around him when he says things to you, a telltale sign that you’re enjoying this more than he knows you’d probably like to admit. This whole thing between you and him, him and you is that you’re too stubborn to admit your desire. It prides him that he finally managed to make you confess it, to admit that you’re no different from anybody else. That he can still get under your skin, and does a fairly good job at that. Not only does it make him feel good about himself, but it makes him feel good right now. Your reactions, all your moans and your fucked out face, the whimpering and the begging, it all gets him off more.

That knot in your stomach is forming again, and he has you clenching around him regularly soon afterwards, and he can tell that this time, it’s not because of his words. It’s because you’re about to orgasm. “I’m close,” you announce, once again feeling all the flips and turns twisting about in your gut. It’s a good thing Donghyuck’s close too, being obvious from the way his thrusts aren’t as smooth as they initially were.

“Me, too. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he urges you on, and you let him drive you to the edge.

He makes you see white again, vision fogging the color and your voice a high-pitched moan of his name as you climax, grinding your hips into his as you intend to ride out your orgasm. In some high, trance-like state, you’re not sure when he cums, but you know that it wasn’t that much longer after you did, and then he slid out, flopping beside you on the mattress. You lie there in near-silence that consists of nothing but heavy breathing, wondering to yourself if this actually happened. You don’t regret it, not now anyways, and it was definitely a satisfying way to break your dry spell, but now you’re starting to question if it was a bad decision. He hasn’t even asked if—

“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks, seemingly needing a moment to catch his breath before he could gather words.

His words cut through your thoughts, leaving you to accept that maybe he’s not that much of an asshole. It’s the bare minimum, so he’s still an asshole, but not that much of an asshole. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m good.”

“Good,” he grins. “So, you wanna ditch this party and go get some Chinese food? I’m starving.”

“You want to go get food with me?” you say, sounding wholly and utterly surprised and unconvinced. This man spends every other day of his life bothering you, and now he wants to pick up some food with you?

“I mean, if you don’t want free Chinese food that I’m paying for with my money, then fine, suit yourself, I’ll just get it by my—”

“No!” You interject, sitting up immediately as you scan the room for your clothes. “I’m down. Kinda hungry, too.”

“Good,” Donghyuck says. “Chop, chop. We don’t have all night, they close in like less than an hour from now.”

Standing out of bed to put your clothes on, you consider to yourself that maybe you’ve assumed a lot about him without getting to know him. He’s definitely got an ego on him, that a blind man can tell, but he’s not really an asshole.

“Yo, I just realized something.”

“What?”

Donghyuck smiles bashfully, “I don’t have my wallet on me.”

Nevermind. He’s one-hundred percent definitely an asshole.

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 52 || The Things Done in Private

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, smut, & angst if u squint.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.6k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——WHILE YOU WERE BUSY confessing your love to Choso and having that long-ass conversation in his car, Geto and Yuki had been left in the cafe.

When you initially left to chase after Choso, Geto and Yuki turned to each other before laughing. They found the entire thing entertaining more than ever and swore they were watching a drama unfold.

But, after the shared laughter, Yuki smacked Geto’s arm, “Now, why the hell did you cause all that?” She asked with a raised brow.

Geto snickered, “Because there’s too much they don’t know about each other.”

Yuki scoffed, “Meaning?”

“I can’t explain it all to you since it’s not my place but, trust me when I say, there are things she needs to talk to him about,” Geto explained vaguely.

“Right… So you and her really were good friends?”

“We could’ve ended up besties,” Geto hums, shrugging to himself, “But, I didn’t want to put myself between her and…”

“Her and Choso?” Yuki questions with a tilt of her head.

“No, someone else,” Geto murmurs. He didn’t want to mention Gojo again because, in his mind, Yuki didn’t need to know all of your business, “Anyway, I brought up Sukuna to help the two. Watch them come back as a married couple within the next thirty minutes.”

Yuki scoffs, “Y’know what, let’s bet on it!” She exclaims, moving to stick her hand out, “Thirty minutes; she comes back alone ready to kick your ass because you fucked it all up for her.”

Geto snickers and moves to shake the blonde’s hand, “Thirty minutes; they come back together happier than ever.”

The two shake each other’s hands firmly, solidifying their bet and deciding that the loser would have to buy the winner something.

Turns out they were both wrong though because as they spent the rest of their time together talking and catching up, two hours had passed, and neither you nor Choso had returned. It was raining outside and the sound of thunder is what caused Geto to remember the bet made.

He turned to look out the window behind him, seeing how hard it was raining, and letting out a scoff, “Seems we were both wrong.”

“Think they’re okay?” Yuki asks.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Geto shrugged, “Probably long gone by now anyway.”

Yuki sighed and moved to rest her cheek against her knuckles, “That’s no funn, they were supposed to come backkk…”

Geto shakes his head at the woman as he moves to stand up, her eyes following him, “It’s for the best, I’m sure. Plus, it started raining not too long after they walked out so it makes sense they didn't come back.”

She rolls her eyes at him, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Where are you going?”

“Home,” Geto sighs, “I have a roommate to feed.”

Yuki lets out a snort, “To feed? You talk about Gojo as if he were a pet.”

“He is sometimes,” The raven-haired male jokes, “But I meant I should go home and tell him what happened here, he’d want to know.”

She raises a brow, “Why?”

“He’s nosy and will wanna know why I stayed out longer than I told him I would,” Geto explains, chuckling to himself as he grabs his things.

“So basically,” Yuki starts laughing a bit, “You have to keep your boyfriend updated with your social life?”

Geto frowns, “He’s not my boyfriend, stop that.”

The woman begins to snicker, “Right, right, sure.”

Geto rolls his eyes and after grabbing his bag, he turns to walk away, “I’ll see you later, Yuki.”

“Oh come onn, you can’t just leave me here!” She huffs, “At least give me a ride homeee…”

“Nope, you’re the one who thought a bike would be a better investment than a car,” Geto replies as he furthers away from her.

The sound of her groaning dramatically is the last thing Geto hears before exiting the cafe. He was lucky enough to have an umbrella in the bag he brought with him so he quickly opened the item and swung it up and over his head.

Making his way through the parking lot, he sees that Choso’s car is no longer where it was earlier and the sight makes Geto curious. He then glances to where he remembers your car being parked and once he sees it was left in the same place, he smiles to himself.

He knew things would work out just fine.

After that, Geto makes it to his vehicle and steadily gets in. Today was quite the day and he started to wonder what his best friend was doing while you were here at the cafe all this time…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The answer to that was simple. 

Gojo Satoru had been going through it at home. Since he had the apartment to himself and no Suguru to vent to because he was out, Gojo was quite literally losing his mind.

From the second you walked out the door, Gojo rested his head against it and wondered if he should go after you and take everything he said back. Perhaps there was a way for him to fix things-

Yeah, no. He purged those thoughts from his mind the moment they came. And of course, to make matters worse, you left him with an annoying tent in his pants.

Gojo let out a groan as he lifted his head from the door and trudged to his bedroom. He kicked his door shut and shuffled over to his bed, laying face first against it and grunting at the friction against his member.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Gojo grumbled to himself. It was one of those aggravating boners that wouldn’t die down.

You often left him like this too. Nearly every time Gojo had the pleasure of kissing you, he’d gotten hard. Whether it was during the kiss or directly after, it never mattered, his cock always sprung up because of you.

Hell, even on Christmas when you first hugged him he had to control his body. You made him feel like a teenager with the way the smallest touches from you went straight to his dick.

As of now, his tip was leaking in precum the more he thought about you. Gojo had to shift around to lay on his back, his legs hanging off the bed as he stared up at his ceiling still thinking about you.

Do you know what you do to him?  Are you aware of how much the very idea of you turns him on? Gojo shuts his eyes to try and calm his thoughts but it’s no help, the second his eyelids shut, he’s picturing you all over again.

His hand moves on its own to rest over the bulge in his sweats as he has images of you staring up at him in his head, the sound of you uttering his name simply echoing through his brain.

Fuck, he loved the way you said his name. His fingers curl around his length and he palms himself through his clothes. He’d do anything to hear you moan his name again.

It feels like it’s been forever. Part of Gojo feels like he should’ve kept you with him longer. You were in such a perfect position too, all he’d have to do was lift you up against that door and fuck you right then and there.

His hand movements over the prominent print of his cock grow more eager and Gojo sighs heavily. Then, he decides that his boner isn’t going to go down on its own so he might as well just take care of it already.

Gojo starts to move around, shifting his sweats down enough and sitting up while pulling his phone out. He could use his imagination of you to get off no problem but, another idea had come to mind. It was perverted of him but he didn’t care.

His fingers tapped over his phone screen quickly, moving to head to the nearest social app, which in this case was Instagram. He knew yours by heart and was quick to type it in, feeling like such a pervert as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.

Gojo was beyond desperate so he went through your page, finding a picture of you from the summertime. The caption said something about the last photo being taken by Shoko but Gojo wasn’t paying attention to any of that.

There was a collection of images posted, one in particular imprinted in the man’s brain from a while ago. He swiped through the images before he landed on it. It was taken in a bathroom, dim lighting showing what was important and good god Gojo’s cock was twitching at the sight.

It was the only image posted that could be considered a thirst trap. You hand one hand on the counter and the other up at your lip, the pose seeming as though you were checking yourself out in the mirror. In your reflection, your cleavage was exposed and one of the straps to the thin tank top you wore was hanging off your shoulder.

You were braless but no one could really tell unless they paid close enough attention, which Gojo did. Then, the entirety of your back profile was revealed as well, the arch you had as you leaned forward and the way the small shorts you wore clung to your ass made Gojo let out a heavy breath.

This was so fucked up. He shouldn’t be doing this but there he was anyway, reaching his hand into his briefs and tugging his cock out.

So much of your skin was exposed and the shorts you were wearing was the perfect tease. Gojo knew what you looked like beneath all that after all, he knows what you feel like, what you smell like, what you sound like.

So, this photo of you was just enough to feed his imagination. He knew you at the time this picture was taken, just never talked to you. 

Even so, none of that mattered right now, not when this one photo was enough to have Gojo’s mind running rampant. His hand started moving on its own, a groan leaving his lips as his fingers wrapped around his cock and he began to jerk himself off.

He’d done this plenty of times with you in mind but never to a photo before. What would you think if you saw him like this? Legs spread, veiny hands running up and down his shaft as his eyes remained glued to such a teasing picture.

“Fuck,” Gojo moaned, just thinking about you ever seeing him like this drove him crazy.

He soon tosses his phone and just leans back a little, focusing on relieving himself. All he needed was that image in mind to continue, his imagination coaxing him through his acts.

Gojo let out a pant as he started to picture you instead of his hand. He remembered so vividly how you forced him to list all the things he missed about you whilst teasing him, the way your index was swirling around his tip so teasingly— he mimicked the motion and had to bite his lip to conceal a whine.

He recalls how small your hand is compared to his cock and the way you’d jerked him off so slowly. Gojo has every moment with you imprinted into the forefront of his brain, if he thinks hard enough, he could almost feel you over him again.

Your cunt was always so damn wet, so tight, so fucking intoxicating. Gojo’s hand began to increase in pace, slick sounds of him jerking off filling his room. He wishes that the last time he had sex with you, he was able to touch you because fuck is it torture to think back on it now.

He wanted so badly to grab onto your hips and fuck his lengthy cock up into you, only to praise you for taking him so well. And then there was today and the sounds you let out just from a couple of kisses. How whiney and breathy your voice had been as you’d uttered a simple don’t stop while grinding against his leg.

Gojo missed touching you already. His eyes shut for a moment and his lips parted, a whine of your name leaving his lips. Now he was making up scenarios in his head, using that picture you posted as inspiration. He could only imagine the kind of sounds and expressions you’d make if he was ever able to fuck you from behind.

He can picture how your eyes would roll back, the way your jaw would drop and you’d moan his name over and over, and even how your ass would feel bouncing off his pelvis every time he thrust into you. Gojo would take any kind of sex from you right now.

Sloppy sex where it’s all just a mess and both of you are completely fucked out, slow sex where he’s deep inside you and whispering in your ear how much he loves you, or even rough sex where he’s fucking you dumb and hearing you whine about how you can’t take it— even though he knows you can.

“S-Shit-,” Gojo moans again, knowing that you can handle him just makes his mind go blank.

Hell, you’d probably tease him if he were to have sex with you now, tell him how he’s not deep enough just to rile him up, order him to fuck you harder, and cum inside you. Gojo’s wrist was getting tired from how hard and fast he began stroking his dick.

He needed you so badly. He could hardly bring himself to a proper orgasm anymore. His eyes open and his free hand reaches for his phone again, this time he does something even more desperate. Gojo went to his voicemails, having one saved from you.

It was a while ago and you were cursing him out for something but his brain was too dazed with arousal to remember. What he wanted to hear was simply you saying his name. His thumb was shaking a bit as he went through the message you left, up until he heard your voice mutter his name.

“Satoru-,” He couldn’t hear anything else after that and his head went back, hand stroking himself even faster as he replayed that second of you voicing his name.

“Mmgh… fuck, n-need you s’bad, sweetheart,” He mumbled out, as if you could hear him. Gojo was releasing his moans and groans more freely now.

He soon looked down at how his hand slid up and down his cock so quickly, the amount of precum that’d come out smothering his length and making it seem like he already came. Gojo whined and even whimpered when he pictured you above him, you rode his dick so well that he’d never be able to forget it.

He vividly recalls how your folds parted around his cock, how eagerly your cunt sucked him in. Shit, speaking of sucking, he wished he got to experience that mouth of yours. 

Geto bragged about it to him before, telling him you knew how to throat cock surprisingly well. How you’d keep your eyes up despite them watering and flicking to the back of your head. The way you felt moaning around his shaft-, Gojo was losing it.

He had dropped his phone to the side again and his free hand went to his bedsheets, knuckles turning white as his fingers curled into them. His cock ached in his hand, tip twitching as he started to cum mid-stroke. 

He didn’t stop though, whimpering out your name so softly as his dick remained hard and he started overstimulating himself.

“Oh shit-,” Gojo moaned into the air, “F-Fuck, fuck… god-,” He tossed his head back again and the wet sounds of him jerking off grew even louder and messier as he spread his cum all over his cock.

You had him this much of a mess. He got this horny because of you. Gojo doesn’t know if he’s ever feined for sex from a specific person this badly in his life. He’d take anything from you, even a text from you right now would help him.

He ended up laying back as he kept stroking himself, recalling the smallest moments with you to get himself off. For example, when you had sex with Suguru, he remembers how you moaned and how loud everything was. He remembers the sound of you creaming around his best friend.

Gojo’s member was twitching again while he remembered how loudly the slap of your skin to his best friend’s was. His hand squeezes around his cock and he chokes as he recalls you riding him in a similar way. His dick had just slipped in and out of you so nicely, so perfectly, he wanted to feel that again.

Then Gojo could only imagine what you were like with other guys, what things you did with them, and how you looked doing so. 

He cums yet again at the thought and wonders if you knew the things you did to his body. His orgasm was fine but he swore it’d be better if you were here.

Gojo’s hand eventually came to a stop and he relaxed himself, his cock softening as he huffed out heavy pants. How the hell was he ever going to function properly without you?

He knows he has to but it’d be hard. Did he really just let you go? He could’ve kept blackmailing you…

No. You’d hate that. You’d probably cry. Yeah, Gojo didn’t like thinking about that again. Seeing you cry and even once hearing you cry over the phone still haunted him.

He just finished jerking off to you and now all he can think about is the shit he put you through. But hey, at least it’s over now, right? At least you’re happy.

And safe.

That’s all he cares about at the end of the day. Gojo’s heart will heal. He’ll move on eventually. He’ll go back to normal sooner or later.

Right?

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Wrong. Within the next hour, Gojo was jerking off again.

He had a problem at this point because he was standing beside his bed with a picture of you on his phone as he got off to it. These acts of his just continued.

The slightest thought of you for some reason made his cock twitch back to life. Was he in heat or something? It’s like his body was craving you today more than ever and he didn’t know why.

Sessions of getting off to different pictures and thoughts of you went on and on up until the sound of Geto calling Gojo’s name was heard.

By that point, Gojo was sweating and he had to rush around his bedroom to clean himself off before responding to his roommate.

“Uh, g-gimme’ a sec’,” Gojo huffed.

Even from outside his room, Geto knew what had been going on. After all, it wasn’t the first time he came home to Gojo thirsting after you. Hell, there was a time Geto walked by the bathroom and heard Gojo moan your name.

He knew his white-haired friend had a problem but he never really knew just how bad it was. Or at least, he didn’t know Gojo was simply obsessed with you.

“Satoru, you can’t keep doing this man,” Geto sighed out to his friend.

They hadn’t even laid eyes on one another and Geto already knew what was taking Gojo so long to come out.

After a minute or two, Gojo emerges from his room. Geto had to blink a few times at the sight of his best friend because he was simply a mess.

His hair was disheveled, his eyes were low, heavy pants leaving his lips, the shirt he clearly just put on already had sweat on it, and overall Gojo looked like he just run a marathon.

“Can’t keep doing what?” Gojo questioned casually.

Geto gave the man a blank stare as if to say he’s not dumb and he knew his best friend better than anyone but, afterward, he simply rolled his eyes, “Never mind.” He hums before turning away and heading toward their shared kitchen.

Gojo carefully followed behind his friend as he tried to clear his thoughts of you, “What do you mean never mind? I can’t keep doing what?”

“Jerking off to a woman who’s in love with someone else,” Geto says bluntly.

There’s a slight pang in Gojo’s chest but he ignores it as they both enter the kitchen, “I wasn’t-“

“Satoru, as soon as I walked in here, it smelt like dick…” He grumbles, his face twisting up in slight disgust.

“I-,” Gojo blinks and tilts his head innocently, “How do you know what dick smells like?”

Geto turns and looks at his friend with a blank stare, “I have one, idiot.”

“Okay but-“

“Enough, Satoru.” Geto says sternly, “I know what you were doing in there and there’s no need to deny it.”

“Right…” Gojo’s lips purse together as he goes to take a seat at the island in the middle of their kitchen.

“And I actually ran into your nut material earlier today.” The raven-haired male suddenly says before opening the fridge.

Gojo scoffs, “Nut material? Please don’t call her that.”

Geto snickers at his own comment, “That’s what you treat her like.”

Gojo frowns, “I do not-“

“Saw her with Choso, by the way.” Geto interrupts as he swipes a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“Oh.” Gojo chirps. Then his eyes go wide, “Oh?!”

“Yeah, oh.” He hums.

“How uh,” Gojo swallows hard. He can only imagine what it was like for you to be in the same area as Geto and Choso at the same time, “How did that go?”

“Oh I started an argument.” Geto shrugs before shutting the fridge and opening his water casually.

Gojo’s face twists up, “You what? Why would you do that? And how?”

“Brought up Sukuna just to test the waters, turns out she doesn’t know much about him aaaand Choso was obviously unaware that she slept with him.” Geto snickers a bit as he recalls how it went down.

“Y-You… You could’ve fucked everything up for her!” Gojo suddenly shouts.

His roommate doesn’t seem to get why that’s a bad thing, “Wouldn’t that have worked out in your favor?”

“No, no the fuck it wouldn’t have.” Gojo spits.

“And why not?”

“Because-,” Gojo lets out a heavy sigh, “The only reason she fucked Sukuna is because of me so who do you think she would’ve started hating again?”

Geto nods, thinking that his friend has made a fair point before he comments, “But at least she would’ve come back to you.”

“Yeah, come back to me hurting and pissed off.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Suguru, I don't want her to be with me, I want her to be happy,” Gojo explains.

His friend raises a brow at him, “Your actions say otherwise.”

“How?”

“When she left on Christmas you went in your room and cried the rest of the night.” He recalls.

Gojo scoffs, “I-“

“You don’t go a day without talking about her.” Geto continues.

“Suguru-“

“You’ve been talking about this woman for like three years now,” He reminds the man, “I’m not sure happiness is what you want for her. I think you just want her.”

Gojo stares for a long moment before looking away, “Well I can’t have her.”

“Why not?”

“Because I blackmailed her?” He says.

Geto tilts his head, “So?”

“What do you mean so?”

“Did she not forgive you?”

“Well she did but-“

“Then why couldn’t she have been with you?”

Gojo lets out a groan, “Because that’s fucked up, Suguru.”

“I think we established that a long time ago.” Geto scoffs, “Who cares if it’s fucked up? You pushed her away from you when she wanted to be fucked up with you.”

“She didn’t. She hated me and hated loving me even more.”

“And she has every right to but you’re missing the most important thing here; she loved you.”

“She shouldn’t have.”

“But she did.”

“Okay well, I can’t make her happy.” Gojo results in saying as he shrugs.

Geto bats his eyelashes at the man in confusion, “Why not?”

“Because I just can’t.”

“I don’t get you, y’know. You can’t even tell me what’s going on and I’m your best friend?”

“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” Gojo dismisses his question entirely, “The list is over and she’s happy.”

“Is she?” Geto challenges.

“Yes, yes she is.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I just do.”

Geto blinks, “That makes no sense-“

“Suguru, she’s happy now. Alright? Just leave it alone.” Gojo sighs.

The two get quiet after that. Geto moves to sip from his water and Gojo simply sits there with a tense expression.

After a while of silence, Geto just begins to explain how the entire cafe situation went from start to finish. He tells Gojo how he basically spilled the necessary info in order to give you the opportunity to tell Choso the truth.

Gojo asks why exactly he did that and Geto just tells him that he was right, you did seem happy but he knew that happiness wouldn’t last if the things you’d been doing never came to light. Again, Gojo gets upset and the two even argue about it.

That only results in Geto telling Gojo how you and Choso worked it all out anyway because when he left, your car was still there but Choso’s wasn’t.

Gojo couldn’t believe his best friend, even though the man was trying to help you, things could’ve gone so much worse for you. And knowing that made Gojo anxious because his best friend said that either way— Gojo would win.

If things went bad between you and Choso, you would’ve come back to Gojo without a doubt. But, since things went fine, Gojo still got what he wanted, which is you being happy.

So, Geto basically explains that what he caused was a win-win situation for his roommate who he knows cares oh so deeply about you.

Given that, by the end of their conversation, Gojo is still bothered by the chance of things almost going south for you but, he’s still thankful to his best friend to some extent. It’s not the worst thing that could’ve happened after all…

Thus resulting in Gojo back in his bedroom later that night, staring at your contact and wondering if he should call you. He didn’t want to ruin anything of course, he simply wanted to get info from you on how things went.

He knows you ended up leaving with Choso but that doesn’t tell him everything else that happened. Then again, Gojo is supposed to see you again to burn that cursed journal of yours so, he shuts his phone off and decides to simply wait until then.

He’ll learn everything when he sees you again and hopefully… Hopefully Gojo will be able to let you go. There’s too much guilt inside him to hold onto you any longer so he sees the burning of that journal as the end of a dark era for him.

That’ll be the end of his story with you, right?

Yeah, Gojo grins to himself, he thinks he can live with that.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[freedomfireflies]

American Psycho*

Summary: Part of Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun, and One for the Money*

The one where you and your boss, Mr. Styles, have a little bit too much fun at the office Halloween party.

Can be read as standalone!

Word Count: 4.6k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“What…are you wearing?”

Mr. Styles glances down at his dark suit, brow cocked upward. “What does it look like?”

“Har,” you huff, although you’re smiling as you toss your makeup bag aside and move closer, “I thought you were putting on a costume. It’s a Halloween party, you’re supposed to dress up.”

“I am,” he argues. “I’m dressed as a guy that doesn’t want to fucking go.”

You laugh. “Come on, be fun for a change.”

“I’m the boss. I’m not supposed to be fun.”

“Well, they’re throwing this party for you,” you remind him. “Nadia’s been talking about it all week.”

“Right, instead of working. Which is not what I pay her to do.”

“Harry,” you repeat, shooting him a pointed look. “Seriously, why don’t you put on a little fake blood or something? You could go as Patrick Bateman!”

“And why would I do that when I could just not go at all?”

Pushing your pink, painted lips into a pout, you straighten up onto your tiptoes, and snake your arms around his neck. “Please, Sir? Just this once? For me?”

He begins to frown, but you feel his hands find your hips, expression stern but amused. “Peach…”

“I won’t ever ask for anything ever again,” you murmur, letting your mouth ghost atop his teasingly. “Swear. And I’ll behave all night. Be so good for you.”

He likes this idea, studying you carefully as his grip tightens. “Is that so?”

“Incredibly so. Just want to have fun with you, Sir.”

“I know,” he sighs, now cupping his palm against your cheek. “But you know the rule, honey. We can’t be seen together, not at the office.”

“I know,” you echo. “But we can still go. Even if we can’t exactly hold hands and dance in front of everybody, we can have fun. And I want that for you. You never take the stick out of your ass.”

Pinching your jaw playfully, he snorts. “And I thought you were gonna be good.”

“Once you agree, yeah. Until then, I make no promises.”

With a smirk, he grasps onto your chin, and tugs you to him. Smashing his lips to yours until you exhale gratefully and melt into his touch.

“Besides,” you mumble, “if you don’t come with me, then I’ll have to go in my slutty costume all by myself.”

Now you have his attention, his eyes narrowing sternly as he leans back to see you. “Oh, really?”

You nod. “Yup. Thought I’d use some of the lingerie you got me and go as a Playboy bunny.”

You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips – even through his nice dress shirt – and it makes you chuckle.

“Did you?” He doesn’t seem to have much else to offer, but you can see his walls beginning to crumble.

“Mhm. Equipped with a fuzzy little tail and ears.”

He swallows thickly before clearing his throat in an effort to appear nonchalant. “Well, let’s see it then.”

“Only if you agree to go.”

“Peach,” he warns, frowning again but you’re quick to shake your head.

“That’s my deal, Sir. Take it or leave it.”

And while you can tell he wants to be cross with you, he begins to smile, clearly amused with your negotiation tactics. Perhaps even a little proud.

“Fine,” he finally concedes, making you grin. “But I’m not putting on any makeup.”

“No, just a little fake blood,” you suggest, immediately rushing toward your bag to retrieve the bottle. “It won’t stain, and it washes right out.”

He eyes you carefully while you scurry across his apartment. “And I suppose you’d like me to carry an ax, too.”

“I mean…it would sell the part,” you tease. “But let’s start with the blood. Go wait in the bathroom and I’ll go change really quick.”

“No, don’t,” he calls, almost firmly before you can slip from the room. “Not yet.”

You hesitate. “Okay…why? What’s wrong?”

His tongue runs over his bottom lip while his head cocks deviously to the side. “Because if you do…then we aren’t ever leaving this apartment.”

And you can’t help but grin.

“Let me guess…Edward Cullen?”

Even from a few feet away, you can see Harry’s expression fall. “Funny.”

“What?” Nadia smiles. “Come on, you look just like him. The blood and the suit and everything. It’s good.”

“Great,” he grumbles but you can tell he’s amused.

She laughs. “Patrick Bateman is a good look for you, boss. I like it. Feels…fitting.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. But in a sexy, fun kind of way.”

He snorts before his eyes trail over to you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You wink.

The party is relaxed but enjoyable. Everyone is mingling, drinking, and dancing to the upbeat, spooky playlist. The usually boring, gray interior of the office floor is decorated with orange lights, carved pumpkins, and an array of ghostly décor. And nearly everyone came in costume, making it feel that much more like Halloween.

And despite the fact that you and Mr. Styles are forced to remain distant, you find yourself admiring him from across the room almost all evening. Happy that he seems to have finally begun to unwind, relax, and even enjoy himself. 

You watch as he engages in chatter with some of the other men in the finance department. You catch his eye while you’re grabbing a drink of the festive punch. And you feel him stare as you and Nadia head to the middle of the floor to dance to Somebody’s Watching Me.

Truth be told, you find it hard to be away from him after so many nights together. And even though it’s what you both agreed on, you feel a certain sort of longing for the handsome man in the corner of the room. 

However, neither of you are quite ready to tell the office you’re dating yet or deal with the potential fallout. At least not right now, when things are so new. Special. You suppose that could change in the future, but at least for tonight, he’s your dirty little secret.

So you resort to exchanging sneaky glances from time to time as you enjoy the party. Like now, when you catch his subtle but devious smile from behind the shadows while his hand casually slips into his suit jacket pocket. 

It’s a nonchalant motion. Relaxed enough that you barely catch on as you and Nadia continue swaying back and forth to the rhythm. Enjoying the heavy bass and eerie tune. 

And then, suddenly…you feel it. The first, gentle vibration from the toy sitting snugly inside your pussy. 

Your breath hitches.

And now you understand his look of amusement and the disappearance of his hand. He’s testing out the toy, warning you of his intentions even from the other side of the room. 

Just like he promised.

After all, that was his only condition. He’d dress up, he’d play nice, he’d be a good boss.

But if he wasn’t allowed to touch you all night, he at least wanted to have some fun. And remind you that he is still the one you belong to.

A reminder he gleefully gives you now, turning up the strength on the small bullet inside your cunt while he continues chatting with Alex from IT.

He’s not looking at you anymore – something you almost despise – but it’s obvious that he’s entertained. Fighting against a wry grin as he nods along in conversation. 

You, on the other hand, are beginning to feel the effects of the teasing. A sharp, pleasurable chill running down your legs while you falter in place and swallow a gasp.

Confused, Nadia eyes you carefully. “You okay?” she calls over the music, leaning closer. “You look a little woozy.”

“I’m…no, I’m…I’m good,” you manage to stammer, forcing a nod before you continue with your dance. “S’just hot in here, I guess.”

“God, you’re telling me,” she snorts, running a knuckle under her eye to catch some smeared makeup. “Last time I commit to the leather pants.”

Exhaling a laugh, you slowly pull your thighs together, hoping to lessen the vibrations currently traveling through your pussy. “Well, you look great.”

“Thanks,” she laughs before gesturing up and down at your costume. “What about you, hm? This is the sexiest corset I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks, it’s quite hard to breathe in,” you retort playfully, glancing over the pink silk on your torso. “This will also be the last time I commit to lingerie in public.”

“Fair enough. But that’s what Halloween is for, right? So you can be your true, slutty self just for one night.”

You chuckle again before slowly looking over to catch a glimpse of your sadistic boyfriend. However, you find that the smug bastard is now nowhere to be found. Having disappeared from the room, leaving you to struggle without him.

And then, you feel the strength increase.

It’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore the pleasure building in your stomach or the sharp rushes of ecstasy that echo across your clit. Which you suppose is his goal, although you aren’t sure why he’s so determined to make you fall apart under so many obvious eyes.

But you imagine that’s part of the fun. The idea that even though he can’t be with you, he can control your pleasure.

And you have to admit…you adore him for it.

With a shaky exhale, you nod your head toward the exit. “I’m, uh…I’m gonna go get some fresh air for a bit. I’ll be right back.”

Nadia nods. “No problem. I’ll be here.”

Leaving her with a smile, you begin to search for where he might have gone. You imagine his office, although you aren’t quite sure how you’re meant to meet him when so many people are watching.

Sure, more than half the room is drunk or otherwise occupied, but you don’t want to taunt fate. Especially after begging him to come in the first place.

But the painful pleasure in your cunt is beginning to worsen and you realize rather quickly that there’s only one solution.

Him.

So, you take a deep breath and slip into the adjoining hall, traveling through the darkness until you find his door.

You take a deep breath and knock twice, calling a soft but hopeful, “Mr. Styles? Are you in there?”

The sound of a lock turning nearly makes you shiver, and you can’t help but grin giddily as the door swings open, and a hand outstretches for you.

You’re yanked inside before you can even offer a greeting, tossed mercilessly toward his desk while he slams the door shut, and turns to face you.

And he’s stunning. So effortlessly beautiful, even with the blood dripping down his face. You wonder if you should be worried you find this so attractive, but you don’t exactly have it in you to care. Because the way his disheveled suit hugs his broad frame is sinfully delicious and the ruby droplets smeared across his jaw makes your cunt clench around the toy.

He strides toward you, drinking you in like he’s dying of thirst. Eyes dark and clouded with salacious intentions. 

He takes hold of your face between strong palms and crashes his mouth to yours. Hips pushing you back until you collide with the wooden table just behind you. Trapping you there while you gasp for air and tangle your fingers in his messy curls.

He groans in response, nipping at your bottom lip until you can’t breathe. “Gonna fucking kill me, Peach. Walking around in this slutty little costume. Almost came in my pants when you bent over.”

You smirk lazily as his kisses move down your neck. “Good, that was my plan.”

He makes another animalistic noise before shoving at your waist a bit harder. 

One hand disappears back into his pocket while the other travels up your fishnet stockings and settles against your cunt. The heel of his palm pressing against your covered clit as his harsh kisses dance beneath your ear.

“Shit, Har—” you gasp before you feel him tug your skin between his teeth. “Sir. Please…need…”

“I know,” he grunts, increasing the power of the toy until you’re both moaning. “Can feel it, Peach. Feels good, hm? Feels so fucking good. Bet you’re gonna cum in your pretty, little panties before I even touch you, yeah?”

You make another incoherent noise as his hand pushes the toy further into your pussy. The electric vibrations reverberate across his palm, doubling the sensation until your head just about drops back. Making the bunny ears slip to the ground, forgotten. 

“Good,” he hums, and you feel a bit of his fake blood smear across your neck. “S’a good girl, honey. Already close, aren’t you? What a pathetic little thing. Always fall apart so fast when I use a toy to play with you.”

You nod quickly in agreement. After all, he’s right. Vibrators have you coming faster than almost anything else – besides his cock.

And his mouth.

This is a fact he utilizes now, nudging the vibrator further into you until your legs begin to shake. You can feel it in your stomach, the first unraveling as it becomes stronger, and louder, and faster.

You fling an arm around his shoulders for stability before you’re disintegrating beneath him. Writhing and squirming and panting as he sees you through. 

“There you go,” he whispers, mouth brushing over yours. Wanting to taste your moans as you come down. “You’re all right, my love. Doing so good, hm? Gonna give me another?”

You nod faintly and he smirks before reaching beneath your corset top to find the decorative panties attached to your costume. 

He shoves them aside without pause before ripping the delicate fabric of the stockings almost fiercely. And far too easily for your liking.

He then retrieves the small toy from inside your cunt – smiling when he feels how soaked the silicone has become – before he’s dragging it up to your clit. Pressing the stimulating tip into your sensitive and swollen nerves as you suddenly gasp and go reeling.

“Shh,” he hushes, glancing over your face. “Can’t be too loud, hm? Y’know I love it when you scream for me, but we can’t let me hear, can we?”

“It’s…it’s Halloween,” you counter. “They’re used to screams.”

But Mr. Styles merely smirks. “Be that as it may…I don’t want to share your screams with anyone else. Not tonight.”

You feel your head grow fuzzier as he dips down to take your lips with his.

“Tonight…your screams belong to me,” he exhales against your tongue before he’s pressing the vibrator harder against your cunt.

You’re a mess. Soaking his hand, your outfit, the toy. Shaking almost pitifully while he finally releases the remote to press his palm to the back of your neck. Forcing your faces together until neither one of you can breathe without the other.

He was right, you are pathetic. So goddamn tragic as you begin to shake beneath the bullet. Already close to your second orgasm of the evening before he’s even had a chance to tease you.

But you don’t think he minds. He collects your orgasms like Pokémon cards. Wearing the number proudly until you’re nothing but a pile of limbs in his arms.

Two is only a start. And you know as long as he has this toy, he plans to force you into many more.

“Fucking shit, Peach,” he groans, forehead resting against yours as he glances down at where his hand is settled between your thighs. “Oh, that’s my girl. Always behave so well for me. Knew you would, yeah? Just like you promised.”

Again, you can do nothing but nod weakly. Still clinging to his body like a lifeline while he strokes you through the aftershocks.

“Okay,” he finally sighs, removing the toy and swiping his thumb across your clit. Collecting the arousal waiting for him just to bring it up to his lips. “Okay, honey, turn around. Bend over the desk for me.”

You whimper at the way he takes his body from you and from the very idea of what comes next. You hate that you won’t be able to see his face, but you adore this position. Especially because of the way he manhandles you.

Like now as his hands suddenly grasp onto your hips to fling you around so you’re facing his large, floor to ceiling windows.

The city is beautiful at night. Lit up like a prize, vast and seemingly endless. It’s one of your favorite things about his office and you smile to yourself as you take in the view.

But you aren’t afforded the chance to daydream long before he’s weaving his fingers through your roots and pushing you down until your chest meets his desk. Keeping you bent and pliable as he undoes his leather belt.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, squeezing your scalp as though to reward you. “Gonna fuck you quick. Can’t have Nadia come looking for you, can we?”

You whimper a response before you hear his pants fall to the floor, followed by a snapping of elastic as he pulls his cock from his briefs. 

“Let me have a look at you,” he grits, releasing your head so he can stand back and admire your dripping pussy. Pulling back the costume until your cunt is on display for his hungry eyes. “So fucking cute, Peach. S’all pretty and red. Just weeping for me, hm?”

“Sir—”

“Get all sensitive when I make you cum a lot, don’t you?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer. “Your puffy little clit gets all swollen and achy, hm?”

“Yes…yes, Sir, please—”

“Just one more for now, yeah? Just one. And then I’ll take you home and do it right.”

There’s a racing in your chest that can’t be contained. A sharp thrill that lives beneath your skin. He’s everything. His voice, his touch, his intentions. Even his mind. It’s wickedly beautiful and you adore him more than anything in the world.

You feel his fingers smooth through your folds. Teasing you for only a moment before you feel his cock come into play. Repeating the action of pressing and slipping through the wetness that awaits him.

“Can’t tell you what this costume does to me,” he whispers, groping your side with one hand. Preparing you. “You, and this tight, little fucking top, and these goddamn tights. Everybody was staring when you came in. Fucking everybody and I could’ve killed them.”

You moan something akin to his name, but he’s not listening. He’s lost on you. On your body and the way it looks, spread out before him.

“Even this fucking bunny tail,” he snorts, and you feel him pinch the fuzzy ball on your ass playfully. “Sits so pretty on you, y’know. Just like that plug I got you.”

“Shit,” you mumble, stomach clenching at the memory. “Har—”

His hand comes down in a sharp strike to your left ass cheek as you jolt. “Uh-uh. What’s my name?”

“Sir,” you correct, eyes squeezing shut. “Sir, please…please fuck me. Need you so bad—”

“Do you, hm?” He lands another spank before smoothing over the area with calmer motions.

You nod. “You look so good, Sir. Can’t…can’t stand it.”

Even without being able to see him, you can picture his smirk. “Do I?”

“Yes,” you exhale, almost groaning from the thought. “Covered in blood, wearing my favorite suit. Even the way you did your hair. S’been so hard to keep my hands off you tonight.”

You hear a dark, rather sadistic chuckle. “You like the blood, do you?”

You whimper. “Know I shouldn’t, but…it makes you look so fucking hot, Sir.”

Another harsh smack to your ass. Louder this time. “You know how I feel about your cussing, Peach.”

“M’sorry, Sir. But it’s true. You’re so fucking hot like this.”

He spanks you a fourth time but he’s still chuckling. “I’ll remember that,” he murmurs, kneading the tender flesh in his palm. “Never thought my precious peach would have such dirty fantasies.”

“I don’t, Sir. Only when it’s you.”

And he seems to like this idea, cursing in the back of his throat before nudging the tip of his cock against your clit. Making you both gasp until he finds your hole.

The first push in is delicious. Slow enough to prepare you and ease you open, but it’s everything. Scratching an itch that makes your brain turn to mush. Until you’re nearly collapsing onto his desk with anxious whimpers. 

“Good,” he breathes from behind you. “Good girl. That’s it, my love. Let me in, just like that. You all right?”

Another faint motion of your head. One that almost concerns him as he laces his fingers back through your roots.

“Peach,” he grunts. “Know I need your words. And you will give them to me when I ask for them. So what’s your color?”

“Green,” you whisper, nails curling into the wooden table beneath. “M’sorry, Sir, I’m green. Just feels so good. Wanted…to focus. To feel you.”

You hear him sigh before he’s pushing in a bit further. “Then fucking feel me.”

He sits inside your cunt like he was always meant to be there. Warm and thick and the perfect stretch. Making the stars return to your eyes as you begin to cry out his name.

However, he releases your scalp only to reach around and smack his palm against your lips. Keeping you quiet as he begins his thrusts.

“Uh-uh,” he warns. “Be a good little bunny and stay quiet.”

The pace is slow at first. Just enough to drive you absolutely mad and you imagine the scariest thing about tonight is how easily you’ve become such a blubbering mess.

“Like it when Daddy’s mean, don’t you?” he calls, returning both hands to your hips. “Like it when I treat you like you’re nothing.”

You can feel the sticky substance of the fake blood smearing across your hips. Probably staining your clothes – an obvious mark of his touch. A mark you’d proudly wear for the rest of your life if he’d let you.

“So fucking wet, honey,” he hisses. “S’just drowning my cock, isn’t it?”

You offer a garbled noise.

“Yeah. Just dripping down me, baby. Begging me to do something about it. Begging me to fucking take you.”

Your entire body is shaking. Along with the desk and an assortment of papers and pens that become scattered with every sharp drive of his hips. 

And you can hear it. Can hear the sound of his cock slipping in and out of your pussy and echoing between the walls of his large office. Wet, and lewd, and almost pornographic in nature. It’s obvious how needy you are for him. How unhinged your body has become. Soaking him exactly the way he loves as he fucks himself into you.

You can feel the sweat beading at your hairline. Can hear your pulse thumping in your ears – in time to the music in the other room and the thrusting of his hips. Leaving you to do nothing but lay across his desk and take it. Take him, exactly the way he wanted.

“How about another, hm?” He squeezes your sides harshly before one hand leaves you. “Gonna give me another, my love?”

Nodding tiredly, you allow your lashes to flutter shut. Focusing instead on the sound of his voice and the rough touch of his fingertips. You can feel it building. Can practically taste the beginnings of a third orgasm. You’re powerless to the pleasure. Undone by the man behind you as he readjusts his stance and angles his cock up.

It’s wicked. The immense, overwhelming, and unfathomable coursing of lust between each joint, and muscle, and fiber. You can’t escape it, can’t fight it. Can’t even understand it.

That’s what you needed. That spot, that attention. Over and over and over, and he’s so good at hitting it just right. Only to drag his cock back out and leave you empty and wilted.

“Relax,” he orders firmly before a familiar buzzing reverberates between your ears. “Relax, Peach. It’s okay, honey. Just want one more.”

The bullet is snaked around your hip before it’s pressing firmly to your clit. Forcing the sensitive and swollen bud to succumb to the vibrations and bring you that much closer.

You cry out for a second time, hands scratching down his desk, but he only curses through gritted teeth.

“There you go,” he exhales, and it’s thick. “S’okay, I’ve got you.”

He’s a mad man. Deranged and borderline animalistic with the way he demands your body bend to his will.

“Sir—” You suck in a large gasp for air, but it’s useless. “Har, please—”

His large palm spanks down on your ass as punishment, but he doesn’t comment on your slip.  “I know. Almost there. Know you’re almost there, can feel you clenching, baby. Keep going. Feels so fucking good—”

“Can’t…can’t—”

“Yes, you can. Know it hurts, but you can do it. You’ll do it, come on.”

And you want to, you do. More than anything, but it’s almost too good. You can’t think properly, can’t seem to relax long enough to let the orgasm overtake you.

Then, he’s wrangling you up. Pulling you until your back is pressed against his chest while he nudges his nose against your cheek. Inhaling you with a groan before he trails a few open-mouthed kisses along your neck. 

And in the reflection of his office windows, you see your silhouettes.

You, in your stunning Playboy costume, tits bouncing up out of the corset with each thrust, fake blood painted across your face and neck.

And him.

The devastatingly wonderful man behind you. Dressed in the sexiest suit you’ve ever seen, gelled curls gone askew, and that same blood dripping down almost every inch of him.

And he’s pounding his cock into your cunt like there’s no tomorrow. Trapping you against his body, your heaving chest in one hand, and the vibrating toy in the other. 

“So good, Peach,” he whispers. “So fucking good. Need you to cum, baby, please. Right now. Cum.”

And you do.

You don’t expect it. Have no time to prepare for it. Don’t even understand it’s happening until that white-hot explosion is dancing down your spine and expanding through your stomach. All the way into your toes as you whimper his name and wither in his touch. 

He does his best to hold you up while maintaining the pace he set. Faster and harder until he’s spilling inside of you with a moan. Mumbling your name while a hundred praises follow suit.

The aftershocks of this one seem to drag on longer than most. But you both indulge in the floaty feeling as you work to catch your breath. Syncopating to each other’s inhales until your heartbeats become one. 

“Did so good,” he sighs, nuzzling his cheek to yours. “God, so fucking good. Feel like heaven, you know that?”

You smile lazily and settle into his arms, allowing your weight to rest atop his. “Well…it’s easy when you look like this.”

He chuckles softly and kisses your temple. “You really do have a blood kink, hm?”

“No, I have a you-covered-in-blood kink. I don’t care when it’s anybody else.”

Now, he reaches out to slide his finger under your chin and turn your face to his. Staring at you for only a moment before he kisses you. Hard and yet filled with an emotion you just might recognize.

“Want you to do something for me, Peach,” he mumbles against your lips.

You nod quickly.

“Want you to fix your little panties…go down to my car…and wait for me.” 

You feel your breath hitch.

He smiles.

“We’ve got some videotapes to make.”

~ One for the Money Masterlist

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @buckyssbestgirl @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @caynonmoondreams @daphnesutton @uniquesexything @amateurduck @ilovec0lbybr0ck @winterrays @milfrrynation @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Innocence

Remus Lupin x f!reader

warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), fingering, slight hand job, virgin reader, purity ring 😮‍💨, making out, underage smoking, mention of underage drinking, slight innocence/ corruption kink, lmk if i missed any!

summary: remus learns the ring you wear everyday is called a purity ring, and he develops a strange obsession with it… and wanting to take it off you…

word count: 4.6k

a/n: guys.. dw there’s gonna b a part two but like omgggggg this made me feel so many things i’m in love with this. lmk what you think :) also i’m not religious so if any of this is not accurate i’m sorry lol it’s for the plot

part two is posted!!! here

~~~

Ever since he knew you, Remus noticed that one thing you always wore. It was plain, a simple gold band on your left ring finger, the marriage finger. Typically, such nonsense wouldn’t cross his mind twice, but you wore that ring damn ring every day. Since the first time he ever saw you, that ring was on your finger. He never saw you without it. So, his curiosity got the better of him.

Why would such a simple ring be so important that you never took it off? It couldn’t have been because you were married. No. You wore it even at the young age of eleven. Could it have been a family heirloom? That idea was plausible, however to him, it didn’t feel like the correct answer. And Remus Lupin always needed the correct answer.

So, he eventually decided to ask you.

During dinner one night, when you just so happened to be sitting next to him, his eyes caught sight of the ring and he eyed it suspiciously. You noticed this.

“Something wrong Rem?” You asked.

He looked up from the ring on your delicate finger to meet your confused eyes. “Why do you always wear that specific ring? And always on that finger? Is it special?”

“Oh.” You laughed for a few seconds. “Yeah, it’s stupid really, an old muggle tradition.” You composed yourself and looked up at him, a slight red tint to your cheeks. “It’s called a purity ring. Basically, I wear it as a reminder that I pledged to wait till marriage.”

Remus was confused, and he hated being confused. “Why would anyone wait till marriage?”

You shrugged. “Muggle religion is quite weird. They value keeping teenagers pure until they’re married. I think it’s stupid, but I still wear it.”

“So, you’ve done it but continue wearing it as a... symbol?” He questioned.

“Oh no, I haven’t done it. I might find it stupid, but I still plan to keep my promise. It’s sort of a nice accomplishment don’t you think? I’ve gone through two years of everyone shagging around me and I haven’t given in,” you answered.

He stared at you for a few seconds. You were still a virgin, and that ring was the reason. He thought for a moment. How could you be a virgin? He swore he had seen you go off with a bloke from Ravenclaw a few months ago during a party. But then as his eyes trailed over your small figure, he realized the idea wasn’t completely impossible. He’d never seen you with hickeys, he’d never seen you dress improperly, and he surely had never seen you enter the common room after a long night with someone. For some reason, it made a strange feeling bloom deep inside him.

“Surely you’ve at least done other stuff, right?”

You simply shook your head and took a bite from your sandwich. “Furthest I’ve ever gone is having some Ravenclaws tongue down my throat.”

Ah, so he was right about that.

“Besides, I don’t really even know much about any of that stuff. I mean I know biology, but that’s about it. And of course, what Marls and Mary tell me from their extravagant experiences,” you added after swallowing.

So that meant...

“You haven’t done anything?” He was surprised, it was clear in his tone.

“No need to sound so flabbergasted. Besides, why do you even care about what I’ve done? I always thought you were the modest type too,” you replied with an eye roll.

Remus looked away from you, and the urge to smirk took him over. He thought back to those countless nights over the summer breaks he’d spent with muggle girls. The feelings, the sounds, the tastes, all experiences he’d never forget. But by no means was Remus Lupin a player, oh no. He was nothing like his mate. However, he also wasn’t a saint like everyone painted him out to be.

“I may be modest but that doesn’t mean I’m a virgin,” he said after a moment, his eyes finally turned back to you. He liked the way you looked at him. “That went away a few summers ago.”

You smiled, though something about it was off, almost as if it were forced. “Well, cheers to that.”

“Cheers.” He nodded in agreement.

You turned back to the group conversation before he could say anything else.

~~~

Remus had thought after finding out what the ring's importance was, he would let it go and move on. Unfortunately, he had thought wrong. Ever since that conversation with you, he couldn’t get any of it off his mind. When he’d see you, he’d always look at your left hand, almost making sure that ring was still there. It always was. And for some reason it made him feel almost relieved. He needed more answers.

Thankfully, another opportunity came not too long after the first.

The two of you had been paired together in potions. Typically, he would be a bit upset with the fact given you were never the best in the subject. But for the first time, he was pleased with the pairing.

He watched as you cut up some of the ingredients, that stupid ring shining from the lights. Questions filled his head. Where had you gotten it? When did you get it? Who gave it to you? Did your parents know what it meant? What were you supposed to do with it when the time finally came? He needed to get the answers.

“So, when did you get it?” He casually asked his eyes on the cauldron.

“Get what?”

“The ring.”

You chuckled. “You’re still on about that? I suppose you aren’t too accustomed to muggle things. I got it right before I came here actually. My parents wanted to give me a reminder about life at home, and they wanted to make sure I knew where my ‘loyalties’ lay. Though, I was only a little girl. Did they expect anything to happen at that young?”

Three questions were answered. Good.

Remus dropped his chopped ingredients into the cauldron. “Does that mean you give it back to them when you finally do it?”

“Oh no. I give it to my husband of course,” you replied. “Do these look alright?”

He finally turned his head in your direction and looked over your cutting board then he met your eyes. “Perfect. You can put them in.”

“You don’t know how good that makes me feel to hear. Master of potions Remus Lupin says I’m perfect, I could faint,” you said as you scrapped your work into the cauldron, a hint of laughter in your voice.

He rolled his eyes. “I said your cutting was perfect, but if it makes you feel good, I suppose you are too.”

You looked up at him with a glint in your eyes that made an odd feeling form in his chest. You looked so damn innocent. How had he not noticed it before? You had always been one of the shyer members of Gryffindor, but he always brushed it off as nothing important. He never would’ve guessed just how innocent you were.

“How sweet of you.” You giggled.

“ ’Course, anytime love.”

He noticed the shift in your body at his words. How odd. You looked away from him for a few seconds, that familiar rose tint returning to your cheeks. Did you always do that? Did such simple words always make you blush and turn away? Or was it just him? He watched you bite down on your lip and fiddle with your ring.

You were teasing him.

It was then he decided he was going to get that ring from you.

And you were going to love it.

~~~

Getting you to that point was going to take some time, Remus knew that. But it didn’t stop him. He started simply. When the two of you were hanging out in the group, he made sure to at least say a few words to you alone. When eating meals, he made sure to get a spot next to you. Most importantly though, he started making sure to leave subtle hints. Lingering eye contact, small touches that weren’t necessary, comments that made your face turn red. He could tell all of it made you flustered, and he loved it.

During all of it, his obsession with your innocence only grew. He wanted to take it away. He wanted to taint you, to make you not so pure anymore. He didn’t understand the feeling, he never cared much for such stereotypical nonsense. But each time you looked at him with those curious, innocent eyes, it only made his patience strained.

The first breakthrough came during one of Sirius and James’s parties. The common room blared with music, and people laughed and danced. You were among them. Remus leaned against the wall next to the staircase to the boy's dorm, a cigarette between his lips as he watched you dance with Mary and Lily. Your smile was bright, your body moved to the rhythm almost perfectly. You wore a pretty little dress. But he couldn’t focus on any of that because that damn ring caught his attention.

It had become quite a distraction. He found himself staring at it far more than normal. During class and dinner, it consumed most of his thoughts. He needed to get it off your finger before it caused his grades to slip.

From across the room, your eyes suddenly found his. You gave him a questioning look; he only smirked back and released a cloud of smoke into the air. He watched you say something to the girls before you began to walk in his direction. Perfect.

“Why do you always stand on the sidelines?” You asked once you were close enough. “And if you’re going to stare at me all night you might as well just dance with me.”

He chuckled and took another drag from the cigarette. “I’m not the biggest fan of these parties and I definitely don’t dance.” He offered you the cigarette, and you shook your head and pointed to your ring. “Come on, that applies to cigs too?”

“And alcohol, pretty much whatever is considered sinful. Though, I have indulged in a drink or two. Mommy and Daddy don’t need to know about that,” you answered.

Merlin, he needed to do something with you. It was almost unbearable.

“You’re saying alcohol and cigs are sinful but intense snogging isn’t? Seems a bit hypocritical to me,” he eventually said.

You smiled and shrugged. “That’s muggle religion for you. It’s pretty much up to each person's interpretation and what they value. I value being sober more than refraining from a snog occasionally.”

“But a shag...”

“That’s universally seen as a big sin. Most of us would agree not to do it until marriage.”

He released another breath of smoke. “Most of you?”

“Well, not everyone agrees of course. Like I said, it’s technically up to everyone’s values. Murder is also considered a sin, you know. But even some people commit that,” you explained. He watched you blush. “I don’t think I should compare virginity to murder though.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a fair comparison,” he replied, his lips turned up into a smile.

You turned even more red. “Sorry. But you get what I’m saying, right?”

“Everything is optional is what you’re saying.” He let his eyes trail over your body, making sure you noticed. “So really, you could fuck someone before marriage.”

“I mean yeah, I could, but I don’t think I will,” you said. You began to fiddle with the ring again. “It’s sort of always been with me it would feel weird giving it to someone else.”

“Do you have to give it away for anything? Or just actual sex?” It was another question he’d been dying to know. He watched you think for a moment.

“I think just the full thing. I don’t know. I don’t even really know that much about it like I said when you first asked me. I mean, I know people use their hands and mouths but... sorry. I shouldn't be talking about such things.” You put your face in your hands, Remus couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry.”

He needed to do something. Now.

“Don’t be sorry love, it’s alright. You know you can trust me; I wouldn’t dare tell anyone about your sinful thoughts,” he spoke. He turned and dropped his cigarette into one of the many ashtrays in the common room. When he looked back at you, you were already looking at him. “But you know if you ever wanted to indulge in something like that, you can come to me.”

You were beyond flustered, and it showed. “Oh! That’s very um... generous of you, but I don’t think I’ll do any of that I mean... I don’t plan on it.”

He casually shrugged. “We all get a bit curious at some point in our lives.”

For a moment the two of you only stared at each other. He could tell exactly what you were thinking. You were curious. You wanted to try things. He observed you carefully. He could sense the conflict within you. Value versus desire. It was a tough battle, but you didn’t cave. At least, not yet.

“Perhaps, but I made a promise and I need to stick to it,” you said. You looked over your shoulder at your clearly intoxicated friends. “I should get back to Lily and Mary.”

“Right, it was nice talking,” he replied with a smile.

You nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

“Till then love.”

Even as you walked away and joined your friends once again, he could see the way his words affected you. You could deny the feelings all you wanted, but your body craved the unknown. It was only a matter of time till you caved, and Remus would wait.

He was never one to give up easily.

~~~

You came to him faster than he expected. He understood why though, you were on edge about all of it. In the few days it took for you to go to him, he noticed how different you acted. You were more tense, you fiddled with your ring far more than normal. He imagined the inner conflict you faced was stressful, but he was glad about the turnout of it.

After dinner, as he was walking to the library for a study group, you found him. He was a bit surprised at your approach, but nevertheless, he welcomed it with joy.

“Hey Remus, could I talk to you for a second?” You asked.

You were a bit behind him, but he stopped instantly and turned to face you.

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

Your little bit of confidence quickly vanished. You avoided his gaze, focusing suddenly on your shoes. “Um, are you busy? It’s not really that important so if you have something else to do it can wait.”

He fought the urge to smirk. “I was just going to Lily’s little study group, but it can wait. Is something wrong?”

You shook your head and looked up at him, those big innocent eyes staring into his. “No uh... nothing's wrong. It’s just about... well... you know.”

“About what?”

“You know...”

“I don’t think I do love, you’re gonna have to use your words and tell me.”

He felt bad for teasing you, but it was too fun not to. The way your cute little eyes looked around the hallway to make sure no one else was around, the way you fidgeted, it was far too entertaining to stop. A moment passed before you finally spoke in a much softer tone than before.

“It’s about what we talked about at the party last weekend.”

“Oh?” He questioned. “What about it?”

He watched as you slid the ring up and down your finger. “You said um if I ever wanted to you know, indulge, that I could come to you.”

“Yes, I did say that.”

“So... um yeah,” you said. You looked almost uncomfortable. He knew he needed to be nicer.

“Are you asking if that offer is still there?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes! I mean, um, is it?”

He glanced around to make sure nobody else was around before stepping closer to you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your mouth parted ever so slightly. He touched his fingers to your chin, lifting your head gently.

“How about you come find out?”

You didn’t fight it. He was glad.

Not too long after that, Remus found himself in a position he’d desperately wanted for almost a month. You were laid out on his bed, open like a flower, and he was on top of you. Your robe, shirt, and tie were thrown to the floor. He kissed you hard, the reward of your gasps kept him going. He let one of his hands travel up your soft thigh, you were so warm, so inviting. It took all his self-control to keep him from moving too fast.

Before it began, you told him you had only ever snogged. That meant no boy had ever touched you. Not with a hand, not with his tongue, nothing. No one had ever even felt up your breasts. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t pleased with the information. He wanted you to be his, he wanted to be as many of your firsts as he could be.

“Can I touch you?” He eventually whispered on your skin; his lips were by your ear.

“Yes, please,” you replied, your breath ragged.

He continued to press soft kisses to your neck as his hand moved between your thighs. You were wet, very wet. He could feel it through your panties. It made him even harder than he already was. He slid his hand under your panties and began to rub soft circles on your clit, you gasped and lifted your hips in response.

You were perfect.

With every flick of his fingers, you let out little whimpers and moans, and one of your hands gripped his shoulder hard. He caught a few glances of your face between kisses. Your cheeks were red, your eyes squeezed shut. You were beyond beautiful.

After a few minutes, he moved his fingers down to your entrance. He made sure to collect your wetness and ask if it was alright before he began to slowly push one of his fingers inside you.

���Remus,” you mumbled as he started thrusting his finger in and out of you at a slow pace. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?” He asked.

You lightly shook your head. “It feels so good, do not stop.”

“Do you want another one?”

“Yes.”

He complied instantly and added a second finger. You responded just the way he wanted. In only a few more minutes he was fucking you with his fingers, touching that spot inside that made your thighs clench around him. He kissed you hard, he loved how you struggled to kiss him back. When he also began to press his thumb to your clit, you became a mess.

“Fuck Rem, I-” You paused, your nails dug into his shoulder.

“You’re close.” It was a statement; he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers. He knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“I am,” you practically whimpered.

“Let go, love, it’s alright.”

Only seconds later you did. You came hard. Your back arched off the mattress, your mouth hung open wide, and your thighs tightened around his hips. Remus had never felt anything as good as the feeling of your walls pulsating around his fingers as you came undone beneath him. He made sure to keep going till you were fully done. At that point, he pulled his hand out of your panties and up to his lips. He knew you were going to taste good.

You sat up, breathless. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I just- you just- we just... I’m going to hell.”

“Relax, it’ll be fine. People do this all the time and nothing bad happens, I promise it’s just a normal thing,” he said. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, he thought you looked so beautiful. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried about being judged or anything, I’m worried because I don’t feel guilty. I should feel guilty for it but I just... don’t. In fact, I think I...” You looked down at your hand, specifically the ring. “I think I want more.”

Remus couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his lips. “More?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s only right that I return the favor.” He watched your eyes move to his pants; your cheeks turned red. “You’ll have to show me how though.”

“Alright, only if, you’re sure. Don’t feel like you have to because I did something for you,” he replied though he really did want you to touch him. But he could wait if he had to.

“I want to.”

He didn’t question you further. Instead, he guided you through the process of getting him off with your hand. You were a fast learner, though the act itself wasn’t that hard to get the hang of. He found it funny the way you gasped at the size of him. Merlin, you were so innocent. Either way, you made him feel extraordinary. Your hand was much softer than his, and warmer too. You touched him gently, almost teasingly. But that changed fast.

“Can I try something else?” You asked, your hand stopped.

He almost groaned from the lack of motion. “What?”

“Um, can I try using my um...” You pointed to your lips.

“Your mouth?”

“Yeah.”

How could he ever refuse?

It was sloppy, it was rushed, but it was everything he could’ve wanted. As he laid back on the pillows, one of his hands moved through your soft hair. He didn’t dare push you. No. He only stroked your hair gently and whispered praises. He knew you liked it from the way you hummed on his cock each time he told you how good you were doing or how good you made him feel. And when you looked up at him with those eyes, those damn innocent eyes, he could barely contain himself.

He was shocked you even did it to begin with, but he was even more shocked when you let him finish in your mouth. You had him halfway down your throat when he came, and you didn’t pull away for a second. You swallowed it all. Somehow, he became even more attracted to you than he had been before.

“Was it good?” You questioned after you pulled back. You were kneeling beside his legs, a nervous expression on your face.

He smiled. “You were amazing. Are you sure you haven’t done that before?”

“Never even saw one in real life before this,” you replied with a laugh.

“That’s hard to believe,” he said. He sat up and pressed a kiss to your lips before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “Do you want to try one more thing?”

“Depends on what thing.”

“I’ll do what you just did to me but on you,” he answered, loving the way your eyes widened at his words. Despite everything that happened already, you were still so innocent. He adored it.

“Oh yeah okay,” you spoke after a moment.

He kissed you again. “Lay down.”

You did as he said and soon it began.

He started by kissing your lips while his hands pulled your skirt and panties off, leaving you only in a bra. Once those were off, he kissed down your neck, and your chest, only pausing for a second to unclip your bra and take one of your nipples in his mouth. You moaned, he stayed there for a few extra seconds. He then moved his mouth further down your body, relishing the sounds you made each time his lips made contact with your skin.

When he started to kiss up one of your thighs, you twitched. You were so sensitive, so untouched. He was obsessed with it. Every few kisses he sucked your skin to leave dark purple hickeys. He had made sure not to leave any on your skin that would be visible to the world so that no one would see the evidence of your sinful acts. But the skin that would be covered by clothing, that was his to mark.

A few minutes of this went by, and it was all on purpose. Remus could tell how eager you were for him to get on with it, but you were far too shy to tell him to do so. So, he didn’t dare touch you where you so desperately wanted him to. He wanted to hear you ask. But you said nothing, so he decided you needed a little push. He gave you one single lick then returned to your black and blue thighs.

“Remus,” you whispered. “Please.”

He looked up at you and almost felt bad. Your desperate eyes were already looking at him, he could tell how much you needed it. He didn’t wait any longer and gave you what you needed; you certainly earned it.

In all his experience with sex and everything surrounding it, Remus enjoyed pleasing his partner as anyone did. He didn’t mind going down on women, in fact, he sort of enjoyed it. At least until you. With you, he quickly realized having his head between your thighs and his tongue on your clit was not just alright, it was heavenly. He never enjoyed the taste of a girl like he enjoyed yours. You were sweet and the sounds you made as he played with you were their own type of reward.

So, it was no surprise how quickly you came undone on his tongue. He devoured you like he had been starving his whole life. Truthfully, he felt as if he had. You were spectacular. You were perfection. You were his. He was crazy about you.

After you finished, he wiped his mouth on one of your thighs before moving to lie on the bed next to you. He laid on his side facing you, his eyes examining your face. Your eyes were closed, and your cheeks were pink. Your hair was messy, and your lips were ever so slightly lifted into a smile. He swore he never saw anyone as beautiful in his life.

“I feel stupid,” you mumbled.

“Why?”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, your smile then undeniable. “I should’ve taken you up on your offer sooner. Now I understand why everyone’s so mad about this stuff, it’s unbelievable.”

“You don’t regret it then?” He asked.

“How could I? You’re just... Remus I...” You turned to your side to face him fully, one of your hands pressed against his chest. “I think we should do this again if you’d want to of course.”

He grinned and let a hand fall to your waist, he pulled you closer, so your bodies touched. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and you buried your face in his neck. For a moment he felt almost victorious, he had gotten you right where he wanted you to be. It would only be a matter of time before you let him take you fully. But then he realized, it wasn’t about taking your virginity so much anymore. He just wanted you.

“I wouldn’t want anything more,” he eventually said, then he pressed a kiss to your forehead, while the cold feeling of your ring on his chest lingered in the back of his mind.

Soon, it would be his. And so would you.

[soullumii]

this is trouble | joel miller x f!reader

part 2

summary: it's been three weeks since joel last fucked you. tonight he finally has the time.

warnings/tags: 18+ smut mdni, filth. was meant to be plotless but sort of has plot now oops. fem!afab!reader, fwb, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, secret fwb, dirty talk, bratty!reader, grumpy!reader, dom!joel, soft!joel as fucking always (i’m a romantic, what can i say?) little bit of feelings oops, some angst at the end oops, pet names, no use of y/n

word count: 4.6k-ish

a/n: couldn’t find a gif of joel stroking that damn guitar so i made one. lowkey hate this but i needed to upload something so here i hope u enjoy

so when you give that look to me,

i better look back carefully cuz this is trouble, yeah this is trouble

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

It’s been a good few weeks since you last fucked Joel.

Since this whole friends with benefits thing started between you. 

And tonight you’re kind of set on getting his dick back inside you again. Since, y’know, it’s been so long.

You’ve been craving it for a while, but tonight it’s kind of all encompassing. Kind of been the only thing on your mind since Tommy and Maria invited you out tonight. You and Joel, the latter who for the past three weeks has been busy with god knows what. 

You’re kind of pissed at him. Kind of really pissed. And your horny, pent up brain doesn’t help much with keeping your cool. 

At least you’re a few drinks in now, which has cooled your temper down some (though has spiked your libido quite a bit). Maria and Tommy are totally not picking up on your bad mood, though, thank god.

You swirl the last few dregs of wine in your glass, hardly listening to what Maria is practically shouting to you from the other side of the booth, since it’s so fucking loud in here. Your mind is caught on Joel standing at the other end of the Tipsy Bison.

You’ve been eyeing the way his hands curl around his glass of whiskey. The way his flannel stretches over his broad chest. The way his mouth moves as he talks to one of the stable hands named Harry. 

You remember the feeling of that mouth between your thighs.

Fuck, how much longer is he gonna make you wait? Another damn week?

He looks over at your table, eyes catching yours from across the room. You glare at him, trying to convey the frustration and lust and want you feel.  

His lip twitches in a smirk, seemingly having received your message. He pats Harry on the back, and then he’s sauntering back over to you and your little group of friends.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He slides into his seat next to you in the booth. His scent of pine and sandalwood envelops you, a silent torture in and of itself. “Harold doesn’t know when to stop talkin’.”

Tommy laughs boisterously. When he’s had one too many drinks, he’s impossibly loud. “Man, I remember when he kept me at the greenhouse for an hour talkin’ about some bullshit.”

“He's a good guy. Just likes to talk." Maria glances at the radio perched in the corner, a new song playing through the speakers sprinkled throughout the bar. “Oh I love this song! Let’s go dance!”

Joel looks over at you, and you’re still kind of out of it, eyes fixated on the way the sleeves of his flannel are rolled up above his forearms, showing off the veins that snake across his skin, the muscles that shift with each drum of his fingers on the table top.

You’re not in any condition to dance at the moment, and Joel is certainly aware of it.

“I think we’ll stay here,” he says. “Y’all go enjoy yourselves.”

“Suit yourself.” Maria drags Tommy out to the dance floor, leaving you and Joel at this little booth tucked in the corner all by yourselves. 

Alone. 

In the dark. 

And you’re drunk. Joel, probably on his way there.

This is not going to end well. Or maybe it will. For you, at least. Just…not for any poor suckers who might stumble across whatever is about to take place. 

Joel lazes in his seat, casually stretching an arm over the back of the booth, pressing in close to you.

“Howdy,” he says.

“Hi,” you say.

“…You doin’ alright?” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice rather than any real concern, and you know he knows exactly what’s wrong with you.

“I’m fine,” you respond coolly.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“I’m havin’ some trouble believin’ that, since you’re poutin’ like crazy right now, sweetheart.”

“I am not pouting-“

He laughs, full on fucking laughs at you. “Uh yeah, ya are. You’re actin’ like a lil brat. Givin’ me those goddamn eyes from across the room.” 

“Eyes? What eyes?”

His voice dips into something dangerously low, only for you to hear. “The ones practically beggin’ me to eat your pussy. Those ones.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel!” you hiss, turning your head to hide your embarrassment. You drain the rest of your drink and immediately wish you had more. Or some water, at least, to cool down the warmth settling high in your cheeks. 

“That’s what you want, ain’t it?” 

“I don’t fucking know. Are you actually going to do it? Or are you just gonna leave me high and dry again?”

He sighs heavily, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose and why is he the frustrated one here?

You’ve gone three fucking weeks without his dick in you! After he and you made a deal! You should be mad. Not him!

But maybe…maybe that’s just it. Maybe he isn’t fucking you because he just doesn’t want to anymore. And that, scarily enough, makes your chest ache and your eyes get all teary and wow you are so drunk right now. 

“Listen—“ he starts.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep, Joel,” you snap, folding your napkin into little squares to distract yourself from how upset you are. 

He pulls back, and you think he might just get up and leave you to stew angrily again. You could afford to throw yourself another pity party. There’s a bunch more napkins on this table that need folding.

He doesn’t leave, though. Instead, his hand settles warm on your thigh. Your fingers stall around the napkin. 

“I know I’ve been busy, but I intend to keep my promise this time,” he says softly, his hand squeezing your bare flesh, your sundress already having ridden up your thigh. “Don’t think you’ve been the only one cravin’ this.” 

His hand caresses down your inner thigh until his palm is cupping you through your panties, his knuckles brushing over your clothed entrance, and you’re grateful that the booth is angled the way it is, that you’re tucked on the inside, because it makes it a lot harder for anyone to see what he’s doing.

And it makes it a lot easier for you to give into it.

Your legs fall open, providing him more access to where you’re slick and ready for him, your knee pressing into his jean-clad thigh.

“Mm, there we go,” he smirks, stroking you through the fabric, and a tiny whimper escapes you. He leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your ear when he murmurs, “You’re such a drama queen when you’re horny.” 

Motherfucker…

Okay, yes. You can be a bit dramatic. But it’s not only your body that’s horny for him…your heart is kind of horny too. Joel is your best friend and to not see or talk to your best friend for three weeks is practically torture, especially when they’ve been giving you the good dicking down that you deserve. You have a right to be dramatic. 

You send him a scathing glare but it melts the moment his fingers pull your panties to the side and slip beneath the fabric.

You’re wet as hell. You know it. He knows it. But you’re still mad at him, and kind of drunk, so…

“Don’t you say fucking shit.”

“I wasn’t goin’ to.”

It’s a damn lie. He loves commenting on how wet you get for him. While it’s a bit humiliating for you, it only boosts his ego. Like hell he needs an ego boost, though.

His finger lightly swipes up your folds, and he bites down on his lip to try and hide the arrogant grin on his face at the way you thrust your hips forward needily with a breathy pant, but he’s failing. It’s practically impossible for The Joel Miller not to make things about himself.

“How often did you touch yourself thinkin’ about me while I was gone?”

Case in point. 

“Hmm…I don’t think I ever did.”

He circles the pad of his finger around your entrance, and stares you down with dark eyes, looking straight through your core, his voice dipping into something sultry and ragged and downright criminal. “You’re such a damn liar.” 

You feel like you might melt into the faux leather booth. Your thighs are already sticking to it, why not just become part of it at this point?

He slowly sinks his finger inside you, his thumb stroking your outer lips as he does so, and you’re boneless against the cushioned back of the booth.

“I’ll be honest for the both of us. Practically came to the thought of you every night,” he mumbles against your ear and lightly bites your earlobe. “Was thinkin’ ‘bout how much I missed you… ‘bout your body… ‘bout this perfect pussy.” He emphasizes each word with a pulse of his thick finger inside you. 

You shudder, your body lighting up at the thought of him lying in his bed, his hand closed around his cock as he came with a moan of your name on his lips. 

“Why didn’t you just come see me?” You huff, choking on a breath when he crooks his finger inside you, stroking your walls.

“Too much was goin’ on. Maria had me on patrol every morning, then I had guard duty to watch the folks that just left town. I wanted to see you, but I didn’t have enough time. You know I like takin’ my time with you, sweetheart.”

His excuse is valid enough, and he really does like taking his time with you. Content to just plant himself between your legs for hours to coax you through orgasm after orgasm. Or fuck you slow and deep, pulling back just when you’re on the crest to watch you squirm before he builds you up again, over and over until you’re practically screaming at him to let you cum. 

Still…he couldn’t have stopped by once to explain his situation? 

He slides in another finger, and you vaguely register that the song Maria and Tommy sauntered out to the dance floor to is coming to an end and another is starting in its place. They’ll be back soon.

“We can’t do this here,” you hiss, attempting to pull his hand out from under your panties, but it’s half hearted. You don’t want him to stop.

But he pulls back anyway, “If that’s what you want.”

It’s sweet, it’s considerate.. But he’s a damn jerk, because he knows how long you’ve been waiting for this. He knows you want him to keep going. Especially judging by the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark and hooded, the corner of wicked his lips twisting up…

He just wants you to fucking say it.

“Joel…” you grumble.

“What? You change your mind?”

Your fingers curl around his hand, tugging it down again, pressing it up against your throbbing core. That’s gotta be answer enough.

He’s not having it. “C’mon baby. Use your words…”

You scowl at him, muttering, “Don’t stop.”

“Speak up, sweetheart. Can’t hear ya. It’s loud in here.” 

Ughhhh! “Please touch me, Joel. Please don’t stop.”

He smirks. “As you wish.” 

Princess Bride reference. Cute. Makes your heart flop a little in your chest.

Joel eases his fingers back inside you agonizingly slow. He strokes the pads of his fingers inside you. A tingle unfurls in your chest, starts in your toes and spreads up your calves, and a low moan tumbles from your lips.

Thankfully, from anyone passing by, it would look like you two are just deep in a private conversation. Joel, pressed against you, leaning in close, and you, shielded from view by his broad shoulders, listening intently to whatever he’s saying.

They just don’t know that he’s breaking you down, brick by brick. That he’s making you leak all over this fucking booth. That it’s pure filth he’s muttering in your ear and not a juicy secret.

“God, you look so pretty takin’ my fingers, like you were made for 'em. Such a good girl."

“Joel, oh my god…”

Your breaths are coming out hotter, heavier, especially when Joel’s fingers slip out only to glide up through your folds to run delicious patterns over your clit.

“Fuck…” You whimper, the heat in your lap pooling thick and abundant. Your hips chase after his fingers, grinding against his hand.

You’re dangerously close.

“That feel good, baby…?” He eggs you on, his voice a rough rumble of thunder against your ear. 

It’s embarrassing how quickly, how enthusiastically you’re nodding, and Joel slips his fingers back inside you, his thumb coming down to rub circles on your clit as he fucks his digits up and into you.

The music is loud, but beneath it, you can hear the wet sounds of your pussy as Joel takes you apart, stroke by stroke, a steady metronome. 

You grasp onto his forearm desperately, your nails digging into the muscles there with a gasp of his name. “Joel-“

Shit. You’re seriously going to cum in this shitty little moth-eaten booth in the only bar in this entire town. You won’t be able to live it down. But you can’t bring yourself to care–you’re close, on the precipice, and you meet Joel’s dark, dangerous eyes, urging you to cum on his hand with a C’mon baby, you can do it, give it to me and you might, it’s right there it’s—

“…-ere did you learn to do that?”

The unexpected sound of Tommy’s voice has you frantically ripping Joel’s hand out from beneath your dress and scrabbling for a napkin to wipe up the mess on your thighs, on the fucking booth, your orgasm rearing back angrily and setting into a dull buzz in your limbs.

The wicked man beside you scoots himself further under the booth, likely to hide the hard-on he’s sporting. He wipes his hand on his thigh. You think you can hear him grumbling angrily under his breath at the interruption, but you’re not sure, ears instead trained on the sound of your friends getting closer. 

You reach for the drink menu, pretending to read it.

“I took dance classes in my free time before the outbreak,” Maria says as the couple closes back in on the booth you and Joel were totally not defiling. She shimmies at the both of you. “You guys really missed out on some of my great moves while you were moping.”

“We weren’t moping,” Joel defends.

“Sure…” Maria drawls.

If she only knew.

“I’m just not really feeling well,” you say. 

Maria’s playful grin falls into a look of concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired. Need to go lay down, I think. It’s been a long day.”

“Let me walk you home,” Joel says, grabbing his coat he had slung over the booth and strategically positioning it over his pants when he stands.

“Thanks.”

“Feel better!” Tommy says, and you give him a grateful nod as Joel’s hand settles on the small of your back and he steers you out of the stuffy bar and into the cool summer night.

Katydids sing in the dark as you and Joel stroll down the street to your house tucked at the end of the cul-de-sac. Fireflies light the asphalt. An owl hoots overhead. 

“You really feelin' bad?” He asks quietly, once you’ve reached your front porch. 

"No. I just wanted to get out of there."

He hums. "Are you still mad at me?"

“I dunno.” Not really. You’re just pissed you were interrupted. Still, he needs to feel some remorse for his radio silence, so you don’t elaborate.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely as you unlock your door. “Really I am. There’s no excuse. I should’a made the time to at least tell you what was goin’ on. I’m sorry.” 

You open your door and pause in the warm light from the foyer. “You can make it up to me by fucking me.” 

“As good as that sounds, I wanna make sure you’re okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh. Ugh. Usually Joel’s fine with pushing things to the side. Bottling things up. He does it a lot. You sort of wish he would just drop it right now. You don't want to deal with the weird feeling in your chest that's been here all night. But he’s looking at you, waiting.

"I just thought...Maybe you were done with this. With me."

He frowns. “Hell no. I like what we have. I don’t want it to stop anytime soon." He steps forward, wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in.

"Me too..." You murmur, hands drifting up his back, pressing him in close for a hug. "I'm glad you're safe."

He chuckles. “Course I'm safe. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," you say into his shoulder. "I just worry about you.”

"Yeah? You worry 'bout me a lot?"

You pinch his stomach playfully. "You're my best friend. Of course I do."

He pulls away a bit, huffs a tiny laugh. But it's not like his usual laughs. It's forced. Quiet. "Right."

You're a little too drunk to ask about it, and still horny enough to want to get things back on track, so you look into his dark eyes, smiling coyly, lip tucked between your teeth as you roll your hips into him. "Now that I forgive you…think you can fuck me now? Cuz it’s been way too fucking long.”

He groans softly, yes ma'am, and presses his lips against yours.

Okay, yes, he’s your friend but you also kind of kiss sometimes.

You tug him inside the house and shut the door, your mouth still latched to his. The moment the door snicks into the frame, he’s got you pressed against it, his hand rucking up your dress to bunch it around your hips while his tongue dips into your mouth.

You swiftly unbutton his flannel, sliding it down his arms. Your hands find his chest, fingernails scraping over his pecs, through his dark chest hair that thins out the further south it goes, but thickens again into a happy trail that disappears below his waistband.

Fuck, he’s so…

His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, a repeat of earlier, and you break the kiss to drop your head against the door with a thump when his fingers find your clit again.

“Jesus, you’re so wet.”

…And there he goes.

“Three fucking weeks, Joel,” you bite, though the end of his name melts into a moan when his fingers sink inside you again. 

“Didn’t know you were keepin’ count.” 

“Fuck—“ He quirks a finger. “S-shut up.”

He huffs out an amused chuckle into your cheek, trailing kisses from your jaw down your throat. His teeth sink in, and his mouth suctions over your skin, delivering a beautiful little mark on your flesh that he kisses gently after. It drives you fucking crazy.

“I’ll shut up if you let me taste you,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice vibrating pleasantly through you.

Your pussy pulses around his fingers, your clit honest to god throbbing against his palm, and now he knows you really want him to eat you out, especially when you follow up with an enthusiastic nod.

Joel slips his hand out from beneath your panties to lift you up around his hips and carry you to your bedroom. He plops you on the edge of your mattress and immediately sinks to his knees on the floor, eye level with your cunt.

“God, been thinkin’ about you for weeks. Missed this pussy so goddamn much,” he says, leaning in to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips trail down your leg as he pulls your panties off and stuffs them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Let’s see how good I did,” he says, pulling your legs apart to get a good look at what a mess he’s made of you. He hums appreciatively at the sight of your glistening folds, licking his lips. That enough has you clenching around nothing, fingers tightening in the bed covers. 

“You seein’ what I do to you? No one else can make you this wet, ain’t that right?”

“You’re such an arrogant ass,” you growl.

He just smirks as he lowers himself again between your legs. He puffs a breath of cool air along your slit before listing over to kiss your other inner thigh, grinning when you groan in frustration.

“Joel, please.”

“So impatient.”

“I’ve waited thr—“

“Three weeks, yeah I know.”

He presses forward to lick a hot stripe up your folds with the flat of his tongue, and your hand flies to his hair, anchoring him closer to your pussy.

“S-shit,” you whimper. 

He lightly drags a finger along your slit, the slight pressure fucking agonizing. 

“Joel.” You sort of want to scream at him. He’s been teasing you all fucking night. 

“Alright,” he laughs and allows you to guide his head back down until the bridge of his scarred nose is pressed into your folds and his tongue is prodding at your entrance. 

He takes his sweet time unraveling you, alternating between licking into you and sucking your sensitive clit into his mouth. You can’t say much, reduced to wordless cries with each movement of his mouth. 

It’s messy, sloppy, but you like it. You like seeing the wetness on his face when he pulls back for air. You like the way his hair is pulled in all different directions, all because of your greedy hands. You like the way he has to push one of his hands down to palm himself in his jeans, just to relieve some of that pressure.

He clearly loves eating you out. And you very much love that he loves it.

But you’re getting kind of desperate. Kind of really want to cum. So…

Your hips begin to grind against his face as he sucks on your clit, and he seems to receive the message because he slides two thick fingers into you and starts to eat you out in earnest, delighting with a low moan when your legs clench around his head, the scruffy hairs of his beard tickling your inner thighs. 

“Holy shit, Joel.”

“Mm—“ He moans.

Your foot keeps slipping off the bed, so Joel’s large, warm hand curls around your calves to situate your legs over his shoulders. This new position grants you more leverage to chase after your orgasm with steady rolls of your hips into his hungry mouth.

He sucks your clit as he thrusts his fingers into you at a brutal pace, hitting your g-spot that has you jerking against him with each stroke. His hand plants on your abdomen to hold you down, stilling your desperate movements.

You’re getting close, the pressure building and magnifying as Joel moans against your pussy, the vibrations driving you insane.

“Fuck, Joel—hah-“

“Mm.”

“Jesus, Joel—fuck—oh my—hnhh—”

“Mhm.” He encourages.

It shatters in you, white hot and falling over you, a waterfall of warmth. Your body straightens stiff as a board, back arching off the bed, quivering as you cum against Joel’s mouth, your slick running down his chin and catching in his beard.

You try to push him away, your orgasm overwhelming on its own, but Joel hates it when you do that, wants to make sure you really feel it, so he presses himself back in to lick and guide you through it. Drawing it out.

It has your head falling back, eyes rolling into your skull, mouth dropping open on a satisfied moan. 

He only gives you a short amount of time to recover while he pulls his jeans and briefs off. You tug your sundress over your head. And then he’s rising up to meet you again, scooting you back until your head almost brushes the headboard. He sinks his thick cock into you as he presses his lips against yours, muffling your surprised and needy moan.

And then he reaches up, his large hand gripping the headboard as your legs wrap around his waist, and then he’s fucking you in earnest, each snap of his hips sheathing his cock fully inside you in a desperate rhythm.

And all you can do is lay there and take it and fall apart.

“S-shit, baby,” he grunts. “That’s it.”

“Oh God…” You whine. 

Your hands scrabble for purchase on his back, your blunt nails scratching up his sun-freckled skin, feeling the muscles bunch and shift as he holds the thumping headboard steady, his knuckles turning white as he grips it. His other hand finds its spot next to your head, holding himself up as he obliterates your pussy. 

He prepared you well for him, but you’re still stretched so full, the breaths knocked from your lungs with each thrust of his cock into you. His pelvic bone brushes your clit with the roll of his hips, the uneven pressure dragging you closer and closer to that metaphoric cliff.

And his moans certainly help, too. He’s not quiet, between strings of praises are ragged moans and tiny whimpers. It only turns you on more.

“Fuck, Joel, can’t leave me without this again.”

“Trust me baby,” he groans. “Another damn week and I wouldn’t’ve survived.”

His hand releases the headboard, slides down to tangle in your hair. He tugs your head back, and molds your lips to his. Teeth nipping your bottom lip before his tongue dives into your mouth. You moan appreciatively.

You can hardly breathe, but god it’s perfect. This moment is so fucking perfect. You want to take a picture of it. Frame it on your damn wall. 

You’re sure it looks like he’s fucking eating you right now, but you like it. You want him to consume you. Want him to be yours… Want to be his.

Stop. He’s your best friend.

He pulls back to lick a stripe from the corner of your lips along your jaw before sucking marks and kisses down your throat, his hips still thrusting into you steadily. His hand squeezes your breast, rolls your nipple between his index and thumb.

“Oh…oh—“ God… 

“You close baby girl?”

“Fuck, ye-yes… Yes need you…”

“N-need me to help you cum?”

He’s losing it. You’re losing it. Fuck please!

“Please, Joel—“

He pulls back enough to watch you, lips pink and puffy and kissed the fuck out. His eyes drift to where he’s thrusting inside you, dick slick with your arousal, sheathing itself inside you with wet, fucking nasty sounds.

“God, you're perfect. So fuckin' perfect...” 

His hand drifts down and you tremble, brows screwing together as his thumb fiddles with your clit.

White hot arousal pools in your core, unrelenting. Unstoppable. You feel like a damn metamorphic rock. Becoming something new under all this heat and pressure. 

It crests, crashing, filling your insides with hot magma as your mouth drops open on a silent scream, eyes squeezing shut as your pussy clamps down on Joel’s cock repeatedly.

He follows right behind you, painting your insides with thick, hot cum, leaking out of your entrance over his cock and down your ass cheeks.

You hiss when he pulls out, feeling empty. He gathers the cum that leaked out with his thumb and pushes it back into your quivering hole. 

“So goddamn pretty…” he murmurs. “Look so pretty with my cum inside you…”

Friends. You’re friends. 

So why the hell does this feel like so much more? Why is it that you’re so turned on by him practically claiming you?

You’re still trying to catch your breath when he lays down beside you, brushing your hair out of your sweaty face. “Feel better now? Not so mad anymore?”

“Mhm,” you hum happily.

He leans in, presses his lips against yours softer, slower…meaningfully. You kiss him back, tugging him close. His arm snakes around your waist, tugging you into him. You're pretty sure normal friends with benefits don't do this. But you and Joel have never been normal.

In those long three weeks you had started to worry maybe he'd never come back. It fucking scared you. Now, you're unsure you ever want to let go.

When he pulls back his eyebrows are furrowed, lips drawn in a frown. He looks concerned. "What's wrong?"

"What?"

"You're cryin'..." He wipes your teary eyes with his thumb.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You scramble to wipe your eyes, sniff. Smile at him. Reassure. Act normal. "Oh, no-I'm fine. Just... think I'm still drunk."

"Somethin' going on? You looked like you were gonna cry back at the Bison, too. Did I do somethin'?"

You shake your head, squeeze his arm. "No, of course not. I'm just being weird. Tired, I think.”

"You sure?"

"Mhm.”

"You can tell me anythin’, y'know?"

What? Like I think I'm in love with you? Fat chance.

"I know. Everything's fine."

You’re such a damn liar.

He can see right through you, but he lets it go. "Okay. If you're sure." He leans in to press a kiss to your jaw. Friend. Friend friend friend. "I'd love to stay but I gotta go. Ellie's probably wonderin' where I'm at."

Joel sits up, swings his legs over the edge and stands. Grabs his jeans, pulls them up. His belt buckle jangles as he slides it through the loops.

“I really did miss you, by the way,” he says, looking down at you. “You. Not just the sex.”

His words warm your cool, exposed body. Fuel the burning the realization, I love you. “I missed you, too.”

He turns to leave, and you see the fabric poking out of his back pocket.

"You still have my panties."

He smirks. "Guess you'll hav'ta come over to get them back."

You smile back, blushing. “Looking forward to it.”

He leans down to kiss your head, "Night, angel."

"Night," you say faintly.

Only when your front door slams shut do you allow yourself to give into the fantasies. To imagine what it’d be like to call him yours. To not keep things a secret. To tell people you're together. To be his.

Damnit, you’re in trouble.

[seredelgi]

Sweet Punishment

fandom: Attack On Titan/ Shingeki No Kyojin

pairing: Dom!Levi Ackerman x Sub!Fem!Reader, Levi Ackerman x You

summary: Reader's relationship with Levi is everything she could've asked for, he's very sweet and never gets mad at her. There's only one little rule she needs to follow, and when she fails to, then he'll have to punish her.

rating: Mature, 18+

warnings: dom!levi, sub!reader, smut, like a lot, fingering, sex, vaginal sex, dubious consent (she enjoys it tho, believe me), spanking, blood (just a little cut on the lip, but still), unprotected sex (don't try it at home lol), penetration, manhandling (just a tiny bit, she's totally fine) vulgar language?, oh yeah, choking (no passing out), orgasm denial, slight degradation?, idk, this man has me feral, NO SPOILERS

word count: 4.6k

a/n: alright alright, last episode is out, and I'm just in love with Levi so I went down a rabbit hole of smut before deciding to write something down. It's just a scrap, I haven't put much thought in it so keep it in mind. Also, English is not my mother tongue, so go easy on me. Thoughts are in italic

tags: @imlevisoneandonlywife

Part 2

Your boyfriend is just so very good to you that it often makes you question how in the world have you gotten so lucky.

He’s known to be a man of few words, a true soldier, the best in what he does. You’ve never seen him in action, of course, but you’ve heard the stories and the way they’re being told. His subordinates tell them with a glimpse of ecstatic excitement in their eyes, his colleagues with a blatant silent respect. It’s honestly mesmerizing to see the effect he has on people.

But it is nothing compared to the effect he has on you.

You don’t need to see him slaying Titans to know he’s the best. He carries it wherever he goes, whatever he does, he has an aura to him that just draws you in.

And even though he’s perceived by everyone to be just a grumpy man, you get to see his sweetest side. Once Levi gets someone close to his heart, he becomes so severely attached to them that it’s almost suffocating. He showers you with his love and attention, compliments, gifts, simple little signs of his undying devotion towards you. And even though infamously ruthless on the battlefield, you’ve never seen him upset in your regards. Not that you’ve ever given him any reason to be, it’s pretty simple to please him. He’s not even the jealous type, maybe ‘cause he’s way too confident for his own good.

There’s only one little thing that he won’t compromise on.

Since the first time you two have had sex, he’s firmly stated that he wanted to be the only one to pleasure you, that not even you were permitted to relieve the tension on your own. It took you aback a little, but since he’d just managed to make you see stars you agreed.

Honestly, that decision has never truly bothered you that much, he was definitely worth the wait.

But now, as you're home alone waiting for him to get back home, you can’t stop thinking about him, about how good it feels to have him slide inside of you, and pump in and out with that effortlessly relentless pace he usually reserves you so kindly.

You try to focus on each chore you’re on at the moment, but anytime you try your mind seems to wander on its own, and you find yourself aching for him, catching glimpses of the clock hanging in the kitchen, counting down the hours that separate you from seeing him again.

You must be ovulating, ‘cause you feel so damn empty just thinking about him, needing to be filled so desperately it’s almost funny.

“ Just hormones” you huff quietly as you finish washing the dishes “ breathe, y/n”

You’ve never actually considered breaking Levi’s rules, you wouldn’t like lying to him about it. But right now his request just seems so unreasonable.

You eye the door of your bedroom from afar.

He doesn’t have to know.

It’s just one little slip, one little sin to remove a bit of the tension and be able to ease your mind.

For some reason your heart’s racing as you tiptoe silently towards the bedroom, sitting on your bed and sighing as you remember what happened in it the other night. Thinking about it makes you feel incredibly hot between your legs. You can feel your juices stain the white cotton of your panties.

You bite your bottom lip, considering if maybe you should just get up and get back to your chores, maybe put something up in the oven for dinner.

But it’s impossible when all it takes is for you to close your eyes and you can see him, holding you in his arms, leaving humid kisses down your neck, whispering huskily in your ear all the things he wants to do to you.

“ Fuck it” you click your tongue in surrender and place yourself laying back on the center of the mattress.

It’s his fault honestly, for being so ridiculously hot and impossible to wait for. And anyway, he’ll never know. You’ll make it quick. It’s still an hour before he comes back. Plenty of time for you to get off even more than once.

So you lean back and relax.

You close your eyes and he’s there again, looking down at you with hungry eyes, touching you all over your naked body. And as you imagine his touch upon you it’s easy, almost like following his orders, scanning your hands upon the warm skin of your breasts, your fluttering stomach, all the way down between your thighs.

You get rid of your panties, breaths quickening as you can feel his tongue sucking on your hardened nipples. Your whole body is aching so bad just thinking about it, yearning for his hands on you so bad it’s almost bruising.

As you part your legs and gently slip your middle finger between your folds a sudden cry of arousal breaks free from your throat. You just wish it were him touching you, his fingers sliding silently inside of you as you're doing now, gathering your juices before slipping out of your entrance again to bring them toward your clit.

You’re so incredibly wet. He’d surely comment on it if he were here, mocking you for how desperate you look for him. It would be embarrassing if it didn’t turn you on even more. And now that your fingertips are finally massaging your bundle of nerves, that agonizing tension you’ve been feeling all day just gathers in your lower abdomen, ready to let loose.

You’ve been horny all day, so it figures that you’re already so close.

It’s shameful, but it’s true.

Your free hand grips your sheets so hard you think you’ll have to iron them again if you don’t want Levi to notice. But that’s not your concern now. You’re lost in your lust, eyes shut picturing your man sliding inside of you with his cock, whispering all kinds of dirty prayers into your ear. It’s almost as if he’s there.

“ What do you think you’re doing?”

You take a few instants to realize that it’s really him asking you that, flesh and blood in your room, standing by the door and looking at you with the kind of gaze that you’re sure would send any reasonable man a shiver running down their spine.

“ Fuck- Levi” you pant, your hand coming off of you in a spurt, hoping in vain that he won’t comment on it, that he’ll let it slide “ I didn’t hear you come in”

His silver-grey eyes don’t come off of you as you sit at attention, closing your legs and trying to gain some composure. Your mind spins so fast it takes your breath away, your heart stammering loudly in your chest as he clenches his jaw.

He’s standing there, mere meters away from you, his uniform still on, a severe expression darkening his beautiful features.

That’s impossible not to find hot.

“ Yeah, that much was clear” he hums, and by the tone of his voice it’s difficult to determine how actually mad he is, being it the first time you ever break that rule “ So this is what you do when you’re home alone, huh?”

“No it’s not like that, I was just-” you don’t know why you’re so fast at trying to justify yourself when you know full well you haven’t done anything wrong.

You should tell it to him straight. That he doesn’t own you. He might be the best fighter in the known world, a Captain of the Scouts Corp, but that doesn’t give him the right to exert control over your God damn body.

But the words die in your throat. It’s suddenly really hot in there, and you’re still very fucking horny. You’re ashamed to admit that you find yourself quite attracted to this side of him, one you’ve never had the pleasure to fully unravel.

“ Just what? Trying to have fun without me?” he’s finally moving, walking towards the chair in front of your bed, getting rid of his jacket and placing it tiredly upon it.

“ Just warming up for when you came home, honey” you sound so out of breath, and you’re trembling.

You don’t actually think he would do you any harm, and yet his eyes suggest otherwise, his demeanor exudes danger from every pore. If that’s just a hint of the coldness he carries himself into battle with, then it’s no wonder fucking Titans fall at his feet.

“ You know that’s not how it works” his voice is low, steady “ But maybe you need a little reminding”

A hint of mischief lightens up the tension, and he starts walking towards you, slow and lethal like the man you know he is.

“ I didn’t even finish, I swe-”

But you’re cut off by his sudden movement, a quick dash to get a hold of your face, squishing your cheeks together with a hand, he gives you the kind of look that shuts you the hell up and gets that familiar tickle go wild between your legs. You subtly squeeze your thighs together to give your pussy some kind of attention, disobeying right in front of him kind of getting you off now.

“ I’m the only one that can give you pleasure” he almost growls at you, and his hold is so strong it’s bruising you now “ Understood?”

“ Yes, Sir” it’s all you’re able to reply, mind too foggy to gather anything else.

But it looks like he likes it, ‘cause he lets you go, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Levi Ackerman doesn’t smile easily. So you guess you’ll call him that in the bedroom more often.

He sits on the edge of the bed, and you’re almost disappointed, thinking he’s already done with you.

“ Over my lap” he instructs instead “ Now”

You’re kind of confused about what exactly he’s got in mind. But it doesn’t look like a great idea to ask out loud, so you find yourself complying, crawling towards him, legs a bit shaky from the missed orgasm you almost managed to give yourself.

You get within reach of him, not sure how he wants you to position yourself.

“ How do I-”

But you’re cut off again by his hand reaching for your wrist, tugging you forward, and having you stumble upon him, ending up stomach flat against his thighs. You resist the urge to whine in protest, sensing he’s not keen on you speaking up right about now.

You feel the light fabric of your sundress being roughly lifted up your ass, revealing to him your nakedness.

He sits in appreciation of the view in front of him for a few instants, and you’re feeling every nerve-ending on your body standing at attention for what he’s gonna do next.

The first slap makes your heart skip a beat, you hold your breath and close your eyes shut, and somehow you still manage to hold in your cry of pain. It’s sudden and disconcerting, and it kind of feels wrong to stay silent while he takes such liberties with your body, and yet it makes you squirm in your place to feel more.

The stinging that comes from the second one is even better, ‘cause you’ve expected it, and the high that comes next is kind of inebriating to your drunken senses.

Oh God, you’re so down bad for this man you’ll let him treat you like a disobedient child.

With the third one you can’t help yourself, you cry out in pain as the burning sensation gets your insides in a twirl, while the aching between your legs won’t stop growing desperate by the second.

“ I told you couldn’t do it” his voice is hoarse now, the sound of lust tainting it so clearly it only makes you hornier “ Don’t I give you enough pleasure? Enough attention?” he slaps you hard, and yet it’s not hard enough for you to feel the vibrations of your thighs giving you some kind of relief from the tension you’re holding up between your legs “Are you really that needy?”

You muffle a protest, almost crying from how much you feel desperate for him to touch you, but you don’t dare ask.

Luckily it’s like he’s in your mind, ‘cause you feel his hand suddenly stopping from imparting you that sweet punishment, only to make its way between your reddened thighs, finding your liquids covering their insides, and it’s so good to hear a falter of genuine stupor in his voice as he appraises how wet you are from what he’s doing to you “ Fuck, you really are, aren’t you?” he murmurs, and you can almost feel him licking his lips as he comes to touch your hole now, finding it drenched with your juices “ You’re a fucking mess”

You really are. Your liquids are audibly enveloping his fingers as he sinks them deep into you without much effort, your walls sucking him in. You let go of a sigh of pure ecstasy as you finally feel him fill you up as you’ve longed for all day long. It’s not enough, you want his cock balls deep into you, but you don’t think you’re in the position to make any requests right now.

His desire is undeniable at this point, you can feel it poking at your stomach as he starts pumping his fingers into you, so slowly you’re sure he wants to kill you with this fake kindness. Having his erection pressing into you like that is torture too. He must know that’s what you want. Heck, he seems horny enough to give it to you now, and yet he refrains. What is he up to?

“ You’re so fucking spoiled” he comments as his fingers start pumping at a much higher pace, getting to that spot inside of you that he knows how much you like “ Can’t even wait an hour for me to get home, huh?”

You’re so undeniably turned on, and yet some kind of rebellious part of you hates to let him know so blatantly, and has you trying to refrain from making too much noise. But it’s almost impossible. It would be so much easier to say you’re sorry and have him shift back into his normal tender self, but you’re high on this, and it feels like a waste to have it stop right now.

“ What’s this?” he asks, his tone slightly irritated by your sudden attitude, and you have to put all your efforts into stopping yourself from whimpering when his hand slips out of you so suddenly it makes your whole body shiver “ The silent treatment?”

He reaches for your lips with his other hand, the one that’s not covered in your liquids, and he parts them slowly. You’re too slow to realize what he wants to do, and before you know it you’ve got his thumb inside your mouth and the rest of his fingers holding your neck, lifting you from where you lay on top of him, making you look into his dark grey eyes.

“ Apologize now, and I’ll be gentle”

You don’t want gentle. Not anymore. And neither does he. You can see it in his eyes, he’s hungry for more, he just keeps it together better than you ever could.

“ You fon’t- owm’e” your muffled words were meant to sound challenging, but your eyes, you’re sure, they’re begging for him to fuck you, and this facade of yours is practically ridiculous.

You know ‘cause his smirk is chilling, amused by your pathetic attempts at making this interesting, when really, all he wants is for you to beg him to give it to you.

“ We’ll see about that”

He shoves you back down on the mattress, slipping his thumb out of your warm mouth before getting up with his knees pressing down on the bed and going for his belt, and you can’t help your eyes from lingering on his hurried movements as he lowers his pants and boxers just enough that you can see his cock finally popping out, and it’s so hard it’s almost threatening.

You knew he was just as impatient as you were, finding you getting off on your bed with his name probably escaping your lips must’ve been a treat he wasn’t expecting to stumble upon. But seeing it made you even more eager to feel it inside.

He crawls on top of you so that he’s all you can see, but he’s all you can ever see when you’re this horny.

You lunge up towards his lips. He still hasn’t kissed you, and by now it feels natural to want to, but he dodges you, making you almost pout in response.

“ There are no kisses for bad girls”

That’s so unfair you almost give in on the spot, the apology nearly rolling off your tongue so that you can be able to taste his inside of you.

Instead, you start kissing his neck, but he takes you harshly by the throat and presses you hard into the mattress.

Fuck him, he’s playing dirty.

He presses a knee down between yours and has you part your legs so easily it’s freaking frightening. If it weren’t for the fact that he lowered himself upon the skin of your neck, pressing his cock on the center of your cunt you would be complaining to yourself about how much control he has over you. But you like it too much to really care.

He starts kissing your neck slowly, so slowly it feels like torture, and his hips start rutting against your dripping core at the same dangerous pace. He can kill you with all of this, gentle when you want hard fucking and bites and marks to last for days. And yet it’s enough pressure, enough contact to leave you on the edge, enough to feel like crying with frustration. He’s already brought you so close with his hand before, and you almost came on your own before that, you’re practically holding on for dear life at this point.

“ Levi-” you can’t help but sob in his ear, feeling his breath grazing upon your warm skin as he answers you, his voice a delicate purr:

“ Yes?”

“ Please- fuck” you beg, dignity be damned. You’re a whore for this man, who are you even kidding?

“ Please what?” his tip is slowly pushing inside of you, only to slip out again as he teases you, and you think he’s never been so damn cruel to you in bed. It’s intoxicating how much you’re liking it.

“ Please, please, Levi, fuck me” your voice is so distorted by need that it’s practically unrecognizable, and the kind of chuckle that he ghosts upon your skin when he finally decides to stop playing with you would have your blood run cold, wouldn’t it be for the hotness of being surrounded by him with so much desire.

“ As you wish” he only says, before finally sliding his whole length inside of you, one deep thrust and you’re fucking screaming into the void of the room, clinging to his back and begging to the Gods above for it to never stop.

He’s finally fucking you as you wanted, deep thrusts crashing against your aching clit, your juices dripping down on the freshly clean sheets of your bed to create a pool of delicious wetness beneath you two.

He raises, towering over you, and he’s just so damn beautiful that he looks unreal.

“ Apologize” he orders again, this time you can hear the slightest little falter in his voice as he pumps in and out of you without mercy, still holding you down against the mattress by the neck.

Heck no.

You can’t risk this stopping now that you’re finally filled with him, now that you’re so close to getting what you’ve wanted all day.

You find the strength to shake your head no.

You catch a glimpse of indignation glinting in his eyes, something so fleeting it’s gone in an instant, but it’s impossible to feel scared when every single movement of his is sending shivers down your spine, and each thrust against your clit brings you one step closer to fucking paradise.

You’re already so close, and you’re so drunk on pleasure that you’re way past feeling shameful for it. You’re a babbling mess and you just love it.

“ Don’t you dare come” he threatens. His voice rasp, his breaths quicker and you feel something twist inside of you. He can’t do this to you. He can’t play with you like this. It’s simply evil.

“ Please” you whine, your voice a whisper, your eyes teary, his hold on your neck starting to limit the amount of air being able to reach your lungs. You feel like passing out like this would be heaven on earth. But you want to cum first.

He can’t rob you of it, not after all that you’ve let him do to you today. So you’ll come and hope for dear life to be able to refrain yourself from making it obvious.

You can feel your walls clenching around his cock, any thrust of his could be the last one, before-

Fuck. He can’t be serious.

He slipped out while you were almost there.

He’s nuzzling his nose against your neck, leaving little bites on your impatient skin as you cry, only able to complain.

“ I know you too well by now, love” he murmurs silently on your skin, his hand on your throat finally coming off, making you able to breathe in properly “ I can feel when you’re close, you can’t fool me”

He raises his silver-grey eyes upon you, and they’re filled with dark intents, so dangerous that your heart skips a beat.

“ Now apologize” his voice is firm, and his tone is so low it almost feels like a threat. This time, you know, if you don’t he’ll walk away on you. And you can’t have it.

“ I’m sorry” you finally give in, tears running down your cheeks, a pathetic mess, desperate to feel your man filling you up with his cum “ I’m sorry, Levi, please”

He sighs as if annoyed by all of this.

“ Will you ever disobey me again?”

“ Never, fuck- I swear” you’re too fast to shake your head no to that, giving him up any control he wanted over you and your body “ I will never touch myself again, I promise, Captain”

Much like the ‘Sir’ you had uttered before, this too sends a proud little sparkle flying in his irises, and at that he falls apart too, kissing your neck violently and sinking inside of you again, revealing himself just as lost in his desire as you are.

“ You’re so hot when you beg me” he chants upon your skin and you shiver as he bites your neck and sucks onto your tender skin, making you moan his name so loud you’re glad you don’t have any neighbors “ I love it, fuck- I love you”

It’s not often that Levi throws those words at you, and any time he does it feels like you’re golden in his hands, like you’re the last meal for a starved man.

His pace has become relentless, and it’s breaking you apart.

You meet his eyes, and this time around there’s no more coldness in them, no more anger or attitude of any kind, his features have softened underneath the burden of pleasure, and his eyes are so full of love it makes you hold your breath and cross your legs around his waist, keeping him so close you can feel his heart beating underneath his chest.

At times like this you can’t believe he’s yours, can’t believe you get to be fucked by the best soldier humanity has ever seen. You’re blessed. So what if you can’t touch yourself? All of this is just so worth it.

“ Can I kiss you now?” you ask, breathless.

He looks down on you with a hint of stupor, as if he were surprised that right now, a step away from your orgasm, you still look for his lips. And then he crashes down upon you, kissing you as if he hadn’t in years, as if there is no one else in the world.

You’re washed over by a sense of ecstasy, it runs throughout your whole body as you chase your relief, and when you finally break apart, you start shuddering against him, crying his name in his mouth, thanking him for everything he’s making you feel.

“ That’s it” you hear him in the background of your pleasure, praising you upon your feverish skin “ my good girl”

And then he kisses you again, this time violent, ravenous.

As you slowly come down from your high a sudden pain makes you realize he’s bit your lip, and by the drops of red staining his mouth when he parts from you you think he’s cut it, his hand clasping around your neck again, his brows furrowed, his eyes upon you.

“ You’re mine, yeah?”

He asks it with a verge of doubt, a vulnerability he rarely grants himself, usually when it concerns you.

It makes your heart ache and you kiss him again, the ferrous taste of your own blood corrupting the delicious one of his lips. You find it astounding that he even feels the need to ask you this, especially after all that has just occurred, the way you’ve let him dispose of you. Whose else would you ever be?

“ Only yours, Levi Ackerman, always”

“ Fuck- I’m so close” he pants.

“ Cum inside of me” you beg him quietly, and he sets you free of the hold on your neck and crashes down on you, slipping his arms under your shoulders and keeping you so close to him he could probably break you.

“ You want it in your pretty pussy, huh?” he asks, his voice croaking with pleasure, it almost breaks from how close he is.

“ Yes, Sir”

That seems to do it, ‘cause he lets out the kind of groan you’ve learned to recognize as he holds you to him, his movements erratic, his breaths hot and heavy against your neck, through your hair. He slams a hand on the headboard to keep himself steady, and you see his face twist deliciously as he’s overcome with pleasure.

“ Fuck” he swears as you feel his hot seed springing into you, filling you up as you’ve longed for, and it’s just perfect. You love feeling him emptying inside of you, it makes you feel fulfilled. It drives you.

He towers above you for a few more instants, his heavy breaths crashing down on you, lips still red from your blood. Then he comes collapsing beside you, still dressed in his uniform, even though some of his buttons have accidentally been undone in the heat of the moment.

You lay silently for a while, the high of passion slowly taming as you both wrap your heads around whatever has just happened. You’re kind of shocked. You honestly did not think you would be into any of what’s just occurred, but he’s just too hot to be denied.

“ Maybe I should try to masturbate more often” you casually throw the words in the silence of the room, hoping to elicit a laugh from him.

Long shot.

“ Don’t you dare” he threatens instead.

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR EIGHT

in which graves are dug up, walls are built, and nobody knows what happened in the bathroom that night.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 4.6k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

8:00 ────ㅇ────────────── 24:00

DINGUS: hey, do you guys remember the first night they met? 

BIRDIE: you mean when we took her to the bar to meet everyone and they very clearly fell in love at first sight? no, doesn’t ring a bell. 

DINGUS: stop being such a fucking smart ass

NANCE: @DINGUS What about it? 

DINGUS: she just called me asking me about it. said eddie was nice until you guys went to the bathroom. apparently he acted differently when you guys came back, but i can’t remember anything about what was said?? did eddie actually start acting differently??? 

BIRDIE: i remember that! thought it was weird or eddie just started overthinking? i dunno. i was in the bathroom obviously.

ARGYLE  😎: oh i remember that night very clearly brochacho

ARGYLE  😎: kind of surprised you don’t, dude

JOHNNY: Oh God yeah @DINGUS you’re living up to your namesake dude

NANCE: You really don’t remember, do you? 

DINGUS: @NANCE and how the fuck do YOU remember? you weren’t even there, nance. you were in the bathroom as robs put it.

NANCE: Best friend privileges. You really might want to remember, Dingus. 

BIRDIE: @NANCE message me real quick? 

DINGUS: hey! no fucking whispering! that’s not fucking helpful! @JOHNNY @ARGYLE  😎 what did i say? 

NANCE: @BIRDIE I will. Let me call Eddie first.

—

HOUR EIGHT - 11:00 PM

You weren’t trying to eavesdrop - you were trying to sleep. If anyone asked you, you could have honestly defended yourself. The couch was uncomfortable, your back aching as you repeatedly twisted back and forth to just try and find a minute of rest. Your mind was reeling, still replaying all of your moments with Eddie leading up to this night. Suddenly, you were overthinking it all. You couldn’t differentiate between things that really happened, or things that you’d simply blown out of proportion due to your innate need to spin the narrative of Eddie being the villain. 

“Yeah, I… I think she’s sleeping.” 

You hadn’t even heard Eddie opening his door finally, your back facing the hallway as you stayed curled up tightly. His footsteps are heavy as he gets closer to you.

“She’s… uh, she’s on the couch.”

Immediately, you can hear a shrill voice shouting over the line. It’s hard to miss. You can imagine the way he’s wincing, holding the phone out from his ear in an attempt to not let her scolding damage his ear drums. 

“I didn’t think she went to bed!” he hisses, trying to stay quiet, under the impression you’re still asleep, “I- Jesus H. Christ, Nance! Calm down, calm do-” he’s cut off as the anger over the line still leaks into the calm air of the room, “No. No, I wasn’t- I was going to let- Nance. Please, can I get a fucking word in?” 

You hold your breath during his pause, and the clear scolding, Nancy’s scolding, finally ceases. 

“I wasn’t going to let her sleep on the couch,” he says slowly. You almost turn over, almost face him and show him you’re very much awake and not sleeping. “I didn’t think she’d go to bed while I was in there. I thought… I thought- Jesus, I thought at worst, she’d snoop through my shit. Maybe go for a walk or something. I didn’t- I just… Fuck, I needed space. It’s just been a long night.”

Nancy’s voice is no longer audible, but it’s clear he’s listening to what she has to say. You’re nearly overcome with guilt; you’ve done plenty of things wrong, but to eavesdrop on a private conversation? It might be your worst crime against Eddie yet. 

Suddenly, he says, “It’s just been a lot.” 

Something in his tone has changed. It’s gone soft, whispering from his lips in sudden muted blue. It’s a type of sadness you can’t quite place – it’s the kind of mourning you’d seen in his eyes in the photo. 

Nancy must say something, because he hums in response. It’s obviously not good enough of an answer for Nancy over the phone, because her voice grows back to audible levels, less shrill, more stern. 

Eddie answers with words this time. “I… I think I do.” 

He thinks he does what? 

“I do. I really fuckin’ do.”

He’s more sure in his answer the second time around to the unknown question. The guilt grows. Inflating, turbulating, ready to crack your ribs. The vines are no longer there to hold you together.

You’re put out of your misery when Eddie murmurs out a bye, Nance and you can hear his phone snap shut. If it were just a mere few hours ago, one hour ago, you would have made a comment about it - you would have joked again about what year it was, how maybe the two of you should get to sleep so first thing in the morning, you could drag him down to the Apple store to get a normal phone like the rest of you. But you’re not a time traveler, and Eddie is still an ocean away from you. 

And you’re not a strong swimmer. The water’s were rocky, were vicious, and if you dared to try and backstroke to his side of the water, you’d surely drown. He had to come to you. 

You’re praying he comes to you. Eyes tightly screwed shut, still resembling a ball on his old couch. 

Please reach out for me, your mind screams, please wake me up. Please tell me to come back to bed with you. Please tell me we can forget all the words said in the kitchen. Please, please, please. 

You don’t know where the pleading comes from. But whatever gods and goddesses may exist, whatever higher power in the Universe that would normally ignore you, hears out your silent pleas. 

His hand is warm when he first grabs your shoulder. 

It’s not rough, surprisingly gentle as fingertips press into your clothed skin and the first shake comes. It’s hardly enough to rouse a truly sleeping person. And Eddie realizes this as the second shake is a bit more firm, moving you a little more with a soft whisper of, “Hey, wake up.” 

The command isn’t as harsh as you’re used to from him. It’s crushed velvet, smoothing over your skin like the blanket you’d previously pondered for, making the guilt begin to deflate. A slow release of air and the accompanying feelings of dishonesty and disloyalty leaves your chest weathered when his next whisper comes not only louder, but closer.

“C’mon, you’ve gotta get up,” he insists, but all you care about is his cologne. He never changed it from that first night. Always something warm, always something spiced. And you hate it, because it’s still the feeling of coming home from a long week, “You’re not sleeping on the couch. I’ll carry you if I have to.” 

That makes your sleeping facade crack. Your lips betray you - one twitch, and Eddie knows you’re awake, pressing you to roll onto your back. 

“I know you’re awake now. Let’s go,” you can hear the dimples in his tone. You can picture the lazy smile, the shining eyes. With your eyes closed, you can pretend you never had to meet mean Eddie. When you’re not looking at him, it’s almost as if the man you initially met still exists, to have and to hold, to make inside jokes with as you let the scenery around the two of you fade to black. 

You crack your eyes back open to find him looking down at you just as you’d expected, but not nearly with as much mischief or mirth as you had craved. 

The Eddie you first met is gone. He’s not coming back, and you can’t live with your eyes closed. Hell, maybe he had drowned in that ocean between you two as well. 

Maybe if you took the leap, just attempted to take on the waves, you’d meet him somewhere at the bottom of it all. 

“I thought you said you’d carry me?” you tease. 

His hand. His hand is still on your shoulder, and his palm is still searing you. You couldn’t pull away from its burn if you tried. 

“I’d carry you if I had to,” he corrects, “You’re awake, therefore, I don’t have to.” 

“I don’t know. I think my legs may be broken.” 

Eddie says your name firmly. It takes you off guard, momentarily distracts you from the way he squeezes your shoulder, “Let’s go before I change my mind and leave you out here.” 

You decide against putting up any further fight. You’re just happy he’s talking to you again. How odd and peculiar that feeling is. 

You rise from the couch and take him in. He’s no longer in his jeans, having traded out his earlier day clothes for something more comfortable. A pair of comfortable grey sweatpants, one or two sizes too big with the drawn string pulled to its limit and tied into a knot. He’s wearing a faded band shirt, loved in every way possible: it’s been cut along the bottom to shorten it in length, several holes torn along the torso and in the neck hole, the once black fabric now a stormy shade of grey far darker than the sweatpants. There’s a logo across the chest, peeling away at the edges. 

“Deftones?” you ask, squinting to make out the words written amongst the logo, “What is that? A band?” 

He chuckles, almost in disbelief, before he realizes you’re serious, “Wait, you’ve really never heard of them?” 

You shake your head, “No, are they any good?” 

You’re still making no move to stand, Eddie towering over you as you tilt back to meet his gaze. The disbelief is morphing, ever changing, pulling in and out of his features like the sea against sand. Like the waves of his self-imposed ocean that taunts you. You only dig your toes into the sand, you only stand at a far enough distance to not get your feet wet yet. You’re not ready to dive in. You’re not brave enough yet. 

His chuckle this time isn’t in disbelief. 

“Yeah, yeah. They’re great. I can show you them later, if you just come to bed.” 

The game of teasing and begging is over, and you refuse to push your luck. He’s talking to you. Normally. You finally stand and shrug off that hand on your shoulder, finally trying to get your wits and not glance down at the waistband of his boxers. 

“Okay, lead the way,” you gesture before spinning your upper body around with your feet planted in place, a soft crack coming from your back. 

There’s no words exchanged in that brief walk to the bedroom; there’s nothing else to really say. The fight happened, Eddie locked you out, you’re both having to start from square one. The ocean still calls to you, and there’s nothing you can change about it. 

His room is the same as it was hours ago, when you’d locked yourself into it. A little messy, a little boyish, but comforting all the same. 

“A couple ground rules,” he finally breaks the silence. Oh, this oughta be good. “One, no more looking through my shit for…. Uh, magazines.”

“Trust me,” you hold up a hand in defeat, “Learned my lesson the first time. You can keep your gross Playboys.” 

His brows wrinkle in minute irritation, “Gross? They’re not gro- You know what? Whatever. Yeah. Stay away from my gross playboys. Second rule, I have enough pillows we can make a… wall, I guess?” 

You have to bite back your amusement, you have to remind yourself of the roar of an ocean. Maybe if you taste the salt on your lips again, you’ll remember that this is all temporary. 

“Sounds good to me,” you agree. 

“Obviously that means staying on your side of the bed. And it’s not a big bed, obviously, so-”

“What side of the bed do you prefer?” 

“Excuse me?” 

He’s dumbfounded despite the question not being a hard one. “The bed – which side do you prefer?” 

“I, uh, I-” he brings a hand up to the back of his neck, a nervous habit as he rubs his curls that are matted at the nape, “The left, I guess? Or I mean, if we’re looking down at it, it’d be the right, but…” he waves his hand in the general direction of the side he’s referring to, the one closest to the wall, “You know.” 

A nervous Eddie is a sight to behold. The fidgeting, the flush of his neck and cheeks, the stuttering sentences. He’s nervous about sharing a bed with you. 

“Perfect,” you offer a smile, although you don’t think it does much for him considering he’s looking down at the ground in bashfulness, “I prefer the right side. I just refer to them by left or right when you’re laying down, by the way.” 

You don’t have to add that tidbit – you don’t need to reassure him that your mind works in the same way as his in the slightest. But you do, and the red of his cheeks lightens. 

“Cool,” he murmurs.

“Cool,” you echo. 

The awkwardness can be afforded as the two of you straighten out the comforter, not needing to focus on shaking hands or fluttering chests as Eddie climbs in first and begins to rearrange his spare pillows as a barrier. His sweatpants slip down a bit lower as he does this, and you catch sight of the band of his boxers.

The band of his boxers pressing into the jut of his hips. The streak of alabaster, soft and unmarked unlike his arms, and the coarse patch of hair that interrupts the center of it all. 

“Have you ever considered getting hip tattoos?” you blurt out, and immediately, you both freeze. 

You really need to learn to think before you speak. 

“Uh… what?” Eddie chuckles nervously, presenting an opportunity to redeem yourself. 

He didn’t even have to catch you staring. You’d outed yourself.

And yet, you choose to double down, to take the embarrassment in stride as if it doesn’t phase you, “Hip tattoos. Have you ever thought about getting some? I think they’d be pretty sick.” 

Your self-destruction pays off when Eddie smiles up genuinely at you. Sugar coated sweetness, a bit of authentic amusement. 

“You’re right. They would be pretty sick.” 

He should have mocked you for staring at his hips. He should have taken the opportunity to embarrass you and run, but the tides are shifting between you two, and you keep taking two steps closer to his ocean. The sand only grows colder and colder the closer you get to the edge, and it has your mind reaming with the possibility of what it would feel like to recklessly dive in. 

“I’m sorry, I’m going to need you to say that again, this time into the microphone,” you make a fist, an invisible microphone in your grasp as you thrust it out towards Eddie. 

He laughs. He laughs, and its reverb travels through the caverns of your chest. Suddenly, you’re sipping a watered down Amaretto Sour and his breath smells of Jack & Coke, and the lowlights of the room have become treacherous bar lighting as you lean into his shoulder, sitting side by side on bar stools. 

The echoes still carry as he swats away your hand, eyes squinted with the mirth you’d be seeking out since he ‘woke’ you up, “Jesus Christ, you’re an idiot.” 

“Yeah, a funny idiot.” 

“Oh, now you’re just pushing it too far.” 

“Too far? I don’t think I’ve gone far enough.” 

Why don’t we ever hang out? Why don’t we ever banter like this when out with the others? 

It’s so easy, easy to continue to giggle as you turn out the bedroom light before crawling into bed with him, feeling his warmth radiating even through the pillows between the two of you. Pillows, oceans – they all have started to feel the same. 

Once the two of you have settled, you on your side and Eddie on his back, a nicer sort of silence blankets you. It’s almost as soft as his voice when he woke you, almost the same type of crushed velvet if you don’t reach out to it. But if you were to touch it, brush your fingertips over the material with intention and inhibition, you’d find the roughness. Roughness that mimics sand amongst an ocean’s waves, a roughness that says there’s more to be spoken about. 

“The bed’s nicer than the couch,” you speak out loud rhetorically, not necessarily to him, but to the coarseness. To the sand and to the fake velvet, “More comfortable.”

“I know,” he answers to fill the space. I know, meaning he’s slept on his couch. 

It makes sense. It’s his couch. But your mind runs rampant with the scenarios. Did he discover this through afternoon naps after hard shifts? Or maybe after one too many night outs that ended in collapsing face first into the cushions because he was too drunk to make it to his bedroom? 

You jump when he sits up suddenly, “Fuck.” 

“What’s your problem?” you twist from your position of your back facing him, squinting into the darkness.

“The photo.”

“What photo?”

“Photo evidence, you idiot! We have to send a photo to those fuckers.” 

You had nearly forgotten that this is what this is; your friends and a bet are the pushing force behind this all. It’s not fate, it’s not the moon bringing two tides  together. You didn’t happen upon his beach because you two decided to give this, whatever this was, a fighting chance. 

You sit up next to him, crinkling your nose, “My phone’s in the living room, I think.” 

“I can go get it.”

An offer of chivalry you didn’t even have to ask for. 

Same as him sharing the bed. Same as him paying for your meal when you forget your wallet, or catching you when you trip up steps outside a bar. You really wish the list would stop growing. 

He’s shuffling out of the bed, down the line of pillows and off the end of it, before you can even protest. You didn’t even tell him where the godforsaken phone might be besides that it’s in the living room. That doesn’t stop him. 

It feels like an eternity, but is probably no more than a full minute, before he’s returning back to the room. He’s looking down at the phone, your screen lit up and basking his face in the only light in the room. 

“What is it?” you can only assume the chat is messaging for a photo, by the scrunch of his brows and the small part of his lips. 

“Nothing.”

That was the first thing that made your stomach drop.

The second comes when he returns to the bed, fighting his way up into his original position, handing the phone over to you as you glance at the notifications. 

A notification from Steve. A private message, not sent in the groupchat. 

STEVE-O: i’m sorry, i really don’t know what happened that night. the others won’t tell me either so they’re kind of useless. whatever it was, i don’t think it was you, though, honey.

Honey. Mother fucking Steve Harrington, and his need to use nicknames. 

“All good?” Eddie asks, as if he didn’t just have access to this message, as if he doesn’t know what Steve’s said. You don’t know why the thought of Eddie seeing Steve’s careless nickname throws you over the edge. You just assume he’ll take it out of context, that he’ll spin it as a weapon against you. 

“Fine,” you curtly reply, opening your phone and ignoring the message, going straight to the group chat and opening your camera. Your heart is still racing in terrible inconvenience as you glance over your shoulder at him, “How do we wanna take it this time?” 

“I don’t know about you, but I personally just love to take it laying down-” 

“Are you trying to make a sexual innuendo right now? Because if so, stop. It’s terrible.” 

More giggles, more chuckles, more taunting waves of a daunting ocean that is scaring you less and less. Maybe the jump is worth it. Maybe the initial chill will break and show you warmth. Maybe it would never be cold to begin with. 

At least he’s teasing you, which is a good sign. You lay down in the same position as earlier, this time Eddie propping himself up to peek over the wall of pillows so his face is in the picture. 

It’s too dark to really see your faces very clearly. You can still make them out, to be fair, but it’s hard. You have to strain your eyes quite a bit to make out the mess of your hair and the indents of Eddie’s dimples.

Eddie’s dimples. His dimples. Oh God, he’s smiling.

“Turn on the flash,” he reaches over, invades your space with boy and spice and nostalgia to tap on the screen himself and do as he had just requested. 

“What was the point of telling me to do it, if you were just going to do it yourself,” you grumble, trying to yank the phone out of his reach. He only leans further, pressing into the boundary of pillows, his collarbone knocking against the back of your shoulder. 

Warmth. So, so much warmth. It occurs to you that it’s not just the smell of his cologne that feels like a long week’s homecoming; his touch and presence can manage to do the same, when he’s not being a pest of course. 

“Shut up and take the photo,” he bickers before giving up and settling back into his pose. He even adds to it, throwing up a peace sign with the hand not holding him up.

You can’t help but tease him for it, mimicking the motion with your own hand and failing at holding back your tittering. When you tap the button to take the photo, the screen flashes white and you both immediately groan before rubbing your eyes. 

“Fuck.”

“Wow, bright idea.” 

“Was that a pun?” Eddie stops mid eye rub, side-eyeing you, “Fuck off. That was a terrible pun.” 

“I never said my puns were good!” you try to defend yourself, blinking to bring relief to your scorned irises and focus on the photo of the two of you, “I said my jokes were good.”

“Puns are jokes.” 

You completely ignore him, and instead sigh deeply when you see the photo, “We need to retake it. No flash, this time. They can adjust brightness on their own time.” 

The photo is terrible, truly. The photo captures the moment somewhere between your enjoyment of copying Eddie and the pain the two of you had brought upon yourselves. Squinty eyes, coiled lips. Two peace signs of two drastically differently sized hands. 

Don’t you dare, you scorn your mind at that trail of thought, don’t even start that comparison.

“Why?” Eddie protests, once again beginning to lean over and take a closer look at your phone, chest brushing your shoulder again, “Oh, c’mon, it’s fine – just send it so we can sleep before they bother us again.” 

You just shake your head, already reopening the camera app and being sure to adjust the settings. No blinding this photo. 

“Say cheese, pretty boy.” 

It’s not until you’ve tapped to take the photo that you both realize what you’ve said. 

Pretty boy.

Eddie is leaning in still, just as he is in the photo you’ve taken, and both of you look far too happy to be sharing a bed. The words – the nickname, the compliment – are still formed on your lips in it. If the flash was on again, you’d see the blush of his reaction. 

Neither comment on it. You won’t lean into your embarrassment for a second time tonight, and Eddie isn’t in the business of teasing you cruelly anymore, it seems. 

You can hear him swallow hard before he asks, “Is that one good?” 

“Fine,” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Um, yeah, it’s good. I sent it.” 

“Okay, good.”

“Good.”

The awkwardness is stifling. Heavy and drowning and goddamn stifling. 

You toss your phone far too quickly onto his nightstand, wishing the bed would swallow you whole. 

If you two were friends, it would have been mindless teasing. The same as when Steve calls you honey, or Robin rambles about how hot you look on a night out. But you two aren’t friends.

You two aren’t friends because of some mysterious change that occurred in Eddie while you went to the bathroom. You haven’t forgotten the burning question, and the longer you two lay there, the more you let it consume you rather than regret. 

“Hey, Eddie? Can I ask you a question?”

He’s laying flat on his back as he answers you, hands nervously wringing on his stomach, “You just did, but sure.” 

It should be a good thing. He’s still teasing you, it’s still a good thing. But all your questions die in your throat. 

What happened when I went into the bathroom that first night?

Why did you turn so cold towards me?

 Was it my fault?

Why aren’t we friends? 

The last one doesn’t go down without a fight. It reverberates and battles you, it tries to pull you into the ocean head first. 

Why aren’t we friends? 

“Do you still drive a motorcycle?” 

That sure was a funny way of asking what you needed to. 

He’s quiet for a moment, clearly puzzled by your random question, but nevertheless he says, “Yeah. Why?”

“No reason.” 

You’re picturing him stalking away from you again, without so much as a goodbye, straddling the bike and tucking his head away into the motorcycle. The last glimpse you’d ever had of everything he could have been to you. It’s enough to make your eyes water, your bones shake, your toes curl into coarse sand until they bleed. 

The next time you hear his voice, he’s whispering your name. You don’t respond, and so he tries it again, saying it a bit louder this time. 

“I know you’re not asleep. No one can fall asleep that quickly.”

“I can,” you snap, still choking on his waves and personal mourning, a yearning you need to find the grave of once more to bury – for good this time. 

“Clearly, you can’t,” he shuffles, but you don’t check to see if he’s sitting up. (He’s not, he feels like his back is glued to the bed). His voice is back to crushed velvet and kindness, vulnerability and softness, a sort of home you can never return to, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” 

That piques your interest. You turn, laying on your back and looking at the same ceiling as him in that moment, “For what? Earlier in the kitchen? Or at the bar?” you feel his flinch, and are quick to add, “Because consider it water under the bridge, okay? You’re forgive-”

“I mean for everything. I’m sorry for… everything.” 

Everything. Ten letters, four syllables. It means a whole lot more than it should be capable of. 

“Everything?” your voice is hardly audible as you turn to look at him. He’s half hidden by the wall put between the two of you. But if you squint, if you adjusted the brightness, you wonder if you’d see his eyes shining with the same remorse yours burn with. You wonder if you’d see the dirt caked under his nails from also digging up graves he shouldn’t have tonight. 

“Everything.”

Ten letters, four syllables, one leap of faith. The ocean isn’t as cold as you’d thought it would be. 

—

BIRDIE is typing…

DINGUS: i swear to god rob. if you’re not about to tell me what the fuck i did that night, you better lock your phone and just go to bed. 

BIRDIE stops typing.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

[nataliesfirefly]

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F! Reader - Part 8

a/n: heyy loves! if you’ve stuck around for all 8 parts, thank you SOOO much. writing this series and receiving so many kind comments and love has really made the past month and a half so enjoyable. i cant believe i’m concluding my first fic already!! it’s been so fun and i definitely want to write more. shoutout to my friend @avessss who encouraged me to start posting even though i was really nervous. i couldn’t have done it without her 💕 but anyways enjoy the last chapter! not sure when i will post next but until then… message me, give suggestions, etc!! love you all SOO much 💌

word count: 4.6k words

masterlist

playlist

warnings: MDNI 18+, afab reader, smut, oral (reader receiving), p in v, making out, language, angst for like one second, FLUFF, mentions of alcohol, not proofread

“A pint, please. Thanks.” You smile at the bartender as you slide forward five pounds. You stand and wait patiently, leaning against the bar as he shuffles away to go fill up a tall glass of beer.

You hear your name being said from next to you. You turn to see a familiar girl with olive skin and long, silky black hair. Your brain takes a few seconds to compute who it is.

“Sasha! Hey,” You grin and she smiles brightly. “Hi. I didn’t know if it was you or not,” She chuckles and you stand there awkwardly, not sure of what to say.

“How’s life?” She asks. “Uhh, good. Can’t complain.” You shrug as the bartender slides you the beer across the counter. You take a sip as she nods.

“Same here. Just a little terrified of the fact that we are going to be seniors in a year,” She runs a hand through her hair with a sigh. “Me too, girl.” You nod in agreement.

“How was your summer?” Sasha asks. You let out a sigh unintentionally before fixing your facial expression.

“It was… good,” You nod slowly, almost trying to convince yourself. “I don’t know if you know but…There’s a rumor going around that you and Farleigh had somewhat of a summer fling,” She winces after she says this.

“Oh God,” You press a hand to your forehead and shake your head. “Who told you that?” You groan.

“I’m assuming it came from Felix. I’m not sure, but I just wanted to tell you…” She places a hand on your shoulder comfortingly. “If you ever need to talk or anything like that, let me know.” She says, her English accent soft and elegant.

She seems almost too nice. You’ve never seen Sasha like this, so it’s hard to believe.

“Thank you.” You dip your head and take another sip of beer. “I know I was never the nicest to you and we were never close, but I’m here for you.” Her hand falls from your shoulder gently.

“I think I was honestly just threatened by you,” She continues. You jerk your head towards her quickly and furrow your eyebrows.

“What? Why?” You scoff as if it’s absurd. “I always had this… gut feeling that he was in love with you or something. He would talk about you nonstop, about how much you annoyed him and how much he ‘hated you.’ I knew better,” She shakes her head.

“Oh. Shit. I’m sorry,” You feel bad, suddenly. Like you were the cause of their relationship problems.

“But that whole thing is over now,” You wave your hand dismissively. “He’s an asshole, isn’t he?” You both giggle at her words.

“He is. I can see why you broke up with him,” You nod, feeling no remorse for talking about Farleigh this way. It’s all true. But you also know Sasha had a lot to do with the shitty parts of their relationship.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” She grins and holds up her hand, giving a tiny wave. “Yeah. See you,” You watch her walk away before turning back to your drink, grabbing it and heading to find an empty table.

You sigh, leaning down and fishing your textbook out of your bag. You still have four chapters to read before tomorrow. The first term of your junior year is kicking your ass, even though it’s only October.

Sooner or later, you see Felix walking through the entrance of the pub. You immediately crane your neck to search for any signs of Farleigh, since he usually follows Felix around. But thankfully, he’s not anywhere to be found.

You turn your attention back to your textbook, and when you glance back up, Felix is sitting across from you.

“Hey.” He smiles and you notice the cigarette between his fingers. “Hi. How are you?” You reply, not exactly in the mood to talk to him right now.

“Oh, you know. Just drowning in work,” He sighs and leans back in his chair, throwing his head back slightly.

“You and me both,” You chuckle lightly and close your textbook, knowing you won’t get anything read so long as Felix is here. He leans forward again and takes a drag from his cigarette.

“So…” He starts, trailing off. You raise your eyebrows. “So?”

“Are you and Farleigh ever going to make up?” He asks suddenly. You cough, surprised by the abrupt question.

“No.” You shake your head. “Don’t even try it, Felix.” You roll your eyes and he groans. “Please, we don’t even get to hang out much anymore because you’re avoiding him,” He whines.

“Then just… arrange a time to hang out with me when Farleigh isn’t there.” You grimace at the feeling of his name in your mouth. Felix facepalms. “C’mon. Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but…”

“It sounds like you think you know what happened.” You narrow your eyes and he seems confused. “What?” He tilts his head.

“Lola told me you’re spreading rumors. Like, that Farleigh and I had some fling over the summer,” You explain, and he glances down like he’s been caught, before looking back up with amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“What, you thought no one would hear you two fucking at one in the morning? You guys were so loud, it’s like you wanted to be caught,” He chuckles and shakes his head. Your face burns beet red with embarrassment.

“I don’t judge you for it. I just didn’t expect it,” He says. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you go telling everyone about it,” You reply.

“I didn’t mean to. I told one person in confidence.” Felix says. “You know you can’t trust these people to keep things to themselves,” You shake your head in disappointment.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But I think Farleigh really wants to talk to you.” He says, his tone persuasive and you immediately cringe.

“I’m not talking to him. Nothing will come of it,” You finish off your beer and set the glass on the table decisively.

“I just don’t want our friendship to be messed up because of this.” He says, sounding a bit sad. You look back up to him and see him glancing down at his lap.

“We’re good. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.” It comes off harsher than you meant it to, but Felix doesn’t seem to mind. “I can’t just forgive and forget, you know?”

He nods. “Yeah. Alright, then. Just consider talking to him. I’ll see you later, mate.” He drums his fingers on the table before standing up and walking to the bar. You sigh and decide to pack up your things after checking your watch and seeing the time. It’s getting late.

You stand up and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. You walk out of the pub and down the cobbled streets while looking around and just observing the several groups of students, chatting loudly or laughing. The chilly autumn breeze tosses around crimson and golden leaves.

You go over your plans for the remainder of tonight in your head. You’re going to get back to your dorm, take a shower, then get the rest of your work done. That is, if you don’t procrastinate like you usually do.

You enter your dorm building and then stop in your tracks when you see him standing there, at the bottom of the stairs. It’s like you have a full body reaction to him standing in front of you, sending a chill down your spine and making your stomach churn. He doesn’t speak, he just stares at you. You step forward, walking up the stairs and completely ignoring him. “Can we please talk?” Farleigh calls your name.

“No, we can’t.” You respond, your tone harsh and bitter. You hear footsteps coming up the stairs behind you and you increase your pace, trying to get to your door and unlock it before he can catch up to you. But it’s no use, he’s already standing there behind you.

“Please. Just let me talk to you,” He begs. You shake your head. “Farleigh, I already know how this is going to go. You don’t talk.” You can’t even stand to look at him, even addressing him is difficult after all these months of not speaking.

“I’m going to talk. I swear. Please,” He pleads. “Fine,” You groan with exasperation as you unlock your door, although you’re sort of curious as to what he’s going to say.

He closes the door behind him and you go to sit on the edge of your bed after setting your things down and kicking off your shoes, looking at him expectantly. “Okay, talk.”

“I’m sorry. For everything.” Farleigh says, and it surprisingly sounds sincere. “I’m sorry for being a dick to you all these years. And those things I said at Saltburn, I didn’t mean any of it.” His voice is quiet and he looks down at the ground as he speaks. You blink a few times and take a moment to respond.

“Why would you say those things if you never meant them?” You ask, your own voice timid as you remember all the harsh and cruel words he said to you that one night.

“Did you mean it when you said you hated me and you wished we never met?” He fires back. You bite the inside of your cheek and avoid his gaze as regret washes over you. “...I never said–”

“Yes you did.” It’s silent and the tension in the air is palpable. It seems like you’re both waiting for who is going to speak next, but you aren’t exactly sure what to say.

“I just don’t understand why you’re so eager to apologize when you’ve literally hated me since the day we first met,” You chuckle sarcastically and shake your head. He falls silent, and when you glance back up to him, he looks nervous, like something’s on the tip of his tongue.

“That’s not… exactly true.” He mutters. “I never hated you. I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you. That night at Saltburn, when Felix introduced us to each other. I saw you and I just felt… Something just came over me. I’d never felt it before. I mean, I was so captivated by you. I couldn’t sleep that night because I was thinking about you every second. And I was scared. I was so scared. So I was mean to you.”

He lets out a breath after his confession and you stare at him in disbelief. You’re barely processing anything he’s saying. Is this real? You feel like you should pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.

“And Felix never kept his friends around for long, so I knew I couldn’t get attached to you. I thought you were just passing by and that I would never see you again. But when you came back the next summer, then the next, and then you got into Oxford, I knew I was fucked.

“I just kept pushing my feelings down and instead of dealing with them, I was just… a bitch. I was trying to push you away and I was hoping that would get rid of my feelings. But it didn’t. And I regret it so, so much. I wasted all this time and I was being so stupid. I was just scared of love. I was scared of loving you.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes and you can hear your heart pounding in your chest. You swear you can see tears in his own eyes.

“What about Sasha?” You ask when you finally gather yourself. “Really? You don’t know why I dated Sasha?” He chuckles a bit like it should be obvious. You shake your head no.

“I just needed someone to distract me. I got with all those people to fill the void. I mean, Sasha and I’s relationship was purely based off of sex. And every single time, I pictured that it was you instead of Sasha. I would close my eyes and imagine it was you. I think that was the only way I was able to get off,” He laughs. Your eyes widen at his words and your stomach flips. So that was why he was always moaning like a bitch?

“So when we finally… I freaked out. It was getting too real, and so I pushed you away again. And I said some shitty things.” You blink and a few tears fall. You don’t even know how to describe how you’re feeling right now. So many emotions are building inside of you, and they’re so dense and heavy, you’re not sure how to comprehend them.

“I’m so, so fucking sorry.” Farleigh seems to notice that you’re crying. “You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m a fucking idiot,”

Before you know it you’re off of your bed, crashing into him and sobbing against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, locking you in a tight embrace and enveloping you in his warmth. Your shoulders shake as you feel all the emotions pouring out of you. He holds you like he’s never going to let go. You don’t want him to let go. Ever.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispers your name into your hair. “I’ll never do that to you again.” He continues muttering these things to you as you let him hold you, melting into the hug.

You look up at him and his brown eyes are illuminated with affection. Something about him is different. He’s softer, unlike his usual cold and teasing personality.

He gently moves some hair out of your face and kisses your forehead, causing you to blush and smile softly.

“Why did we waste so much time when we could have been together?” You ask timidly, more of a rhetorical question. He sighs and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Cause we’re stupid,” He chuckles and you let out a quiet laugh. “It doesn’t matter now. We have the rest of our lives to make up for it,” He grins down at you and you smile against his hand that cups your face. He leans down and you tilt your head up to meet his lips. The kiss you share is slow and sensual, like you’re both trying to savor each other for as long as possible, like you’re making up for all those years of fabricated hatred. You can’t deny that you missed his lips and the way that he kisses, the way his tongue licks into your mouth. He pulls away after a minute.

“But I still feel like I need to make it up to you,” Farleigh’s expression changes and his voice lowers to that familiar deep and gravelly sound. You can see the lust in his eyes and you feel butterflies swarming in your stomach.

“What should I do for you, baby?” His hands snake down to your hips as he lowers himself slowly to the ground until he’s on his knees. Your heart races and you feel chills racing across your skin.

He looks up at you and you swear your knees almost give out from underneath you just at the sight. “Far..” You giggle shyly and feel your face burn red.

His fingers fiddle with the waistband of your skirt, almost teasing you and waiting until you ask him to take it off. But after a moment he’s pulling it down gently, and you step out of it gingerly and nudge it to the side with your foot.

He groans and his hands roam up and down your thighs. “You’re so perfect,” He mumbles as he hooks your lace panties under his fingers and pulls them down as well, almost hurriedly this time like he’s just that eager to eat you out until you’re sobbing for him.

Without any warning or time to prepare, his mouth is already on you, tasting you passionately with his tongue and moaning, the vibrations going straight to your core.

You moan breathlessly, your hand reaching down to tangle in his curly hair for something to ground you, and he seems to like this. He keeps letting out these small, needy whines like he’s the one getting devoured.

Every swirl and flick of his tongue has you whimpering like you’re in pain, your legs feeling unstable and weak. He sucks on your clit and you feel two of his fingers already inching their way inside, curling inside of you deliciously. It’s all too much and your breath has turned into short, high-pitched, desperate huffs.

“Please- Shit, Farleigh,” The third finger he inserts draws a long moan out of you. You don’t care if your neighbors hear you. You’re too lost in the pleasure that he’s giving you, with no drawbacks or regret looming in the future. When you think about how he just confessed his love for you, it only brings you closer to the edge of your beautiful release.

He laps up your slick, his tongue getting dangerously close to your entrance. You gasp for air as his fingers leave, only to be replaced by his tongue. You whine at the new feeling of his tongue deep inside of you, his thumb circling your clit. You feel your climax approaching, threatening to make you crumble and beg for mercy.

A deep and guttural groan leaves him as he continues fucking you with his tongue. “Far, I’m close-“ Your hand twists in his hair and you roll your hips against his face absentmindedly, almost like you’re stuck in a trance.

His tongue slips out of you, his nose nudging against your clit. Then, you’re gone. You feel like you’re floating, like you’re the only two people in the world right now, all your thoughts disappearing as that divine ecstasy shoots through your veins and melts your muscles and your bones.

He stands back up and takes you into his strong arms, cradling you as he brings you over to your bed, with occasional kisses along the way. You both pull away to tear off your clothes. You hurriedly pull off your sweater and your bra and toss them aside, hearing them land somewhere on the floor. Farleigh takes his own shirt off and his jeans, revealing that beautiful body you’ve subconsciously been dreaming of.

“Lay down,” You tell him with some sort of newfound confidence. You’ve never been on top before, but right now you want to pay him back and give him all that you have to offer.

“Mmm,” He hums in response, laying down on your small, twin-sized bed. You climb onto the bed and straddle him, feeling slightly nervous as his hands rest on your hips. You keep your hands on his chest as you grind your hips down onto him, feeling the form of him through his boxers.

He’s rock hard, and it only encourages you to continue to grind against him, rolling your hips smoothly and slowly. He whimpers and grips your hips harder, biting his lip. “Fuck, baby,” He moans, his hips bucking up slightly to meet yours.

You can’t wait anymore. You reach down and maintain eye contact as you slowly pull down his boxers, shuffling them down his legs.

It’s definitely intimidating, but you’re determined to ride him. He looks up at you. “Is this okay?” He asks, his hands returning to your hips. You nod. “Yeah,” You reply before rising up on your knees and adjusting yourself before sinking down onto him.

You wince at the delicious pain as your teeth sink into the plush of your bottom lip, his hands guiding you further down his length. A string of curses leave his lips once his whole cock is inside of you. He definitely missed this.

You place your hands on his chest again as you begin to drag your hips back and forth. He whimpers and whispers your name like a prayer. “That’s it, fuck-“ His grasp on your hips tighten and you can already guess that you’ll have bruises.

You rock your hips back and forth, creating a better pace for the two of you as he thrusts up into you. That pained look crosses his face again as you make eye contact. You’re completely enthralled by the sight of each other, a sheen of sweat forming on both of your foreheads. Your head falls back once you finally find the perfect angle that brings you such satisfaction, your jaw going slack. “Baby,” He begs, breathing heavily.

You feel yourself growing tired from the fast rhythm, and you slow down, still circling your hips on top of him. He seems to sense that you’re growing fatigued, so he flips the two of you over, switching your places. You’re dizzy and caught off guard, but you focus on his eyes as he takes over, slowly thrusting into you with long strokes.

Farleigh reaches down to grab your hand, intertwining your fingers together and holding on tightly. He lowers his head to pepper kisses across your forehead, your nose, your cheeks. He brushes some hair out of your face.

“I love you,” He mutters, his nose rubbing against yours. Your eyes widen at his words and your heart skips a beat. You squeeze his hand weakly and grin.

“I love you too,” You whisper back, feeling tears brimming in your eyes. “I love you so much,” You tell him, and he lets his head fall into the crook of your neck as he moans desperately, his thrusts faltering. Your other hand rests on the top of his head, stroking his curls. You both finish at the same time, whispering each other’s names and more confessions of love. It’s meaningful, beautiful, and sweet. Something you’ve craved but never experienced. That is, until now.

He collapses next to you and eventually pulls out of you, causing you to grunt just a bit. You lay there, your legs entangled with his and his arms around you protectively. He pulls the sheets over the two of you and continues to kiss you slowly with so much passion and affection.

Farleigh pulls away and swipes the tears off your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours. You take his hand in yours once again and press your forehead against his.

“I could get used to this,” You whisper with a cheeky grin. He laughs softly. “Really?” He responds sarcastically, raising his eyebrows.

“Really.” You giggle quietly and he presses another kiss to your cheek. “I would consider spending the rest of my life with you,” He shrugs nonchalantly and you can’t seem to stop smiling. You don’t think you’ve ever been this happy in your life.

“You’d consider it? Woah, thanks,” You say with fake awe, gasping. “I’ve been considering it for a while, actually,” He mutters, running his fingers through your hair. “Have you?” You whisper, suddenly feeling sleepy. Everytime he holds you like this, it puts you right to sleep. You feel so safe and loved in his arms.

“Mhm.” His other hand rests on the small of your back and you feel your eyelids growing heavy. “I love you, Farleigh,” You whisper. “I love you too.” He replies, and with that, you drift off to sleep, with no cares or worries in the world, now that you’ve finally solved your problems with Farleigh. You’re so glad you gave him a second chance.

The next morning you wake up to Farleigh pulling you closer to him, nuzzling his head in your chest and groaning. You yawn and glance over to your bedside table, checking the time on your alarm clock. 9:42 AM.

Shit. You forgot about your class. It started at 9:30. Oh well. You groan and let your head fall back onto the pillow, rubbing your forehead.You pat Farleigh’s head, his curls sticking out at awkward angles but still managing to look cute.

You shiver and reach down to pull the duvet over yourself. He stirs at your movement and eventually, his dark brown eyes open.

A grin immediately appears on his face as he looks at you, taking in your appearance. Thank God you hadn’t worn makeup the day before. You were in your natural state, besides the messy hair. He traces his finger along your jawline and you smile, tilting your head.

“Good morning,” He wraps you up in his arms again, desperate to be close to you. His voice is deep and raspy. You’ll never get tired of his morning voice.

“Morning,” You reply, snuggling up to him and breathing in his scent. He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back soothingly.

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt about waking up next to you?” Farleigh asks. You giggle quietly. “Well, your wish came true,” You reply with a quick raise of your brows.

Suddenly, you remember what Lola said that one night at Saltburn as you think about you and Farleigh’s relationship over the years.

“Lola told me something a few months ago,” You start. “Mmm, and what was that?” He responds.

You inhale slowly. “She said that you were looking for me one morning and you came by our dorm, and you seemed very worried about me,” You smile at the thought, knowing what you know now.

“Oh. Yeah, I remember that. I was always worried sick about you. Whether you got home after a night out, if you drank too much, if some guy took advantage of you…” He trails off and sighs.

“Really?!” You ask, gazing up at him in shock. “You’re so confusing,” You let out a breathy laugh and shake your head.

“Do you remember our first night at Oxford? The very first party we went to?” He asks. You nod. He fiddles with a strand of your hair.

“After our little… argument, I stayed away from you the rest of the night. But then it was getting late, and I couldn’t find you, and I didn’t know if you knew the way back to your dorm. When I went into the bathroom I found you passed out on the floor. Black out drunk.” He explains, his voice soft.

“Anyone could have found you, or taken advantage of you. So I picked you up and carried you back to your dorm and tucked you into your bed.” Your eyes widen as your brain registers his words. Lola never told you about that.

“And when we were talking that night on the steps outside at Saltburn when we couldn’t sleep, the first summer you were there, you fell asleep on my shoulder. So I carried you up to your room.”

It’s silent for a minute as you process this. Was it a common theme for Farleigh to carry you to your bed when you were passed out?

“I never knew you cared that much.” You whisper, reaching up to play with one of his curls. “I don’t think I knew, either.” He mumbles.

You kiss him, slowly and gently, smiling against his lips. He grins, breaking the kiss, before holding the back of your head and guiding you back to him.

And you really believe that in this moment, you could die happy. You want to spend the rest of your life with him. The hot August nights, the freezing December mornings, the summer days under cerulean skies. The good days and the bad days. You can’t even remember how it felt to hate Farleigh. Every single trace of dislike for him is gone, erased completely from your heart. All that’s left is a love too strong to comprehend.

taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld @florkt @i-love-ptv @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha

[violetrainbow412-blog]

White lies [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k

summary: you meet Spencer thanks to a nice coincidence and you become recurring chess partners, but he leaves out a small detail

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

Spencer had come back to that park after a long time and, honestly, it was as quiet as he remembered it. He liked to sit there to read, watch the birds, listen to the trees hitting each other; just enjoy a moment of life. Matthew, a teenager he used to play chess with, sometimes kept him company, but he knew from his mother that he had sprained his ankle and could barely get out of his room, so those evenings it was just him and a couple of old men in a remote section of his favorite hangout.

The book he had in hand could have finished in less than ten minutes if he had wanted to, but it was one he had a particular interest in and so he was taking notes in a notebook by his side, lengthening his reading time. And besides, he had proposed to take things a little more calmly since the recovery of his leg, now that he could walk by himself, and that seemed to him a quite useful exercise.

The man was dimly aware that someone was sitting at the table next to his, but curiosity was not enough to force him to look away from the pages. It wasn't until after a while that he heard the characteristic sound of the chess pieces moving in the box that formed the board that he paid attention and noticed that the one who was settling there was a woman.

He tried not to look at you too much so as not to make you uncomfortable, but the quick scan he gave you only led him to the conclusion that you might be a college student and that you were very pretty. You were carefully arranging the pieces and once you finished, you looked around the whole park as if you were looking for something or someone, and then you took a pack of chocolates from your backpack and put it to the side of the board, somewhat disappointed that you hadn't found who you expected.

"Are you waiting for Matthew?" Spencer dared to ask. You were startled and had to ask him to repeat the question, a little afraid that a stranger had made such a pointed remark "I've seen him a couple of times eating those sweets and since he likes chess, I thought you were expecting him"

"Oh, you know him" you exclaimed, a little calmer. You were surprised by how observant the man had been, for a couple of random pieces of information had led him to the correct conclusion "I was his babysitter for a while and I ran into his mother the other day and she said he comes here in the evenings so I thought I'd come to see him”

“Too bad, he has a sprained ankle,” he informed you, with a sad grin. “Maybe he'll be back in a week or two. I'm Spencer, by the way."

"Y/N" you introduced yourself, shaking the hand the man was offering you "So you guys are friends?"

"Sometimes I play with him"

"Huh yeah?"

"Yeah. He is very good"

“I taught him,” you said, quite proud of yourself, “I hated when he asked to watch TV, and I brought all kinds of board games over to his house, until finally chess captivated him. In those years he participated in school contests so I was excited to play with him "

“Did you win some?”

“I was undefeated” you exclaimed, even more proud of yourself and smiling wistfully “But after a few years I gave it up. Matthew continued, so I thought it would be nice to dust myself off a bit,” you smiled.

You took a moment to look at the man, who might be only a few years older than you, and like him you were somewhat captivated. His long, wavy, golden hair gleamed in the sun and he seemed to wear clothes that were, if not expensive, then at least quite elegant. You looked at the stack of books and the notes scattered on the table with great interest, because frankly the only men who met all those characteristics used to be your grandfather's age and, although their talks were interesting, you couldn't get to think of them with anything more than tenderness. This person was different, almost like a sage out of a book.

You didn't know where you found the words to invite him to play with you and you didn't know why he agreed. He seemed busy when you arrived, which made you think that he might even be a teacher, but he stopped his activities to pay attention to you and that made you feel special.

"You like them? You can take some if you want. They were for Matty, but I'll buy him some more,” you said kindly, referring to the candies between you, to which Spencer nodded with a smile. You used to play with strangers all the time in that park, so you didn't think it was weird, but never one as handsome as the guy in front of you. You probably wouldn't even have dared to talk to him if he hadn't talked to you “White or black?”

“Black,” Spencer replied. You thought that maybe he was just being chivalrous to you by letting you move first, but you were also overconfident in your abilities and thought that he might feel bad if you turned out to be better.

"I'm not very good, I have to admit" you blatantly lied.

"Relax, I'm not either" he also lied. But neither of you could notice it.

The way Spencer saw the situation, he had two options: the first, demonstrate his extraordinary intelligence by beating you with a couple of moves, or the second, which was to turn off his brain for a while to give yourself a chance and lengthen the game a bit. He knew that, if he took the first option, you would most likely just smile and flatter him like everyone else did, or you might even ask him how he had done that. But Spencer was sick of being treated like a genius, despite being one, and having that label branded in his mind every place he went. He loved to learn, teach and know as much as he could on all subjects and he wasn't one bit ashamed of the abilities his mother gave him at birth, but his short experience with women led him to deduce that he had a better chance of continuing to talk to you throughout the afternoon if he would just play a little silly and pretend not to know what he was doing. And he definitely wanted to be with you that day.

It had been a while, and at some point, you moved a bishop.

Check in 4 moves if Spencer moved the rook.

He moved a pawn, you took the pawn.

Bishop takes the pawn and check in 10 moves.

He moved the knight. You moved your queen

Rook takes queen then checkmate in 5 moves.

But Spencer ignored any of the logical options his brain was giving him. He was moving pieces wrong on purpose and moving another pair well just so he could enjoy your face of concentration and victorious smiles when you made a smart move that he could have foreseen from the start of the game. He analyzed your game, you attacked hard at first, you were impulsive, but at some point you changed your modus operandi to a more calculating and strategic one, your eyebrows gave you away when you were going to make an important play.

"Check" you muttered at some point. Spencer knew how to beat you, but, I repeat, he moved badly on purpose "And that's mate"

"Oh really?" he said, pretending to be puzzled.

"Yes, you left the way clear for my bishop" you explained, with a kind tone but also somewhat condescending. It didn't seem like you wanted to make fun of him, but rather you were looking for a way to make him see his mistake, without knowing that your companion knew exactly what he had done wrong.

"Oh, it's true"

"Either way it's fine, you played excellent" you exclaimed to comfort him, while you offered him a piece of candy and smiled broadly. Spencer looked at his phone, expecting to see a message from JJ saying there was a case to attend to, but he found nothing.

"A rematch?" he said, trying his luck, to which you answered yes quite happily.

Spencer won that game and it was inevitable for both of you to wish for another game just for the tiebreaker, with you crowning yourself the winner of the evening. Between movements you took the opportunity to look at him and you would lie when you said that your cheeks didn’t feel hot from being in the presence of such a peculiar specimen. Most of the men around you behaved like cavemen, so being with someone that civilized was most pleasant.

“I have to go home, it's getting dark already,” you said, quite sad, after that third game. The candy had already run out and Spencer's book had been forgotten to the side, but you still didn't want to walk away with just the memory of those hazel eyes “But if you're ever around again, we could play… if you want."

"I'd love to" he replied, sounding quite sincere.

Would it be too daring to ask for his number? What if it had just been a nice time that arose from a coincidence? You didn't want to spoil it, or scare him away, or anything like that.

You only said goodbye saying that you hoped to see him again and he said the same thing before the two of you went off on your own, fearing you would never see each other again.

After a few days you went back to the park hoping to meet him, but you were disappointed to see the empty spot. The process was repeated a couple of times and although you were carrying books to spend the afternoon, the chess board could never be missing from your bag, keeping the hope of finding him again. Time wasn't wasted after all, as you took the opportunity to continue your schoolwork outdoors, but it saddened you to think that you probably wouldn't see Spencer again, going so far as to regret not finding a way to contact him. But whoever perseveres, reaches, and you verified it when one afternoon you finally found him sitting at the same table as the first time.

“Spencer! What a joy to see you here” you greeted him casually, as if you hadn't been going to the park repeatedly just hoping to find him.

The man apologized to you saying that his work had kept him so busy that he hadn't even had time to stop by and when you asked what he did for a living you were met with an ambiguous answer that he held a position in a government office. Not a complete lie, but not the truth either.

That's how you kept finding him around to play with him, until at some point you barely paid attention to the board to give priority to the chat. Every time you saw each other you thought, without the slightest idea of the truth, that Spencer had been practicing to improve, because sometimes out of five games you only won two. But other days you might have a perfect streak that, while it made you feel happy, allowed you to comfort your friend a little.

You had started carrying different snacks to at some point find out which one was his favorite, which turned out to be the trail mix and, truth be told, it was something you expected, as if it fit perfectly with his personality. That's how you started carrying a pack of those whenever you could, alternating it with other kinds of more substantial snacks that Spencer loved.

So it was that, during the nearly two months that Matthew was unable to go to the park, you and Spencer kept each other company. You learned that he was an avid reader that, according to your first impression of him, he had taught a few classes, that he lived alone, loved classical music, was a big fan of science fiction and science in general, in short, he was a bit of a nerd. He was always telling you interesting facts that you couldn't even have imagined and you always listened very carefully.

One day you were concentrating on your next move when his voice interrupted you. It was a very beautiful afternoon and you had decided to put on light clothes that fluttered in the wind.

“I forgot to tell you. I brought you a book” was what he had said and from his brown leather briefcase he extracted a book with a faded cover that he handed over to you with great care.

“Sylvia Plath?” you exclaimed with total emotion. You had talked about the interest you had in starting to read it in one of the last meetings, because considering Spencer a connoisseur of literature, he would probably know which book to start with "Where did you get it?"

"It was from my mother, but she won't mind if you read it"

You carefully caressed the back with your fingertips with the biggest smile on your face, feeling flushed at the obvious show of attention you were receiving.

"Thank you so much"

"It's no big deal"

"I'll give it back to you soon"

"Take the time you need" he exclaimed sweetly. He was wearing a gray knit vest and a black dot-patterned formal shirt, along with a brown tie. His hair framed his face and looked so soft it made you want to reach out and just stroke it. You had been so stunned watching him, wondering if he was a real man or not, until he reminded you that it was your turn.

You moved your queen. Check in 7 moves.

"Spencer, can I confess something to you?"

He moved his bishop. He is saved from check.

"Huh, yeah"

“These last few weeks I have had a lot of fun. I really like being with you”

He looked at you for a second, as if he was waiting for a but that never came. There was no but you just liked being with him. Reid didn't usually find many people who would enjoy his company without a work commitment involved and that you had said something like that made him feel a warmth in his heart that he couldn't describe.

"I just wanted to tell you that, no... I hope I wasn't weird"

"I like being with you, too," he exclaimed immediately, hoping you didn't get the wrong idea. "It's probably the most normal and quiet thing that happens during my week."

“You've never told me what you do at work, is it paperwork and stuff? Bureaucratic processes?

“Something like that” he lied “Most of the time it's stressful and very tiring. That's why I like coming here, with you, because it helps me relax. I used to play with a very dear friend, but I took a break because… I didn't feel like going back to it. But I have to admit that you are a wonderful player."

"I hope so. Because I'm about to beat you” you smiled, moving another piece and putting the game in check again. Spencer always knew that he had to move to win, but again he made enough mistakes to get beaten by you. Once this happened, he took his king and handed it to you with a small smile, allowing your hands to touch.

It was already getting a bit dark and that was the signal for both of you to come home.

"You won 3 out of 4," he informed you, more cheerful than he was supposed to be. "Rematch tomorrow?"

“Of course”

One of you always asked that and in the same way the other always answered yes. Come to think of it, it was pretty funny that when you lost the next afternoon you won and vice versa, allowing the promise of a rematch to always hold.

"Do you live far from here?"

You knew, of course, that there was another question implicit in it. He not only wanted to know how far away your apartment was, but he wanted to know if he could walk you there. You'd never thought of the two of you hanging out outside of your afternoon game sessions, so you told him it was about a fifteen-minute walk away, and he naturally offered to walk you there.

"You're not a serial killer or anything like that, are you?" you joked, although a part of you said it to watch his reaction and detect (if possible) any sign of a lie.

“I'm not, but it's quite right that you doubt me,” he replied, as he packed his things into his briefcase, smiling slightly as if he hadn't been offended but rather admired by a good question “From any man, really, because the largest number of serial killers is concentrated in the United States and 95% of murderers worldwide are… well, men. Possibly this is due to the levels of testosterone and the social implications of masculinity that exist, this isn’t counting the traumas that they may have developed during their lives. Speaking specifically of men with psychopathy, most of them are able to manipulate their chosen victims to gain their trust before harming them. Many murderers have been described as charming, an example of this is Ted Bundy, who even when he was arrested many women attended the trials with banners and self-declared his fans. A few years ago there was even a killer here in Virginia who would date young women and then kill them, because it was easier for him not to resist, but luckily he only took the lives of 3 women before he was caught”

Spencer wasn't even aware of the changes in expressions on your face until he looked at you, completely serious and doe-eyed.

"Should I be worried about the fact that you listed reasons why I shouldn't let you accompany me?"

“Oh no, no” he had probably scared you and it made him feel so sorry and silly “I just… like to read about it, I promise. In addition, I have a degree in psychology, sometimes we analyzed the profile of the murderers to understand their psyche. But if you don't want me to come with you, that's fine."

"I'll take the risk"

"I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry"

"You didn’t do it. It just wasn't such a convincing defense” you carefully reached out to grab his arm and encourage him to walk beside you, flashing him a sweet smile.

Spencer, still feeling guilty for having rambled on about psychopaths, walked by your side for a while, and until you started talking his mood improved. A lot of times your talks didn't have to do with anything scientific and focused more on pop culture stuff that Spencer was completely unaware of. But you never teased him, but little by little you started to explain to him the plot of different movies or celebrity gossip of the moment, which was very funny for him. Your vibrant personality had him completely fascinated.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" you said once you got to your building. They were nice condos that Spencer had seen before.

"If something unforeseen does not arise, yes"

"Thanks for joining me. And for not being a murderer too” you laughed, still in a joking mood, while he looked at the ground a little embarrassed.

"Your lack of confidence hurts me"

"Admit that it's your fault, Doctor Reid" taking advantage of the artificial height difference that standing a few steps higher than him gave you, you leaned over to hug him goodbye and he sighed deeply as he felt the softness of your body against his "I hope you're well. Rest"

"Bye," he breathed out softly, entranced by the sight of your kind eyes looking directly at him.

He went home wishing with all his might that the job in the unit would allow him to meet you, but unfortunately it didn't, and since the two of you still hadn't thought of exchanging numbers he didn't find a way to apologize to you. He went to the park for several days in a row, but he couldn't find you anywhere and he was afraid that you wouldn't want to see him again. Had he done something wrong? Had you really believed that he could be a criminal? He probably explained to you what FBI unit he worked for and all that weird stuff he was telling you would have started to make sense.

He had already given up hope just the day you were practically running to the park, your chessboard bouncing through your bag and your breathing heavy as a sign of your poor physical condition.

You expected him to be there even with your repeated absences and when you finally arrived you noticed that around your usual table was a small group of people. You didn't know what it could be so you decided to go look too and you were surprised to discover Matty, whom it was the first time you'd seen in months, playing with nothing more and nothing less than your game partner. 

You knew Matty enjoyed playing fast chess, so a clock was sitting next to both of them, and Spencer seemed to be playing better than he ever had in his life. His eyes lasted a second to scan the positions of the pieces and another to move his own, without needing to make any effort to plan the right move.

Everyone around was impressed by the skill of the teenager and the man who, according to your deductions, had not played more than 15f minutes. After a couple more minutes Spencer smiled broadly and declared that the younger one was checkmated, drawing Matthew's complaint and collective applause for the feat.

"The boy is good, but not as good as him" an old man informed you, who apparently knew the development of these games very well.

Spencer enjoyed the cheers rather modestly for a moment, but when he caught sight of you watching him from the crowd he went completely pale.

"Hello," he hurried to greet you, getting up from his seat to approach you and causing the fan group to break up "You came."

"Yeah, I've been kind of busy with college," you sincerely apologized, letting him envelop you in a hug that took you by surprise.

"I'm glad to see you"

"But what was all that about, by the way?"

"What was what?"

"Y/N!" said Matty, rushing over to greet you. "Do you guys know each other?"

"Yeah, I would say that" you clearly noticed the young man's intention to ask the story of that, but as soon as he opened his mouth you said something else: "But will you allow me to talk to him for a second? It's adult talk," you joked, trying to tease your little friend, and then walked a few steps away, taking Spencer with you. "Do you want to explain to me how you became a chess master during my three-day absence?"

"I don't... I don't know what you're talking about"

"I saw that! You beat him so fast and Matt is very good. Have you been letting me win all this time?” you asked with a frown. You didn't sound annoyed with him, but rather surprised, and when he pursed his lips and looked at you with those sad little eyes, you knew you were right “You were lying to me! Why did you do that?”

"I didn’t want to make you feel bad"

“I'm an adult, I can handle failure” you argued. A lie, but he didn't have to know that.

“It's just that you… you looked so happy winning and I was happy to spend time with you and I figured if I played like that you'd start to get bored or think I'm a show-off. You didn't want to make a bad impression."

He had been cheating on you, yes, but now that he had explained his reasons, you thought they were really cute. Although you didn't like being treated with that kind of condescension, it would honestly have been foolish to bother you about something like that. They were just friendly games of chess, not a world championship.

"So all this time you were this clever?" you asked and he nodded sheepishly “And you still managed to lose?”

“It's easy once you get the hang of it. If you know all the possible outcomes then you also know where you shouldn't move your pieces."

"I must have looked so stupid all this time"

"No, it's not like that" he hastened to say, while one of his hands went up to your elbow and gently held it "I didn't behave like that because I think you're stupid. I think you're very smart, actually."

"So you were just pretending so we could see each other in the evenings?"

No one had ever done that for you and now you weren't even offended by it anymore, you were, how shall I put it? Touched, perhaps.

"I thought if we didn't play chess there would be no other excuse for it"

A giggle escaped your lips and although at first he thought you were mocking, the truth was the opposite.

 “You don't need to do that for us to be together, I could come to the park and just talk to you. I already told you, I like being with you” you clarified.

You two were silent for a moment and although you were calm Spencer was fiddling with his hands, apparently uncomfortable.

"There's also something else I didn't tell you" you widened your eyes slightly, waiting for him to continue "Actually, I do work for the government, but I work for the FBI in the behavioral analysis unit, that's why sometimes I disappear for so many days or…"

"That's why you know so much murder data" you hastened to say. Suddenly everything clicked together, like pieces in a puzzle "You're not a murderer, you catch murderers!”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want to scare you."

"Oh, and it was more convenient to let me think you're a psycho," you said sarcastically and only received another amused and sorry look "Any other secrets you want to share with me, Agent Reid?"

“At the moment I only have that. But the afternoon is young, more things can come up with the passing of the hours”

You both laughed at the joke and Matthew's voice calling you snapped you out of your conversation. The teen demanded an explanation as to why his playmate and former babysitter seemed so trusting of each other, which Spencer probably hadn't explained to him yet.

"I just want to ask you one thing"

"And what is?"

“Play a real game with me. No cheating, no tricks"

"Rematch?" he said, as was already your tradition, and you smiled widely.

You walked back to the table taking his arm and after summarizing a few months of history to Matthew the two of you finally got to play. Spencer beat you in less than 5 minutes, but the satisfaction you felt finding out that he was so smart, as well as handsome, was completely worth your loss.

You only managed to beat him after half a year, because from that moment on Spencer was so distracted by your face that it was hard for him to concentrate on the plays. And when you became his girlfriend, all you had to do was steal a few kisses from him to ensure your victory, which, honestly, didn't bother him in the least.

[abyssruler]

archons ft. reincarnation

venti, zhongli, raiden ei x gn!reader

summary: you were dead—until you appeared again hundreds of years later, that same smile on your lips that made them fall for you centuries ago.

word count: 4.6k

note: first time posting my work on tumblr!

warning/s: spoilers for venti’s story quest and raiden shogun’s story quest act i & ii, angst, brief descriptions of past character death (reader)

part 2

VENTI

Venti’s fingers glide through the strings of his lyre, the perpetually gloomy weather exacerbating the melancholic undertone of his song.

“The outside world…” you muse, sitting beside your bard of a friend, watching the towering castle in the distance where your possessive god resides. “I wonder what it’s like.”

Small, melodic bells chime from your shoulder. You turn your head in order to face the wind spirit you call a friend. His little face is scrunched up, as if he’s regaling you tales of the scenery beyond Mondstadt. You don’t understand him, none of you do, but you indulge him with a smile anyway.

“Mhm. Oh, is that so? Yeah, I think so too. That seems lovely!” He bobs his head in agreement with your words, and you laugh at the adorable sight. You return your gaze to the castle by the distance, a wistful look in your eyes. “I’d like to see it one day. I bet the sky is so blue and the lands stretch on for miles and miles until you lose sight of the other end. The weather would be warmer too, because the sun would always be out.”

The little wind sprite lets out a tinkling sound. You don’t know what he’s trying to tell you, but you pretend that you do.

“Yeah. I wonder if the grass is greener outside of Mondstadt. It must be. There wouldn’t be constant rain over there so the plants won’t always be so damp and mushy. The sky must be full of birds, all of them just flying freely without a care in the world.”

Your bard of a friend listens quietly to your musings, now playing a softer song with his lyre. In contrast, your little spirit friend circles around your head, chiming something and pointing to the castle in the distance with his little hood.

For once, you think you understand what he’s trying to say. “Lord Decarabian, huh?” Something in you brews uncomfortably as you mention your god, so you try to lighten the atmosphere, “I don’t think he’ll agree even if we ask very nicely.”

Your little friend lets out a series of bell chimes that somehow lets you know what he thinks about your little joke. It’s only when Venti suddenly stops playing his lyre that the wind spirit quiets down.

You turn to him questioningly, finding him already looking at you with those blue eyes of his, always so bright despite being born in a perpetually gloomy city. There’s a contemplative frown on his face as he moves his gaze from you, to your little friend, to the castle in the center of the city.

Finally, he opens his mouth.

“Then let’s not ask,” he says, his eyes fixed on the looming castle. “He keeps his people in this city and forces us to call it freedom, but what is freedom if demanded of you by a god?”

“Venti…” you say in warning. Somehow, you get the feeling you’re not going to like what he’s about to say.

Somehow, you get the feeling you’re going to agree anyway.

He smiles at you and the wind sprite you call a friend, bright and optimistic. “I want to see the outside world too, so let’s fight to see it. Together.”

“Together,” you repeat, looking at him and your little friend. “A bard, a warrior, and a wind sprite. Sounds like the beginning of a long tale.” You gaze at the castle in the distance once more. “I wonder how it will end.”

Venti laughs. “It’ll be a happy ending. I’ll make sure of it.”

Bell chimes ring in the air as the small wind sprite circles the air in front of you, exclaiming his agreement to Venti’s words.

A thought occurs to you.

“Well, a tale isn’t complete if one of the main characters is nameless,” you say, offering your palm for him to rest in. Your little friend hops into it, sighing little happy bells.

A name. What name would suit him, you wonder. Looking up at the sky above, nothing sparks any inspiration. There’s only dark clouds holding the threat of rain. If you look closely enough, you think you can peek through those clouds and see something resembling the blue sky of the world outside. Wishful thinking, of course, the clouds in Mondstadt are thick enough to cover miles in the sky.

But if you squint an eye and tilt your head to the left, you think you can see a hint of a silhouette, something floating far above—

Then you avert your gaze back to your friend resting in the palm of your hands. A gust of wind blows past you. Maybe it’s premonition, or maybe you just wanted the best for him, but in that moment, you imagine that out of the three of you, it is this little spirit in your hands who will achieve the greatest of things.

A name pops up in your mind and begins to take root. “What do you think of the name Barbatos?”

He immediately zips up, twirling in the air in front of you and nuzzling your cheek affectionately. And just like that, the moment is broken, and he is back to being just your little friend.

“You like it, huh?” His answer comes in the form of a series of tinkling bells. You smile. “It’s a pretty name, isn’t it?”

✧

Two thousand and six hundred years later, the wind spirit turned archon stands on a raised platform, a lyre in hand and performing a song he hasn’t sung in five hundred years.

A bell chimes, signifying an entry to the door of the tavern, such an innocuous sound for the impending tragedy he is about to relive.

The last chord is strung. The crowd claps, disperses and thins. A lone figure makes their way to the front.

Someone clears their throat.

He looks up.

And suddenly he is back to that day millennia ago, just a little wind sprite tinkling bells in the palm of your hand. An apple for breakfast, lunch and dinner, your teasing remarks about how he isn’t going to be able to fly anymore if he keeps gaining weight. The song of the friend he embodies resonating with his soul.

How simple life had been, back when dreams of revolution and gods were just that: dreams.

Hushed talks of freedom between each round of song, the wistful look on your face as you mused how vast the outside world must be. Full of plains and lush grass, you imagined. And when Barbatos left the ruins of Old Mondstadt, one third of a whole, he made your dreams come true as he flattened mountains and brought warm winds to fend away the cold.

He only wished all three of you had been there to see it, instead of just him alone.

“What a lovely song! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you perform here in Angel’s Share before. What’s your name?” You smile at him, all soft and lovely with a hint of nostalgia in the corner of your eyes. As beautiful as the day he lost you.

He never realized how much he’d started to forget what you looked like until you appeared right in front of him, a ghost from two thousand years past.

Do you remember him? Do you miss him as much as he’s missed you? Will you forgive him for not letting go of the past, for taking on the appearance of your beloved friend? Have you been well? Do you have many friends? Any family?

Is there someone you hold dear to your heart already, someone who holds you close, who would never let you fight alone. Someone who won’t kneel helplessly as you died in their arms, smiling amidst the numbing pain from the gaping wound in your chest. Have you already found someone who will protect and care for you, because if not, then—

In this life, will you finally love him the way he loves you?

What’s your name?

His name, the name you gave him, is on the tip of his tongue. Barbatos, it’s a pretty name, isn’t it? And he was never able to tell you how much he agreed with you, how much he loved the name you gave him. He wants to tell you how he’s made Barbatos more than just a little wind spirit, wants to ask if you’re proud of him for achieving the freedom you once sought for—but most of all, he wants to tell you how much he loves you for giving him his name, his identity.

When the drinks become too much and his mind muddles the distinction between himself and his friend—is he Venti, or is it someone else?—he tries to remember you and the way his name rolled off your tongue. Barbatos. On his worst days, when everything becomes too much, when he tries to remember the way your voice sounded only to realize that he’s starting to forget, he says it to himself.

Barbatos.

Barbatos.

Barbatos.

It’s a pretty name, isn’t it?

And he smiles to himself and says yes out loud, and the other patrons will think he’s had too much to drink again, and he’ll shrug off their judging gazes and ignore the bartender’s disapproving look because finally, he remembers what you once sounded like as you spoke his name.

He wants to tell you how much you’ve done for him, even if you weren’t here with him.

But he bites back his tongue and puts on a well practiced smile, ignoring the twinge in his heart at the lack of recognition in your eyes.

“The name’s—” Barbatos “—Venti! And who might you be, oh beautiful stranger?”

The sound of your laughter soothes two thousand and six hundred years worth of pain within the span of a few seconds. He keeps the memory of it locked in his chest. It is ridiculous, the ease with which you burrow yourself back into his heart with just a laugh—though in hindsight, perhaps it isn’t so ridiculous after all. You never really left his heart even after thousands of years.

As your name falls from your lips, Venti decides it’s alright if you don’t remember him, that it’s alright if the name you call him now isn’t the name you gave him long ago.

Just being able to see you again is enough.

ZHONGLI

“I am thinking of retiring.”

You lean your elbows on the wooden railings, resting your face in the palm of your hands as you looked up at him. “Retiring? I don’t think Hu Tao would approve.”

“No, no,” he clarifies, “Not in Wangsheng Funeral. I have…another job that I wish to retire from.”

“You have two jobs, Zhongli? Never would have guessed with how relaxed you always are.” He cracks a faint smile at that.

“My other job is not very demanding of my time. Nevertheless, it holds an important role in Liyue.” The wind blows against him, his hair billowing in the breeze as he stood above the harbor. Somehow, you imagine him in white, a hood pulled over his head and a spear in his hand as he gazed down an imaginary foe in the sea.

The image leaves a strange feeling in you, so you quickly shake it away from your thoughts and focus on his earlier words.

“Are you some kind of big shot? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?! Here I was talking to you so casually—” Your eyes widen in realization. “Ah! You were undercover this whole time, weren’t you? Are you gonna report me to the Tianquan for disrespect—” You’re interrupted by the sound of Zhongli’s soft laughter.

He gazes at you with such soft amber eyes you’re almost half-inclined to believe it’s the sun playing tricks on you.

How mesmerizing. How familiar. You think you’ve seen this sight before, you just can’t put a finger when.

“My work is not that kind of work. It is…complicated, to say the least. You need not worry about any perceived disrespect, I don’t mind at all.”

Your shoulders slump in relief. “Oh, thank Rex Lapis. I thought I was about to face the wrath of the rock or something.”

He stills, hands clenching against the railings for the briefest of moments before relaxing. It goes unnoticed by you. “Wrath of the rock… I don’t believe I have spoken such words in your presence before.”

“Really?” You turn to him with furrowed brows. Now that you think about it, you don’t think he’s ever said that phrase before. How strange, where did it come from then? “Must’ve been something I read somewhere. You talk like an old man so much, Zhongli, I’m starting to confuse words from old books with your ramblings.”

Looking away, he stares past the railings and into the harbor below, something almost melancholic in his eyes. “Perhaps.”

“So,” you say to distract him from whatever caused that look to form in his eyes, “Are you really retiring?”

He looks at you, still with those sad, sad eyes that makes something in you churn uncomfortably. So you place a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the way his eyes widen at the gesture, and you give him the brightest smile you can muster.

“Well, whatever you choose to do, I’ll support you all the way!” And maybe your words got through to him, or maybe he saw something in your smile, but Zhongli chuckles, deep and rumbling. You once said it sounded like a dragon’s, and his face twisted into something you couldn’t quite read.

“Ever the optimist,” he tells you, fondness replacing that melancholic look in his eyes. “It is one of the many aspects that I admire about you.”

Your face heats up. Looking away from that affectionate look, you attempt to make light of his words. “H-Ha! Don’t go falling for me now, Zhongli. I’ll break your heart if you do!”

(You already have, Zhongli thinks, his heart beating a painful yet nostalgic tune in his chest.)

He waves your words away.

“Of course, such is to be expected of you,” he says idly, almost cryptically. You’re tempted to ask what that means, but he has the frustrating habit of pretending to be oblivious when he doesn’t want to answer a question, even though you can totally see through the act.

“Now back to the original topic!” You’re back to leaning your arms against the railings. Zhongli follows your actions by resting his gloved hands on the polished wood. “So, retirement, huh?”

He hums. “I was uncertain this morning, but our conversation has been quite enlightening. I have you to thank for solidifying my decision.” You watch him look over Liyue’s harbor, at the people down by the docks all working together like pieces in a cog. There’s something like pride in Zhongli’s eyes as he stares at the people. “Liyue is in good hands, is it not?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right. Lady Nigguang’s a real scary one, but she’s the best at her job. The Yuheng can afford to take a break now and then, but Keqing’s great at whatever she puts her mind in. Captain Beidou’s not exactly a government official, but she’s a known figure of the people, and she’s got a real good head on her shoulders—not to mention, real fun to hang out with!” You snicker at the memory of getting into a drinking contest with her. You lost, obviously, but the experience was worth it.

It’s then that you realize you haven’t mentioned the most important person in all of Liyue.

“And Rex Lapis…” Zhongli seems to straighten at the mention of your archon. “He only comes down to Liyue once a year now in the past few centuries. Well, that’s to be expected since Liyue’s at peace now. I guess even gods need to rest every now and then.”

(Something in his chest twists at your words.)

“Yes, they do, don’t they?” he agrees, his voice solemn.

You nod. “He’s probably over in Celestia partying with the other gods. You think he’s shacking it up with his partner up there? Heh, at least one of us is getting some.”

The reaction you receive is unexpected, but pleasantly surprising nonetheless.

Zhongli lets out a full blown laugh, head tilted back and shoulders shaking, eyes closed with mirth. You stare with your jaw open, unable to take your eyes off him even as his laughter begins to die down. It looks just like—

A man in white robes, veins of gold running down his arms as he held his stomach. His head tilted back, the ground shaking with the force of his laughter, his hood falling down to reveal familiar amber eyes gazing at you with mirth, fondness lurking beneath his smile—

“Ah, I truly have missed this.” Missed you, he doesn’t say, but you hear it all the same.

You decide that critical thinking really isn’t for you, so you brush away the strange not-memory and the feelings that rise up when he looks at you like that.

Teasingly, you grin at him. “Aw, Zhongli, it was only a week yet you missed me that much? Don’t worry, I missed you too.”

The quirk in his lips seems to tell you that he expected such an answer from you.

He then turns his head up, gazing into the mid-afternoon sky, your teasing forgotten.

“Once I retire, allow me to invite you for an afternoon of drinking osmanthus wine. I recently discovered a merchant selling top quality wine, and once i acquired a taste, it truly was—as per the merchant’s words—as if you have been taken back to a thousand years ago.”

There’s a quip waiting to to be said at the tip of your tongue, a joke at how he’s secretly been an old grandpa this entire time, but you swallow back the urge to let out the lighthearted joke.

There’s a fragility to this moment that you can’t quite put a finger on, so you hold back your usual retort and mull over your decision.

“I’d like that,” you say after a few heartbeats.

Zhongli smiles, and this time it’s less delicate, more sure of himself.

“I look forward to it.”

✧

You nearly barf once the liquid enters your mouth. All those drinking contests with Beidou has made your stomach weak. But the sight of Zhongli serenely sipping his own osmanthus wine reminds you to have enough tact not to mention how bad it tastes for you.

To delay your second sip, you decide to ask, “How is it?”

Zhongli places his cup down, the procelain making a soft noise as it meets the saucer. He then looks up, sees you holding your own cup of osmanthus wine and trying not to look constipated at the taste, and he smiles at the familiar sight.

“It tastes the same as I remember.”

EI

“Oh my, Your Eternal Excellency! It’s an honor to have your most exalted presence in the Yae Publishing House!”

Her entire world stops, suspended in a haze, narrowing down to this little booth in a random street in the city of Inazuma. Time stretches on for eternity, while the god chasing it is stuck staring at the sight of a familiar, beautiful, ephemeral mirage.

There’s a friendly smile on your lips, not a hint of nervousness at being in the presence of a god such as herself. You’ve always been so fearless. Brave and courageous and stupid and self-sacrificing. Ei loved and hated that attribute of yours, back when she was still capable of loving someone without ruining them.

“Ei? Are you alright?”

For a moment, she lets herself believe it was your voice that spoke those words to her. Soft, soothing tones that once lulled her to rest after a day of training non-stop to improve her martial skills, back when a kagemusha like her was still granted the luxury of rest.

Sleep, Ei. Even gods need some shut eye.

But this is one of the many flaws of ephemerality—the moment for engaging in selfish delusions ends far too soon.

It takes all of her willpower to tear her gaze from you in order to face the Traveler.

“Yes, just a little surprised.” Years and years of experience has taught her to control her voice. It will not waver, not even in the presence of her once-dead lover.

“You sure? You kinda spaced out for a while back there,” the floating pixie who calls herself Paimon remarks.

“Yes, I am quite fine,” she says.

Although, is she truly? Perhaps not, but five hundred years of solitude has hardened her. Had this been before, perhaps she would have wept upon seeing you again, alive and whole and not painting the grass with a pool of your own blood.

Ei directs her attention to the Traveler. “Now, what were you saying about those light novels?”

For the rest of her time in the Yae Publishing House, she spends it dutifully avoiding your curious gaze. Even going so far as to wait by the railings as the Traveler picked a light novel for her to read.

She heard you speak to the Traveler once, making a suggestion regarding the selection.

“I think she’ll like this one!”

You were right, she did like it.

✧

Ei tries not to, but every time she ventures out of Tenshukaku to see more of her people, she passes by the Yae Publishing House that you, more often than not, watch over.

✧

The leylines near the roots of the Sacred Sakura Tree are being strange.

Walking with the Traveler after the disappearance of Furuyama, the blind tea-brewer, is solemn. The path they’re traversing in is painfully familiar. She tries not to remember what the scenery would have looked like five hundred years ago.

A twig snaps. She and the Traveler whirl at the direction of the noise—

And Ei is once again faced with the ghost of her past.

“Ei, is it really you?”

She has seen you in this era, wearing a kind smile and modern clothes. Always so welcoming despite the strangeness of the Raiden Shogun visiting a light novel store every other week. No, your appearance is not what makes her stumble, makes her breathless and teary-eyed as she closes the remaining distance between you.

It is the way you are looking at her. Because finally, finally there is recognition in your eyes.

You are solid beneath her touch, not an apparition, not a mirage. Your armor digs into her skin as she embraces you, her heart the lightest it’s been in five hundred years.

You’re sweaty and dirty and a little bit bloody, but Ei has seen you in the worst state possible. Dirtying her immaculate clothing is a small price to pay for this brief moment.

The Traveler watches with wide eyes, reconciling the image of the warrior in worn, outdated armor with the kind, cheerful editor of the Yae Publishing House.

“I was starting to lose hope,” you tell her, voice low with a quiet sort of relief. The smile she receives makes her feel young again, a kagemusha who fell in love with one of her sister’s retainers. “Now that you’re here, I’m sure everything will be alright.”

The future you speak of is nonexistent. The moment you died—her last hope, the only remaining light in her life after the death of her sister and companions—everything became a far cry from alright.

But Ei will tell you none of this. Your current self is safe in Inazuma City, living in the future she created with her own hands. But you of the past, the one she loved dearly, you know nothing of this future, of what will happen—had happened—to you, and she will keep it that way.

Perhaps this is just her way of attempting to alleviate her guilt upon your death, but she wants this ghost of you to move on with the knowledge that everything will be fine, even if all of it is a lie.

This time, it is her that prompts you to rest your head on her lap, stroking your hair and watching you be lulled to sleep.

“Rest now. I will handle the rest.”

Your eyes flutter closed for the final time, taking her hand in yours. You leave her with parting words that will resonate deep within her soul for the rest of eternity.

“You don’t have to do everything alone, Ei.”

✧

One would think that after battling herself for five hundred years, her first words to her dear friend would be to ask how Inazuma is, but perhaps five hundred years has made her a bit more selfish. So instead, she asks about you.

“How is…?” Ei doesn’t need to mention your name for Yae to know who she’s referring to.

“Oh, still delightful as ever, that one. Asks about you often, though. Far too often, in my opinion. Why, if I didn’t know any better I’d have thought I was only being approached so I can be the relayer of any news relating to you.” Yae shakes her head fondly. “Even without memories of your time together, that little one is still so smitten with you.”

Ei’s cheeks turns a light shade of pink. At the sound of Yae’s snicker, she turns a frown at the devious kitsune.

“Miko…”

“Oh, come now. Can’t a girl have a little bit of fun? Although, none of what I said was untrue.” Yae’s tone softens just the slightest bit, knowing the delicacy of anything regarding you. After a moment though, a sly smile makes its way to her lips. “If you have any tips on how to woo someone, be sure to tell me, Ei. Authors these days just have no imagination for romance, always so dry and boring.”

It’s a simple teasing remark, one of many that Yae is prone to saying. Ei shouldn’t respond to it, but she can’t help but say the first word that comes to her mind.

“Gifts.”

✧

“Your Eternal Excellency!”

The genuine surprise in your face leaves her amused. You quickly attempt to fix your messy hair and rumpled clothes. Had it been anyone else, she would have thought them lazy for being so unkempt, but you manage to make even the smallest of things endearing.

She supposes some things stay the same, even in a new life and a new era.

“I came to bring you a gift,” she says, holding out the Raiden Shogun statue that was sent to the Tenshukaku that morning.

You stare at the object with wide eyes, like you’re unable to believe that your archon is giving you an actual gift instead of the other way around.

When she set out in search of you that afternoon, she thought giving you something would be a good gesture. Although, in hindsight, gifting you a statue of herself may come off as conceited of her. Ah, she really should ask someone for advice before she approaches you next time.

Before she can apologize and return the statue, you’re already taking it from her hands, a look of wonder crossing your face as you inspected it.

“This was sold out hours ago! I was planning on buying one but I got there too late!” Casual. You speak so casually, as if the person you’re speaking to isn’t the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, God of Thunder.

As if the person you’re speaking to is simply her, Ei. Not the Raiden Shogun. Not the Electro Archon. Just Ei.

You give her your best smile. “Thank you.”

Can a person still be the same person even without their memories?

Ei doesn’t know, but perhaps she’ll find out soon.

part 2

[harry-on-broadway]

My Valentine

Word Count: 4.6K || Rating: M

A/N: This is technically a continuation of My Rock Star but you don’t have to have read that to enjoy this one. I’m hoping this has something for everyone in it. Would love to hear your feedback! 

*** Being with Harry came with a laundry list of perks.

Access to an incredible closet, the chance to travel the world whenever you wanted, sex with an unbelievably attractive man.

But there were also some downsides.

Like being his caretaker when he celebrated a little too hard.

As usual, you’d taken your time getting ready, knowing you wouldn’t see him until the after party, and you could already tell he’d be in rare form based on the antics you’d seen on the telecast. You were pretty confident he’d already had a drink or two by the time he walked up to the stage to receive his first award, just by how loose he was. You knew the alcohol hadn’t stopped flowing when he started throwing himself at anyone who was near. And you were surprised he was still standing when Tom had to gently guide him across the stage after the last award of the evening.

When you arrived at the restaurant that was hosting the first after party, you had prepared yourself to be attacked by Harry, but were surprised to come across Gemma instead.

“Do you have eyes on him?” you asked.

“Yeah, he’s over there.” She gestured to a table in the back where Harry had one arm around Jeffrey and was using his other hand to gesture animatedly as he told a story. “I thought he had sobered up a little while he was doing interviews after but that apparently isn’t the case,” she added as Harry wobbled, nearly losing his footing until Jeffrey caught him. “Looks like I got the easy shift tonight. I don’t envy your evening.”

“Oh dear,” you said under your breath. “None for me,” you said, to the waiter who asked for your drink order. One of you had to have a level head.

“There’s my girlfriend,” Harry yelled, causing Jeff to cover his ears.

“Here I am!” You walked over to him and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“He’s all yours,” Jeff laughed, patting you on the back as Harry clung onto you, whispering in your ear.

“...and then he gave me the award and we hugged again and then – “

“H, baby, why don’t we sit down,” you suggested, unsure of your ability to support his entire body weight for much longer.

“Oh, yeah.” He righted himself and found a seat at the table, walking on unsteady legs with you close behind.

The booth you found yourselves sitting in was cozy, especially as Tyler, Tom, and Jenny, slid in next to you. Harry, not wantign to be left out, all but laid on top of you trying to not only steal a cuddle, but insert himself into the conversation that was happening to your right. You exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Gemma as you gently pushed Harry back to his seat. She laughed over the rim of her glass and rolled her eyes, quite familiar with her brother’s antics.

“Maybe we can sneak away and have another round of celebrations like we did last week?” Harry whispered to you, his breath hot against your ear as the waiter deposited entrees in front of everyone. “Make you scream my name.”

“As enticing as that offer sounds, I’m going to pass,” you said quietly, twirling pasta around your fork.

Harry pouted. “Why not?”

“Eat,” you told Harry, pointing at the plate of fettucini in front of him. “You need to get something in your stomach. Drink some water too,” you prodded, pushing his glass closer to him. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“I feel fiiiiinnnneee,” Harry retorted, stretching out the last word.

“I’ve got to be honest with you, those do not sound like the words of someone who is fine.”

“What does that mean?” He stared at you blankly.

“Babe, just eat.”

Harry finally relented, tucking into his meal, though he kept his arm around you the entire time. As annoying and petulant as he could be when he was drunk, you had to admit his clinginess was endearing, even if meant many promises he couldn’t deliver on.

The pasta sobered him up enough to rally for the next stop on the party tour, and you dutifully followed him into the back seat of the car waiting outside. He was chatty and exuberant, laughing with Tom and Jenny who were sharing the vehicle with you, ice cubes clinking in his glass of neat tequila. At the club, he made his way around the room, altenrating between dancing with some friends and chatting with others.

You kept to the outskirts of the room, introducing yourself to the few unfamiliar faces you spotted while reconnecting with members of Harry’s team you hadn’t seen recently. All the while you kept your eyes on him, ready to intervene when he’d finally had enough. The afterparties were fun, no question about it, but standing there, sipping your own non-alcoholic beverage, you felt a nagging sensation in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t place, and as Harry found his way back to you, pulling you to the dance floor, you did your best to push it out of your mind.

By 4am, most people had started to head out and you set off in search of Harry, finding him zoned out on a couch, leaning against Jeff, who looked equally out of it.

“H, I think it’s time to head out,” you said, reaching for his hands.

He grinned lazily. “Yeah it is.” He turned to Jeff. “We’re going to –”

“OK, I don’t think we need to talk about that,” you said, heading off any embarrassing comment he was about to make. “The car’s out front babe.” You tried to pull him up, but he was dead weight, far to heavy for you to drag. “I need you to stand up, baby.” After a little more prompting, Harry stood, swaying with each step he took. Seeing how unsteady he was, you felt less confident in your ability to get him home without incident.

“Would you like some help?” A member of Harry’s security team was in front of you, looking from you to the drunken man at your side.

“That would actually be great,” you said, sighing in relief.

“Make sure the car’s out front and I’ll get him there.”

You nodded and ran off, and ten minutes later you and Harry were alone in the backseat, making your way home.

“Could make you feel really good right now,” Harry slurred.

“I’m know you could, but we just need to get you in bed.”

Harry smirked, clearly misunderstanding the meaning of your words. “I seeeeeee,” he giggled.

When you arrived home, you nudged him up the stairs, keeping him upright and facing forward as he slowly planted one foot in front of the other, swaying back and forth as he climbed higher.

“I think I’m ready for bed,” he announced, pulling off his jacket and dropping it in the all. He stared at it, an intense look of concentration on his face as if he couldn’t figure out how it gotten there. “Is that my jacket?”

“It is. We’re getting ready for bed and we’re going to go in here,” you said, steering him towards the bedroom. “Right in here.”

You darted back into the hall to pick up his discarded jacket and when you returned, you found him face down on the bed. “Fuck,” you said under your breath. He couldn’t make this easy for you. You rolled him over, unbucking his pants and pulling them down his leg. You untangled his necklaces, placing them on his bedside table before dragging him up the bed and tucking him under the covers.

After making sure he was asleep, you got yourself ready for bed, changing into your pajamas, before brushing your teeth and washing your face and climbing into bed next to him.

Lying in bed beside him, watching his chest rise and fall slowly, you felt a wave of affection wash over you. He was yours. This silly, drunk, annoying man was yours and you wouldn’t have it any other way. A snore escaped from his mouth and you smiled. You were going to miss him over the next couple of months. You reached up to brush his hair off his forehead, wrapping his curl around your finger as that bittersweet feeling returned. .

You’d gotten lucky through the summer and fall, with your remote job affording you the opportunity to travel with him, but you’d be needed in office when he was in Australia and Asia. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit worried about the distance, something you’d discussed with Harry, and the two of you had planned to spend these last couple of days focused on each other. But with the Grammys and now the Brits, time for just you two had been scarce. And tomorrow – or rather today – would be a waste  with Harry sure to have the hangover of the century. But you’d take moments like this as long as they were with him.

You wiggled down under the comforter, momentarily freezing as Harry stirred. Once he’d settled, sleeping on his other side, you slid closer to him, hooking your leg over his, wrapping your arm around his chest, and holding him as close as you could.

***

You woke up much sooner than you would have liked, but your empty stomach was more powerful than your need to sleep. Harry was still out cold next to you, and after watching him sleep for a couple more moments, you slid out from under the covers and padded down to the kitchen.

You put on some coffee for yourself, confident that Harry wouldn’t be up for several hours, and found the ingredients for an omelet in the fridge. When you’d finished eating and cleaning up, you sat at the table, coffee in hand, plotting your next move. You definitely had things to do. You needed to do laundry and start packing for your flight in a couple of days, and you should probably figure out what you all were going to do for dinner, but you knew deep down that the only thing you wanted to do right now was be with Harry – even if he was still passed out, completely unaware of your presence. So you poured yourself a second cup of coffee, grabbed your laptop and a book, and made your way back upstairs.

You gingerly peeled back the covers on your side of the bed, careful not to disturb him, and got comfortable. You popped your AirPods in and waited for them to connect before pressing play on an episode of Real Housewives on your laptop.

After 4 episodes and 50 pages in your book, you heard an extremely loud snore come from Harry, a snore so loud that he jolted himself awake. He squinted up at you, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the room.

“Morning, sunshine,” you said, moving your laptop off of your legs.

“Stop shaking the bed,” he mumbled.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Someone’s in a good mood this afternoon,” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“It’s not my fault my head is killing me.” Harry rolled onto his back, flinching as he moved the bed again. “Fuck.”

“Here, take these.” You handed him a couple of Tylenol and a bottle of water watching as he slowly sat up and took the pills, nearly downing the entire bottle of water in one gulp. “Do you want some more?”

“No.” He stared down at the comforter, still adjusting to the afternoon light drifting in from the curtains. “What time is it?”

You looked at your phone. “A little after three.”

“Shit. What time did we leave last night?”

“A little after four.”

“Fuck.”

“I know. So much for just one drink.” He attempted to roll his eyes, but thought twice, cringing at the movement. “You okay?” you asked. As much as you’d love to continue teasing him you could tell he was hurting.

“Yeah, I just need to take it slow.”

“You should probably eat something. What do you want?”

“No clue.”

You sighed, knowing that hungover Harry was going to be worse than drunk Harry. “Why don’t you think about it and I’ll get you some more water.”

He grunted affirmatively and you eased off the bed. In the kitchen, you set about filling up his water bottle and making him some tea. You grabbed a banana as well, before scooping up the beverages, balancing them precariously as you made your way back upstairs.

The lights had been turned on in your absence, albeit on the dimmest setting, and he’d turned on the TV as well, some sports game playing at a low volume. Harry was leaning against the headboard, wrapped in a hoodie. He perked up when he saw you in the doorway.

“Feeling better?” you asked, placing the beverages and fruit on his nightstand.

He nodded. “A little.”

“That’s good.” You kissed his hair. He still smelled like the club from last night. “Maybe you should rinse off later?”

He laughed lightly. “Trying to tell me something.”

“It might make you feel better.”

“No, you just think I stink,” he said, taking a bite of the banana.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “I was thinking I could fix us some pasta in a little bit. If you’re feeling up to it.”

“Pasta sounds good.” You pressed another kiss to his head and climbed into bed next to him.  He threw his arm around your shoulders, a practiced and comfortable gesture, and you curled up against his side. “How bad was I last night?” he asked.

“How much do you remember?”

“Not a lot after the restaurant.”

“Well, you had a couple of drinks…”

“Feels like more than a couple…” he groaned

“I rounded down. You did some dancing, introduced yourself to everyone – and I mean everyone – in the room, gave a lot of hugs…”

“Did I kiss anyone else?”

“You tried to plant a couple on Jeff.”

“Just showing him how much I love him.”

“You also extended the romantic offer of a quickie in the bathroom to me,” you said dryly. “Several times.”  

“Hey! The last time I won something we fucked in the–”

“I remember, but I highly doubt you would have been able to manage that last night Mr. Only-The-One drink.”

Harry pinched your side and you squirmed in his arms. “You can’t judge me for wanting to spend time with my favorite person,” he said.

You threw your arm over his stomach and hugged him tight, closing your eyes, trying to remember everything about this moment. The feel of his hoodie against your fingers, the sound of his heartbeat, the weight of his arm on your shoulders. You wished there was some way to preserve this.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked, interrupting your reverie.

“I had breakfast and a snack.”

“Would you want to do the pasta soon? I can rinse off and meet you in the kitchen.”

“Yeah.”

Harry stretched before climbing out of bed and shedding his briefs and hoodie, making a half-hearted attempt to toss them into the hamper. When you heard the water turn on, you headed to the kitchen for the third time that day, pulling pasta, tomatoes, spices, and cheese from various cabinets, waiting for Harry to come down.

You’d started boiling the water when you felt him come up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, swaying back and forth. “Smells good,” he said against your hair.

“It’s just pasta,” you said, laughing. “I haven’t even started the good stuff yet.”

“Wasn’t talking about the food. I was talking about you.” He inhaled again. “Need to bottle this up so I can take you with me.” You bit your lip, willing yourself to hold back your emotions and not let them ruin this moment. “Alright.” Harry released you from his grasp. “What can I help with?”

“I was thinking of doing a pink sauce so if you want to start with that.”

“On it.” Harry rolled up his sleeves and got to work chopping onions and grating fresh parmesan, and the kitchen was filled with a savory aroma as he threw them into the pot. With the sauce simmering, Harry opened a bottle of wine, pouring both of you a glass. You raised an eyebrow at the large portion given his current state. “What?” he asked. “Hair of the dog, right?”

When dinner was ready, you all sat at the table, properly recapping the events of the previous night. You laughed at Harry’s recollection of the ceremony which was hazy at best, but seeing the award show through his lens was somehow even better than being there. You cleaned up together and migrated upstairs soon after, brushing teeth and collapsing into bed under the pretense of getting caught up on Love Island. Harry sidled up behind you, his body conforming to yours as you pressed play, and it was just ten minutes later when you heard his snores in your ear. You smiled, reaching for the remote, careful not to disturb him, turning off the TV shortly before sleep overtook you as well.

***

You had a weird feeling in your stomach when you woke up on the morning of the 14th, something you attributed to the fact that you’d be leaving Harry in less than 24 hours. Trying to stave off the anxiety that was quickly brewing, you decided a walk through the city and running errands was the cure. So, with Harry still in bed, you set out on your adventure.

You arrived back at the house later in the afternoon, letting yourself in and heading straight for your bedroom. If you packed everything up now, that would leave the rest of the evening free to spend with Harry without the looming knowledge of more chores on your to-do list.

When you got to the bedroom, you stopped short, unsure of what you were walking into. Candles were placed on every surface within sight, giving the room a romantic glow. Fresh flowers – roses from the looks of them – were placed around the room, which smelled of…vanilla?

“Welcome home,” Harry said. “And Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I thought we said no gifts!” was the first thing you could think to blurt out.

“It’s not a gift. It’s…ambiance,” Harry said. He studied your face, trying to get a read on what you were feeling. “Do you not like it?” he asked, flustered.

“No, I love it. I just feel bad that I didn’t do anything for you.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.” He stepped forward and grabbed your hands, giving them a squeeze. “The last 14 months have been about me. Touring, working on the album, premieres, award shows. And you’ve been beside me every step of the way. Supporting me, loving me. And I did this because, for once, I wanted to do something for you.”

You were speechless. No words could describe what this gesture meant to you. You supported Harry because you loved him, not because you needed grand declarations of love from him. But his insistence on treating you with an equal amount of respect and adoration only reiterated that you’d made the right decision when you first agreed to date him.

“Kiss me,” you managed to get out and Harry happily obliged, scooping you into his arms and kissing you squarely on your lips. His tongue pressed against the seam of your lips and quickly found yours. You panted heavily against his mouth, overwhelmed by the onslaught. You felt the kiss throughout your entire body from your lips to the tips of your toes. It was a like a current was running through you, a current that grew stronger as Harry’s arms moved down your body, grabbing your ass and pressing you against his stiff cock. You moaned at the sensation, all to aware of how empty you felt and how badly you wanted him.

“Can we?” you glanced at the bed and Harry nodded. You pushed him backwards until his legs hit the frame and he laid back, taking you with him. He kept kissing you as you settled on top of his thigh, rolling your hips desperately searching for the friction you needed. You felt Harry fumbling with the hem of your shirt and lifted your arms to aid him in pulling it off of you. Your bra was next, then Harry’s shirt, then you were skin to skin.

“You feel so soft,” Harry said, dazedly as he traced your spine. He kissed his way down your collarbone to your sternum before peppering kisses across your cleavage until his lips locked around your nipple. You were still grinding on his thigh and the combination of sensations was almost too much. Harry pulled his lips away with a satisfying pop, and when you felt his teeth scaping against the soft underside of your breast, sucking a kiss that you knew would leave a mark, you cried out as your orgasm overtook you.

You rested your head on his shoulder, hovering over his thigh as you tried to recover. Harry soothed you, stroking your back and hair, and when your breathing returned to normal, you locked eyes with him. “I need you,” you whispered.

Harry nodded, almost as if in a trance, and started to wiggle around underneath of you, pulling down his briefs and shorts and kicking them to the ground as you pulled off your own bottoms. Completely naked, with nothing between you, Harry eased back on the bed, resting his hands on your hips as you lined yourself up with him. Without hesitation, you sank down on his cock. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. Your body fit with his in a way you’d never before experienced. It was like he was made for you. You could tell he was already close to spilling over based on the way his jaw was set, and when you gave an experimental bounce to feel how intensely he stretched you, he clenched his jaw even harder.

“I’m ready,” you whispered, and Harry moved his hips, rocking up into you. You threw your head back in satisfaction as he grazed that spot deep inside of you. His grip on your hips tightened, his nails marking you further as you matched his rhythm. After a few thrusts he stopped, hands squeezing you as a signal for you to do the same. Confused, you looked down at him.  

“It’s okay,” he murmumed. “Just wanted to be a little closer. He leaned forward so he was sitting upright, embracing you in his lap, all while driving his cock deeper inside of you.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said as he continued to rock into you. “So beautiful, doing so good for me. So good to me all the time. Just want to make you feel good.” He was babbling, so painfully close to his own release but still putting your pleasure before his.

“It fee-feels incredible,” you managed to get out. You were almost there for the second time that night. On this next thrust, you took his face in your hands, kissing him as your orgasm washed over you. Seconds later, you felt him hot and wet inside you. Your fingers were tangled in the damp curls at the base of his neck, and you pulled his head back to look at you.

“Happy Valentine’s, baby,” he said. “I can’t believe I’m yours.”

***

The morning after was the most bittersweet you’d ever experienced. After spending the night wrapped around him, you didn’t want to let him go, but you reluctantly let him get ready for his flight.

“You should probably get ready too,” he said, eyes unwilling to meet yours, as if acknowledging you would accelerate your goodbye.

You pulled on leggings and a hoodie and sat on the edge of the bed. Watching him toss last minute items into his suitcase before zipping it up. “I just don’t want you to go,” you said, voice breaking. You covered your eyes, trying to hide your tears.

He was by your side in an instant. “I don’t want to leave either but it’s going to be over so soon. You’re going to kick ass on this project and I’ll play a couple of shows and things will be back to normal before we know it. And you’ll be coming with me this summer. It’s only a few weeks.” He squeezed your hand definitively. “We’ve got this.”

“I know.” You sniffled. “I just miss you already.”

“And I miss you too.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You know, I was going to do this later but…” He stood up and walked to his night stand, rifling through the drawer. He pulled out a small, wrapped, box and tossed it to you. You looked at him curiously.

“What’s this?” you asked, shaking the box.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you open it and see?”

You peeled back the corner of the paper, freeing the box. You turned it upright and opened it. Inside was a delicate sliver necklace with a chain so thin you’d have to squint to see it. It was a perfect match to the one Harry had started sporting over the holidays. Tears immediately filled your eyes.

“Just to make sure you don’t forget me.”

“I thought is was only a few weeks,” you chuckled.

“Can’t take any chances.” He sat beside you again, the mattress dipping under his weight. “But I’m serious. I know how hard being with me can be sometimes and I mean it when I say I’ll never take you for granted. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you said. “And I’m already counting down the days until I can see you again.”

***

talk to me! 

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Strawberries and Cream

I will be so real I made this title up while watching strawberry shortcake *Hyena laughing gif*

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x reader

Word count: 4.6k YEAH THATS RIGHT I ACTUALLY CHECKED THIS TIME

🔪remember to reblog🔪

Notes: You know the strawberry shortcake from the early 2000s? That’s MY GIRL. P.s I’m in the middle of writing this rn 1:47am 4/19/24 and imma be so real this fic is full on Christopher erasure I’m SORRY

Chapter 1: First Appearances

Eddie had never been a “bumbling idiot” when it came to women, or okay at least he hadn’t been in a long time. 

“Hi there! Can you help me?” 

And there goes that record.

It’s like you walked in on a cloud of sugared lavender and cotton candy and strawberries and anything else sweet he could think of. He whirled around, nearly knocking into you

“Oh shit- god no shit- no I shouldn’t say shit-“ He grabs your arms to steady you, and it’s like he’s holding an angel. You’re… soft? Yeah soft is the word he’s looking for. He’s taking way too long to talk like a normal person and he knows it. But god if that short pink dress isn’t doing things to him…. 

“What um- What can I help you with?” Eddie leans against the fire truck, crossing his arms over his chest, coming back down to earth. What a smooth recovery. 

“Well- I’m looking for Evan Buckley. He goes by Buck?” She looks up at him, her hands clasped behind her back sweetly.

Oh. 

Oh, she wanted Buck. 

Eddie deflates just the tiniest bit, okay a lot but he can’t let her know that “Oh yeah sure, I think he’s upstairs, come on” 

He leads the way, his hand flowing over the cool railing, trying to ground himself a little. Was it wrong he was hoping Buck fumbled this one? He wanted his best friend to find happiness- to know what that felt like…but like he could just wish that a teeny bit right?

“Hey, Buck? Someone’s here to see you” He says as he stands at the top of the stairs. You pop out from behind him, throwing your hands in the air. 

“Surprise!!!” You yell, doing a little spin 

“It’s me!!!”

Buck's mouth drops wide open, his fork falling from his hand as he gets up from the table so excitedly he knocks his chair back.

“Y/N?!? What are you doing here?!” He runs over, picking you up and spinning you around, you squeal, holding onto him tightly.

“Buck!! Put me down!! You’re gonna drop me!” You’re laughing, your head tilted back as he squeezes you to his chest

“Not, I’m never putting you down again” He buries his face in your neck, hugging you as tight as he can before he sets you on the floor. He holds your arms, shaking you like a ragdoll.

“It’s been years Y/N, does Maddie know you’re here???” 

You push away from him a bit, steadying yourself and putting your hand on your forehead.

“Can you rein it in for like five seconds” you giggle, looking up at him “I thought it was finally time to come see you! And no Maddie doesn’t know I’m here yet, I wanted to surprise you two! 

“Well, do you have a place to stay? Because you’re staying with me you can have the bed I’ll take the couch! We can have Maddie over too! Oh god I’m so glad-“

Bobby finally clears his throat, looking up from the salad in front of him. 

“Uh…Buck? You wanna maybe introduce your friend before you kill her with whiplash”

“Or from crushing her sternum,” Hen says, pouring a cup of coffee

“Oh shit, yeah! This is Y/N, my cousin!” He puts his hands on her shoulders pridefully, pushing her towards them. 

Eddie perks up at that, turning around and leaning against the counter… cousin? He stirs his coffee slowly

Bobby gets up and shakes her hand, patting her on the shoulder 

“It’s nice to meet you! Family of Bucks is a member of ours. Welcome to the 118”

They fawn over her, really that’s the only word Eddie can come up with. Chim compliments her “adorable” dress, Hen tells her she’s working those shoes, showing off that black girl magic. She’s a bit overwhelmed by the attention, giggling through her nerves as she talks to them. A wide smile on her face. 

Buck takes her hand eventually, yanking her over to Eddie 

“This is my best friend,” He says proudly, patting Eddie on the back. “Eddie Diaz!” 

Eddie melts when she looks up at him with those sweet eyes, he smirks, looking away for a second and biting his lip. It's subtle but Buck catches it, narrowing his eyes. 

“Yeah, we’ve met,” he says, looking back at you and shaking your hand “It’s nice to properly meet you Y/N” 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Eddie,” You say, a smile on your face, you bite your lip and Buck sees that too. He looks down at you, and then back up at Eddie.. and then right back down to you. His head goes up and down like a paddle ball and he whips out his phone, distractedly pushing you at Eddie.

“Ed do me a favor and keep her entertained for a minute. I need to call Maddie real quick I uh- I remembered something” 

“Don’t you dare tell her I’m here! I want to surprise her” you warn him and Buck struggles, his hands gesturing wildly. 

“Oh. Uhhh I’m sorry. I already texted her!” Chim interjects, shrugging awkwardly and you frown a little but shrug back “Oh okay! That’s fine” 

Buck shoots Chimney a thumbs up for covering for him and immediately calls Maddie, running down the stairs for privacy.

“So um…where are you from?” Eddie asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Admittedly he does it to make his chest look better, and God does it. Hen snickers but ignores him doing that and Chim makes faces behind your back at Eddie.

“Oh, I’ve been in Minnesota for a while! It’s nice there, pretty quiet. I’m maybe looking for a place around here now though… but don’t tell Buck or Maddie I don’t wanna get their hopes up.

“Buck would probably just make you move in with him,” Bobby comments over his salad.

“Hey! We have plenty of space” Chim adds “if you’re looking for something temporary. I'm sure Maddie wouldn’t even mind permanent if we were able to discuss it”

“Eddie has a spare room. If you were here temporarily at least, that would probably be your best bet at this point” Hen chimes in, looking at him. His cheeks heat up and he chokes a little on his coffee 

“I- I mean. I-“ he doesn’t even know what to say to that because god yes would he want that. Is that premature? That’s premature. Like so premature wanting to live with you……Anyway, a dog maybe? he knows exactly what old clothes he’d get rid of too to make space in his closet for you. Definitely a dog, gonna name him- 

“Okay, okay slow down you guys” You laugh lightly, interrupting his internal life planning. 

“I’m not moving in with anyone yet. It’s just a thought… and there’s no way in hell I’d feel comfortable imposing on Eddie like that. Family is one thing. A literal stranger? Yeah, I don’t know.” 

“It’s not an imposition!” Eddie is way too quick with that answer. He clears his throat 

“I- it wouldn’t be. That is if you need a place to crash. Besides I’m at work all day you know! It’s not like my place gets too much use…” 

“See! Problem solved!” Hen says happily and you roll your eyes at her, scrunching your nose and making a little face at her

“Oh ha-ha, very funny. I’m not moving in with Eddie” 

“You’re moving in with Eddie?!” Buck’s mouth is dropped wide open as he stands at the top of the stairs. 

“What?! No!” You tell him, your hands up in defense “I’m not moving in with anyone.”

“Good,” Buck says as he picks up his chair from earlier. “Because if you’re moving in with anyone it’s gonna be me.” 

“Told you” Bobby rolls his eyes. 

After he finishes his pad, Thai, Buck eagerly shows you around the firehouse, dragging you and Eddie around like a kid in a candy shop. He just has so much he wants to show you, and he wants Eddie there “for backup” in case he misses anything. He proudly shows off his locker and you giggle, he’s incredibly cute sometimes. He shows off Eddie’s locker too, to which Eddie rolls his eyes and shuts the door, giving him a shove. 

“Trust me when I say I saved the best for last.”He climbs up into the truck, reaching out for you. “Eddie help her?” He requests, taking your hands in his. Eddie shrugs, putting his hands firmly on your hips as you step up into the truck, he gives you a little lift and push and you’re in. Buck winks at you and you roll your eyes as Eddie climbs in behind the two of you. 

“Isn’t this cool?!” He practically yells “Cool” and you’re looking around like a little owl, your eyes wide, head swiveling. It’s a lot to take in but it’s cool, he’s right.

“Uh, yeah!!!” You agree, touching everything in sight. Eddie sits on one of the seats and watches you walk around a bit, looking at everything and running your fingers over it. Buck makes you sit down in one of the seats and buckles you in. 

“You look awesome!” He chuckles as he takes pictures of you for Maddie. He unbuckles his belt and gets up, looking around outside the door. Eddie gets on one knee, helping to unbuckle you. He looks up at you as you pull your arms out from the straps 

“Thanks” Your voice is a little breathless, god his smile is gorgeous and he smells so damn good. 

“Yeah no problem” He grins, standing up out of your way. 

“Hey Y/N, you wanna pretend to drive?” Buck asks excitedly, rubbing his hands together as he turns back around.

“Oh my god, can I??? Please!!” You squeak and Eddie chuckles, shaking his head at the two of you…he can see your similarities. Buck makes Eddie get out first and smirks as Eddie grabs your hips again, it’s a little harder getting out and you stumble into his arms, squeaking. 

“Hey, Don’t worry I got you” He chuckles, holding you against his chest, you look up at him as he smiles down at you. 

“T-thanks uhh again, I guess' ' you mumble, your cheeks feeling like they’re practically on fire. Buck sits on the floor of the truck, swinging his feet as he just gleefully watches the interaction. Eddie sets you down properly, taking a second before he lets you go. 

“Guess he’s gonna make you help me into the front seat too huh?” You ask a bit shyly 

“I’m lazy as hell so yes” Buck pipes up from behind you and Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“It’s fine. I don’t mind it anyway, just gives me an excuse to get closer to you” He practically purrs and even though he’s joking (he’s not) you melt on the spot, your mouth falling open quickly and snapping shut just as fast. He cracks up as he helps you up into the driver's seat. His hands feel so hot on your hips, they sear into your sides and you wish he’d keep them there. Eddie shuts the door and goes around to the other side, climbing inside. 

“Alright children, go crazy” he teases you and Buck as he watches, he has to swat your hand away from so many buttons that Buck is trying to make you push. Eventually, you’re both just doing it to drive him crazy. 

“Honk the horn, honk the horn!!” Buck chants from the backseat and you look over at Eddie, he shakes his head snickering as he nods

“Alright alright, God. Go ahead, Bobby will know Buck made ya do it” 

You put both hands on the large horn and push down, the loud honking noise echoes through the entire station and Buck bursts out laughing. You fall back in the seat, kicking your legs laughing excitedly and it takes everything in Eddie not to just lean over and kiss you. You look so happy and gleeful as you all hear Bobby already yelling at Buck

“Scatter!!!” Buck yells and jumps from the truck, running away. 

“No! No, that's not fair!” You yell after him, as Eddie jumps from the front seat too. You scramble over to the other chair and Eddie is already waiting with his arms out to you. It stalls you for a second, your heart beating out of your chest as you climb down into his arms. 

“Safe and sound,” he says as he shuts the door and pulls you with him over to a little corner to hide. You can see everything from there, you’re pressed against Eddie as you both watch Bobby coming down the stairs. Buck is hiding in front of the engine, he runs around the opposite side and you’re giggling. Eddie is snorting as he covers your mouth

“Shhhh you’re gonna get us caught” he whispers and god does Eddie not want to be caught. He didn’t mean for this to happen, for your body to be pressed into his, one hand on your back pressing you into him and the other over your mouth. It’s intimate, and soon your giggles die out and you look up at him, his hand still over your mouth. You both stare into each other’s eyes…is it getting hot in here??? Did someone open the bay doors?? 

He slowly removes his hand and you blink at him 

“Sorry” he apologizes softly, he’s just glad there’s no way you can feel the way his heart is beating out of his chest.

“It’s cool,” you say back just as quietly, feeling the same way. You bite your lip, your hands feeling the hard muscles under his tight shirt. Kinda makes you wonder if all his clothes fit him this nicely. 

You’re about to say something when alarms start blaring. You jump, holding onto the front of his shirt and he pulls you in for a second 

“Shit- Shit I gotta go,” he says, reluctantly letting you go. “Hopefully I’ll see you again sometime soon” He tilts your chin up, like he wants to kiss you but decides against it… he did just meet you. Instead, he kisses your forehead before running off to get his stuff on. 

The truck is gone for about 10 minutes before you get a text from Buck, telling you Maddie is coming to pick you up and take you back to his place and that he’ll see you for dinner. He sends a little heart emoji at the end of the message and you smirk. Buck was ridiculous, sincere, but ridiculous. 

The truck rolls back into the station a couple of hours later, It’s time to clean up and head out, their shifts are almost over finally. They work together, putting things back in their places and giving the truck a little wipe-down in a few places. Finally, Bobby dismisses them as the next shift starts coming in.

Eddie walks into the changing room, exhausted and ready to crash at home. He grabs his clothes and tosses them down, grabbing his shirt and yanking it tiredly over his head. 

“So are you ... into her?” Buck asks as he walks in, getting his stuff together and standing next to Eddie to change and chat. He pulls his blue shirt over his head and looks at Eddie as he reaches for his pants

“Into who?” Eddie raises an eyebrow, pulling up his pants. He knows exactly who he’s talking about but he’s not confirming that. 

“ “Into who” Yeah okay” Buck scoffs “Are you into Y/N?” 

“Buck I just met her this afternoon. How could I be into her.” He lies through his teeth…and Buck sees right through him. 

“Okay sure, anyway. Since you wanna play coy I’m not inviting you to dinner anymore”

“Wait, you were inviting me to dinner?” He stops buttoning his pants and looks over at Buck who’s pulling on his jeans

“Yeah I was… but since someone isn’t into someone… I’m not bothering” he buttons his pants and claps him on the back “See ya tomorrow bestie!” He goes to leave, a smirk on his face and Eddie stops him, grabbing his arm. 

“I’m not….I’m not saying I’m into her. But- like-“ he sighs

“I’m hungry” 

Buck walks into the studio, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat. Maddie is sitting at the table, eating a bowl of grapes and you’re standing at the stove, stirring the pot. 

“I’m telling you Mads, he is literally so cu-“ 

Maddie cuts you off, clearing her throat “Hey Buck! Hey… Eddie?” 

Buck pushes Eddie ahead of him and over to the counter, he walks past him to the fridge and grabs a couple of drinks 

“Look who’s staying for dinner,” He says in a singsong voice, tossing Eddie a bottle of water, Eddie rolls his eyes and leans against the small counter next to the stove, he gives you a wink as he opens the bottle 

“Hope you don’t mind? He just invited me at the last minute” He shrugs, sipping the water. He looks over at Maddie, who is staring at Buck intensely. They’re definitely having a sibling conversation. 

“No, not at all! I made more than enough!! I’m glad you could join us.” You give him a little hip bump, feeling your cheeks flush and he bumps you back. He looks up to see Maddie and Buck staring at the two of you, Buck eagerly wiggles, trying to hide his excitement, you turn around and he instantly stops, making Eddie laugh. 

Dinner is good- like really good, Eddie hasn’t eaten Mexican food like that in a while, sure he could go to Catrina’s but it’s just different when it’s from home. Buck had nearly shoved Eddie into the chair next to you, as he plopped down next to Maddie

“Oh don’t mind me! Just wanna sit by my wonderful, loving, perfect, sister” he explained and Maddie facepalmed, Buck couldn’t be more obvious…but at the same time, you couldn’t be more oblivious…Buck was acting weird but he’s Buck he’s always weird.

“So I guess it’s safe to say you’ve got a little Latin flair in you hm?” Eddie asks as he takes a bite from his carnitas, even the tortillas are freshly made. You’d brought them with you from home for Maddie and Buck.

“Yup,” you smile proudly as he moans and rolls his eyes back “I’m half Mexican. And uh, I take it the food is good?” 

“I’m so sorry for the absolute slut I’m about to become while eating this, yes it’s delicious” he nods his head while he’s eating and you break down laughing. Buck and Maddie are looking at each other with that certain sparkle in their eyes again while you’re shoving Eddie and he’s stealing a bite of your rice. 

It’s kind of natural the way you hang all over Eddie over dinner and the way he holds onto you, maybe it’s the Hispanic in you both, very touchy. Or maybe it’s just that he’s fun to be around. Eddie learns a good deal about you, most of it incredibly embarrassing as Buck can’t help himself but tell all of your embarrassing moments as kids together. Eddie gets him back for you, telling the story about how he quite literally peed himself on a date once and you and Maddie are both scream laughing as Buck starts throwing leftover lettuce at Eddie screaming at him to shut up.

“I’m sorry you got into a lettuce war” You giggle as you walk out to Eddie’s car together, nudging each other occasionally. He’s got his hands in his pockets 

“Yeah that’s Buck for you”

Buck had made you walk Eddie out to his car, claimed he absolutely had no choice but to start the dishes or he’d forget, and said Maddie had to use the bathroom and it wasn’t safe for pregnant women to hold it for so long. You’re pretty sure he made that last part up but you just shrug it off, slipping on your slides and following Eddie outside. 

You stop in front of his car and you lean against it a little, dragging your finger down the hood. He clears his throat and you look up at him, he’s blushing as he runs his fingers through his hair nervously. 

“Do you…wanna like to hang out? While you’re in town?” 

“Yeah sure why not! You’re Buck’s best friend I’m sure he’d love to “

“No no- just. Like just us. Just me and you?” He interrupts you, as he gets in his car.

“Oh,” You feel your cheeks flush. “Like…- like a date?” 

“No! No not. Okay- okay that sounds bad I said it way too fast-“ He’s stumbling over his words “Jus- just like being cool hanging out I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t ask you on a date…yet. Like we just met you know so I mean I don’t want to take things too fast for you!!” 

His head falls heavily back against the headrest groaning at his awkwardness, and you’re smirking, your arms crossed over your chest. He looks over at you, his voice low as he takes a deep breath.

“Would you like to go to the zoo with me this weekend? As friends. I’d like to get to know you better.” 

You smile at him, leaning into the car window and kissing him on the cheek.  

“I would love to go to the zoo with you this weekend, as friends” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, that blush on his cheeks deepening as he starts the car, looking at you. “Friends don’t kiss friends” He dares to say that as if he hadn’t kissed your forehead that afternoon. 

“I promise you, friends kiss friends on the cheek. Trust me” You tell him a matter of factly, assuring him as you step back, giving him a little wave.

“Guess I gotta get on that trend huh?” 

He smirks as he drives off. Is he speeding? Yes. But does it look cool as hell, also yes. He’s so giddy all the way home. Not only does he have a Tupperware full of some of the best food he’s eaten in a long time that you’d shoved in his hands and refused to take no for an answer when he tried to tell you he couldn’t possibly take it. But you’d also said yes to the date… okay a “friend” date but you still said yes!!

The next morning he’s got a little more pep in his step, he gets through his workout faster than usual and he’s even early to work.

“You’re in a good mood” Hen comments, as she drinks her coffee, he shrugs as he finishes tucking his shirt into his pants

“I guess I am …yeah” He smiles, fixing his hair. He is in a good mood…he can’t stop thinking about you. He’d even dreamed about you… it was impossible not to think about you. It’s like he could smell your perfume as he was just standing there, whatever you wore was everything to him, he could practically bathe in it. 

“Why are you standing with your hands in your hair like that?” You giggle as you walk up next to him. 

Oh, so he could smell your perfume.

“I was just distracted..” He says awkwardly, turning towards you.

“What are you doing here?”

“I brought brownies! Me and Maddie are hanging out today so she brought me up here ...didn't realize I’d run into you” you say, your hands behind your back as you look around the firehouse. 

“Didn’t think I’d get to see you either…” he says, mimicking your stance

He leans down, kissing you on the cheek. His lips are soft and plump and it makes you blush, his hand ghosts over your hip before he pulls you a little closer to him. 

“So, I was thinking we could go to lunch after the zoo? If you wanted” 

He’s so close now, looking down at you. He’s tall…and he still smells so good, like he always does. You could bottle that and just bathe in it.

“Lunch?” your voice is a bit dreamy as you feel his hand on your hip. He’d been touching you yesterday too and today felt just as good. You can practically feel his body against yours like it was the other day when you were hiding. 

“Yeah, figured we could go to the zoo early…maybe spend the day together. If you’re okay with that” His voice is smooth, sort of deep. Like he’s purposely trying to overwhelm your senses. 

“Y…yeah okay. Yeah, that sounds nice” you agree easily because he is overwhelming you. And you can’t help the way your lips part softly like you just need to know what his feels like. He’s got a smirk on his face as his eyes flick down to your lips, he runs his tongue over his own before he chuckles lightly.

“Alright…it’s a date. But you know, not” His voice is playful as he wiggles his eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes, finally pushing at his chest, shoving him away from you.

“Yeah, yeah whatever I’ll see you this weekend.” You can finally breathe again. 

He watches you walk away, practically thirsting over that sway in your hips and the way those shorts you’re wearing hug your body so deliciously. 

“Shoulda taken her to the beach…” he mumbles to himself.

“Can you not eye fuck my cousin in front of me please, I truly don’t think that’s too hard of a request.” Buck groans as he shoves a brownie in Eddie’s mouth. 

“And she’s good at baking?!” Eddie moans around his bite, accepting the brownie from Bucks's hand 

Buck rolls his eyes “Of course she’s good at baking. She’s good at everything”

“Eddie you better get to talking to her before I do” Hen threatens him jokingly “These are damn good”

“I know okay, I know” Eddie sighs “I’m not going to jump at her though, that’s like….desperate right? I don’t want to come off as desperate…even if I think she’s pretty. Like really pretty- stupid pretty”

“Hey, guys? You think she’s pretty?” Chim asks as he comes over to help Hen restock the engine. 

“Not sure. Maybe we should ask Eddie” Hen nods as she walks away with him. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, flicking them both off as he leans against the wall, rubbing his hands over his face. Buck chuckles at him, putting his hand on his arm.

“She's not gonna think you’re desperate Eddie… Y/N isn’t like that. And I think she’s into you too. Just be yourself, man, You’re a good guy Eddie, and a total catch. I love Y/N with all of my heart but if she can’t see that? She’s a total loser. And you know two sides of the same coin if you can’t see she’s the greatest woman in the entire world you’re the loser” He snickers as he elbows Eddie in the ribs. Eddie chuckles and sighs nudging Buck back. 

“Thank you for restoring my confidence…I needed that. You’re the greatest friend in the world man, honestly”

Bobby makes a gagging sound as he walks by “And you’re the greatest crew in the world” He says in a high-pitched voice, fluttering his eyelashes. 

“Hey! We’re having a moment” Buck says, throwing his napkin at Bobby. 

Part Two

[hedghost]

alessia russo | stubborn love

at any given time, alessia's actions were determined by one of two opposing thought processes. number 1, she was incredibly sensible, and number 2, she was unforgivingly stubborn. predictably, the latter normally won out, especially when she wasn't feeling well.

in which alessia spends the day insisting she's fine. you know better.

word count: 4.6k

when you wake that morning, it's to the sound of light rain against your window. you absentmindedly watch the sliver of grey skies through the crack in the curtain, as you prepare yourself for the day ahead.

alessia is still asleep. even now, she maintains her tight grip around your waist, one hand splayed protectively over your chest. this is nothing unusual. from her position nestled against you, you can feel her soft breath against your collarbone, can feel the gentle brush of her hair on your neck. you pull her impossibly closer and close your eyes, drinking in the sensation of her body entangled in yours. even asleep, her presence is a calming force, anchoring you to her.

these are the moments you have come to adore. your alarms will go off soon, and the matchday routine will begin. for now, however, you are perfectly content to hold alessia close and listen to the rain.

the shrill noise of your alarm cuts through the calm. alessia only groans and tucks her head into your neck even more. reaching to turn it off, you smile softly and nudge her.

“come on, love,” you murmur, “time to get up.”

“five more minutes,” she groans, her voice croaky with sleep. you stretch as best as you can with her still pinning you down, successfully dislodging her a little.

alessia rolls off you, lying on her back as she yawns and rubs her eyes. you stand once she does, readying yourself to begin your game day preparations.

“i’m gonna hop in the shower - don’t go back to sleep, mkay?” you say, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead. alessia clears her throat and nods.

the warm water washes away the last remnants of sleep, and you emerge out of the bathroom fully focused on the game ahead. you get dressed quickly, smirking as you watch alessia try to wake herself up a little more. you’ve been together long enough to know she is not a morning person.

“god, i’m tired,” she whispers, finally pulling herself to her feet and towards the bathroom.

you press a kiss to her temple as she passes you, and she smiles gratefully.

“i’ll get some food going,” you say.

alessia pads into the kitchen as you finish plating up breakfast, her hair still a little damp. you pass her some food before taking your seat in front of her. you coax a little conversation out of her as the two of you eat, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. she seems a little out of it this morning, not her usual match-day laser focus, but it’s been a long week. you’ve both been busy. it's probably just that. still, you know her routines well enough to know when she’s acting even a fraction differently.

“you okay lessi?” you say, noticing she seems to have zoned out once again. at your words, she snaps her attention back to you.

“hmm?”

”just checking you were alright, you're a bit quiet this morning?”

“oh right sorry, yeah i’m good,” she gives a sheepish smile, swallowing before speaking again, “just haven’t really woken up yet,”

you think you catch a hint of strain in her voice when she speaks, but, like she said, she’s probably just tired. you shrug as you stand, having finished your breakfast well before alessia.

“fair enough love, want me to make you a coffee?”

“i can do it,” she says, starting to rise in her seat, but you put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from standing.

“its cool, i got it. finish your food, it'll go cold,"

the smile that finds its way onto your face is not intentional, but when you’re with alessia, they rarely are. something about her, about being with her, just brings you a content warmth. an early-morning sort of peace. you’d do just about anything if it meant her day ran a little easier.

“here,” you say as you hand alessia the travel mug. “ready to go?”

“yeah, let me just grab my bag,” her words are punctuated with a light sniffle, so slight you almost miss it. you watch out the corner of your eye for any sign she might be upset, or on the verge of tears, but you see nothing. it slips your mind as quickly as it came.

the drive over to where you'll meet the team bus is quiet, only the hum of the engine and the faint patter of the rain hitting the windscreen. at any other time, you and alessia both favour loud music blaring from the speaker, alternating between constant chatter and pealing laughter about something trivial, but before games, you both appreciate a little peace to get in the zone. you focus on the road while alessia sips her coffee next you, watching the cars pass by.

the quiet is interrupted by the sound of a harsh coughing fit. you turn your head to see alessia slightly bent over as she tries to get it under control.

"whoa, you alright?" you say, flitting your eyes back and forth between the road and your girlfriend. she nods, pausing to catch her breath.

"yeah sorry, coffee went down the wrong way," she gives you a weak smile, clearing her throat again. you laugh and accept it, but when you turn your attention back to driving, you catch another sniffle, and your scepticism returns. you have a funny feeling you know what's up. you make a mental note to keep an eye on her, hoping your worries are unfounded.

despite your concern, alessia gives no further indication that she's feeling anything but her best for the rest of the drive. you walk onto the bus together, both putting on your headphones as you take your seats. as usual, she sits next to tooney, with you across the aisle. you watch her out of the corner of your eye as much as you can, but it's hard to gauge much when she has put a little distance between you. again, this is nothing unusual. she's always quiet at this point before a match, running through the gameplan or mentally dissecting the opposition.

you think alessia seems tired still during pre-match warm up, a little distracted as you walk the pitch as a team. to anyone else, its probably entirely unnoticeable, and you shake your head. you're probably just being paranoid. you turn your attention to the grey skies above, it looks like the rain is likely to get worse.

once you head back in, the changing room is alive with its usual buzz, a mixture of pre-match jitters and an itch to begin play. you plop down next to alessia, who sits rather reservedly as she pulls her socks on.

"hey less?"

"mhmm?"

"are you feeling okay?" you talk quietly, knowing she wouldn't appreciate the rest of the team hearing your question.

"i'm fine y/n," she shrugs off your question, not exactly the bright, bubbly alessia you're used to.

"are you sure? you can tell me if you don't feel w-"

"i said i'm fine," she says shortly, a little harsher than you would expect from her. you can tell she wants you let it go, but that only encourages your badgering. you try a softer approach.

"less, baby, it's me, come on,"

she takes a deep breath in, then turns to you, offering a smile again.

"i'm good love, just a little tired, i promise," her defensiveness is gone, and you scan her face for any indication she's lying, "sorry, i'll be fine once we start playing,"

you nod, biting your lip. you trusted alessia, you knew she was sensible. you know she wouldn't lie about something that could affect the team's performance. you also knew that she could be undeniably, unwaveringly stubborn, but you choose to let it go. you decide to accept her word, to chalk her bad mood up to pre-match nerves, and the culmination of a long week.

"alright love, ready to go?" you stand as the team begins to filter out for the start of play. "how about we have a chill day tomorrow, huh? have a lie in, maybe go out for lunch, just you and me?"

she takes your hand, squeezing it gently as you walk out together.

"that sounds nice,"

the game begins and, almost immediately, the weather takes a turn for the worse. the team plays well despite the conditions, with you leading the impenetrable back line, and alessia wreaking havoc up front. at half time, you’re one-nil up, and all equally drenched. you gather around on the benches as marc begins his half-time talk.

you've all changed into dry kits, but you can still feel alessia shivering next to you. you had no cause for concern on the pitch, focused only on the game, but now the worry is back in full force. you always could read her like a book. you can tell she's only half-listening, attention seemingly elsewhere. you sidle a little closer to her, hoping your presence can offer a little comfort, but she doesn't seem to notice.

pressed up against her, you feel, more than hear, her sharp intake of breath. alessia turns away to sneeze breathlessly into her elbow. you place a hand on her thigh and rub it gently, settling for another small gesture of comfort. you want to wrap her up in a hug and not let go, but you can't do that in front of everyone. you know her well enough to know the last thing she would want is you drawing attention to her, especially like this. someone blesses her, and she blushes.

"sorry," she murmurs, and marc continues speaking. you make a note to check if she’s okay when you can get a more private second with her, but you already know your fears have been confirmed with that single sneeze. your girlfriend is definitely coming down with something.

marc concludes his speech, and the team disperses to brave the rain again. you try to grab alessia's attention, but she successfully shuts you down by practically marching back onto the field.

the next half of the game is cagey, and this time, you keep your attention on alessia. now that she's given you an almost confirmation that she's getting ill, you know what to look out for. even if she felt okay before, she's undeniably getting sicker. she still plays well, of course she does, but to someone who knows her as well as you do, the signs are all there.

alessia is breathing a little heavier, recovering a little slower after making a run. she seems a little more hesitant to be involved in those heavy challenges, and when she does inevitably get knocked over (nothing unusual, even on a good day alessia is never that great at staying on her feet), she takes a little longer to get back up. you see her cough into her fist a few times, stopping occasionally to sniff or wipe her nose. even when she scores, her celebration seems lacklustre, smile barely lasting long enough for you to make your way over and pull her in for a hug. she pulls away just as quickly.

you hope it’s nothing, maybe just a small cold, but when the game is finally done and you enter the changing room, you’re kicking yourself for even letting her play. everyone else is celebrating the win exuberantly, but alessia's smiles are subdued, a ghost of her usual self. your teammates clap you on the back as you walk past, and you echo their congratulations with a big smile, but your attention is solely on your girlfriend.

you know she won’t admit anything or accept help here, not in front of everyone else, so you have to be subtle in your comfort. coming to a stop in front of the bench where she sits, you run a hand over her hair and rub her shoulder. she leans her head back against the wall and looks up. her face is flushed, hair dripping from the rain. you don't press her with questions, knowing you'll only get shut down again. besides, you think you have your answer just by looking at her.

"well done today less, that was such a sick goal,"

she smiles, leaning ever so slightly into your touch. she looks shattered, like she could fall asleep right there and then. you open your mouth to speak, but before you can, she clears her throat and cuts you off.

"i'm fine, before you say anything," her guard is back up, but her voice is scratchy when she speaks, and you know she's anything but. she levels her gaze at you, daring you to argue with her, but the overall effect is lost, the challenge not quite meeting her tired eyes.

"yeah i know. you're fine, i wasn't going to say anything," you hold your hands up in surrender.

clearly she wasn't expecting that response, and the fight deflates out of her, with a small 'oh, yeah'. you both know she's lying, but when she realises she might have convinced you to drop it, at least for now, she relaxes a little. she knows you're in her corner, and you know that pressing the issue in front of the team will only end badly. like you said, she's stubborn, and she'll deny feeling unwell for as long as possible. you just have to go about your comfort in less direct ways. you smile down at her.

"tired?" you say, and she nods. at least she'll concede this to you. "you can have a nap once we're on the bus, yeah? come on, let's go shower," you pull her to her feet, and she stands dutifully. you pick up both of your wash bags, before practically dragging her towards the shower room.

the two of you enter into neighbouring cubicles, and you relax into the warm water, a welcome change from the cold rain. you wash yourself quickly, not wanting alessia to have to wait for you. as you do so, you hear her let out a few harsh sneezes in quick succession. you wince at the sound. that’s confirmation of a cold if you ever did need it.

you're dried and changed before alessia exits the showers. she emerges looking a little more refreshed, but now you can see how flushed her face really is. you know the rest of the girls will take a while to get showered, still chatting and revelling in the win. someone has put a speaker on, and you think you see alessia wince at the loud music. it makes you wonder if she's got a headache too.

"wanna head on to the bus? these lot will be a while," you say, and alessia hesitates. clearly she doesn't want people to think something is up. you change tactics.

"please babe," you say, loud enough for the others to hear, "i'm knackered and this music's giving me a headache,"

its a lie of course, and alessia knows this, but she nods and takes your hand.

"see you on the bus guys!" you call over your shoulder, before wrapping your arm around alessia's waist. she relaxes imperceptibly.

there are fans waiting outside as you walk to the coach. you mean to keep walking, but alessia breaks apart from you to sign a few things, so you do the same. their shouts for autographs and photos increase in volume, and you sneak a sideways glance at alessia. she's not talking much, and you can tell she's putting up her best front for the fans. it might fool them, but it's certainly not fooling you. your heart melts, and you place a hand on her back protectively. you shout a quick excuse and goodbye to the remaining fans, who groan at your quick departure, but your only concern is getting your girl onto the bus, and away from their loud voices and prying eyes.

this time, you sit next to alessia, letting her take the window seat. you pick seats at the front, knowing it'll be quieter than the rest of the bus. she settles into you as you place an arm around her. alessia lets out a few more coughs, and you pass her a water without a word. you subtly dig around to see if you have any tissues, but come up short, instead praying alessia won't need them.

soon enough the rest of the team file onto the bus, and you begin the trip home. you watch as alessia fights to keep her eyes open, and you stroke a finger down her nose. its something you do sometimes, when she can't sleep, having inadvertently found out it worked at the beginning of your relationship. back then, the two of you had still been nervously figuring each other out, still discovering where the lines between the two of you met.

"just get some sleep less, we'll be home soon,"

sure enough, she’s asleep in minutes. you listen to your teammates conversations, joining in occasionally, but always mindful not to wake the girl nestled into your side. you watch her as she sleeps, as her breathing becomes heavier, her lips parted, her nose stuffy. when you arrive, you press a kiss to her hair to wake her. she blinks up at you, doe-eyed and half-asleep.

"come on less, lets go,"

the drive home is short, and quiet. the music is low enough for you to hear how alessia is still fighting to hide her coughs and sniffles from you. you have to admire her dedication, even if she's not fooling you in the slightest. you know you'll have to force her into confession when you get in, and you prepare yourself for a very stubborn alessia as you head into your shared flat.

you lock the door behind you, and turn to confront her. now that it's just the two of you, you can speak plainly and firmly, and you hope it'll be enough to make alessia admit she's sick.

"right less, the jig is up, i know you're-" you cut yourself off as you catch her expression. she looks utterly miserable, those bright eyes staring up at you with unshed tears. she sniffs, and you aren't sure if its from her cold or not.

"i don't feel well," she whispers. just speaking seems to tickle her throat, and she's hit by another violent cough, almost as though to prove her point. not that it needs any proving.

you hadn't expected her to give in this easily, and it's only now that you realise just how bad she's feeling. all the fight you had prepared rushes out of you, leaving only crushing guilt that you hadn't clocked the extent of her illness, and a strong desire to wrap alessia up in blankets forever. your hopes that it was just a little cold are well and truly gone, and all you want to do is make it all better.

"oh darling, i know, i know," you breathe out as you pull her into you. she practically falls into your embrace, and you hold her close. "it's okay love, you don't have to pretend anymore," she presses her face into your neck and nods, sinking impossibly further into your arms.

your hand finds the back of her head, and you thread your fingers through her still damp hair. you know you need to get her into bed, but she seems reluctant to let you go, and so the two of you stand there for a little while, two silhouettes locked together in the dim light of the hallway. you press your lips to her temple, feeling the warmth coming from her skin. alessia's breath hitches, and she tries to pull away, but you don't move your arms.

"y/n, i need- i need to sn-sneeze,"

"oh right sorry," you say, and she moves away from you to desperately sneeze twice into her hands. the force of it almost bends her double, and even the sneezes sound exhausted. you place a steadying hand on her back.

"oh sweetheart, bless you, let's get you into bed hmm?" you coo, and she nods miserably.

"do you have a tissue?" she says shyly as you lead her into the bedroom, "need to blow my nose," she mumbles the last part, clearly embarrassed, whether about being ill or asking for help, you aren't sure. you choose to ignore her hesitance, just glad she's finally asking at all.

"yeah, i'll go get you some. you just go get changed yeah?"

you grab her an old t-shirt of yours to sleep in, one you've caught her wearing when she's been upset or ill before. you bend to brush your lips to her forehead as she sits on the bed. alessia just about manages a grateful smile, swallowing through the pain in her throat.

you rush through the flat, on a mission to gather anything alessia might possibly want or need as fast as you can. you didn't like the idea of leaving her alone for too long. you knew alessia was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but that didn't mean she should have to, for god's sake. you flick the kettle on, then set about grabbing tissues, cold medicine, an extra blanket, anything you could think of that might make alessia feel just a fraction better.

making your way back into the bedroom, you were greeted by alessia rummaging through your kit bags. placing your wares on the bedside table, you walk up and wrap your hands around her from behind. you can feel her shivering against your front.

"less, what are you doing? you should be in bed,"

"i need to put my things away," she mumbled, her voice stuffy, consonants rounded out by congestion, "i know you don't like things left out, it'll only take a second,"

"less, don't be stupid, you can barely stand," you sigh with an exasperated smile. she starts to protest, but you pull her towards the bed, "i'll do that tomorrow, it's fine, come on. bed now,"

she gives in easily, and your heart melts for the umpteenth time that day. you tuck another blanket over her and pass her a mug of tea.

"did you put honey in it?" she asks shyly as she wraps her hands around it, appreciating the warmth. you smile down at her.

"of course i put honey in it. i know what you like,"

"thank you," alessia's voice is low, almost reverent. she looks down, seemingly wanting to say more, so you remain quiet.

"i'm sorry," she eventually whispers. at this, you move to sit down on the bed, brushing a stray lock of her hair back, and rubbing her cheek gently with your thumb. alessia leans into the touch.

"darling, what are you sorry for?"

"i just- i was horrible to you today. i knew you were only trying to look after me, and you were being so nice, and so caring, and i just-" alessia sniffs and looks up, blinking back tears, "i felt awful all day, and you know me so well so of course you could tell, but i just kept lying to you, and i could've cost us the game and i-"

you shift on the bed, wrapping your arm around her shoulders, and placing a hand on her thigh, mindful of the mug of tea she still held.

"shh less, its okay. that doesn't matter,"

"but-"

"no buts. you were ill, and you wanted to play. and you played well despite it all too. you're tough, to do that. i mean, also stubborn and a bit stupid, because i think you've only made yourself worse, but it's okay, alright?"

"i don't deserve you," she exhaled.

"i don't deserve you, you stubborn idiot," you smirk, and she laughs weakly.

"i'm not that stubborn," she mutters, but there was no bite to it. you were just glad to have coached a little smile out of her. she turns to cough harshly into her fist again.

"yes. you are. but i love you for it." you say, standing to get changed. you soften your voice when you next speak, "now shut up and drink your tea. it'll help your throat, okay?" for once, alessia obeys you.

"do you need anything else before i come to bed, love?"

alessia shakes her head, "just you,"

"sap," you say, climbing under the covers. alessia shivers as you pull them back. she sits up to let you position yourself behind her, before nestling into your arms. she sniffles again.

"how are you feeling? be honest this time" you say, passing her a tissue.

"not good," she murmurs, "my throat hurts and my body hurts and my head aches and my nose is so stuffy,"

"poor baby," you say, rubbing her arms. once she got past the initial denial stage, alessia could be a bit dramatic when she was ill. you didn't mind too much.

"and i need to sneeze again," she whines, moving to sit up. you push her back down. "what are you doing? i don't want to get you si-," alessia cuts herself off with another sneeze.

"bless you love. i won't get sick, and if i do, i don't care." you press another kiss to her forehead. "besides, i don't think its going to make a difference if you sneeze here or a foot away from me. especially not when we're sharing a bed,"

"i'll make you sleep on the sofa," alessia mumbles, before sniffling again.

"no, you won't," you knew alessia couldn't go without your comfort when she was sick.

"no i won't," she concedes with a sigh, "i don't want you to catch this though," her breath hitches as she speaks, and you smirk.

"are you going to sneeze again?"

"no," alessia denies. you raise your eyebrows, the challenge present in your expression. you smirk as she clearly tries to hold it back.

"so stubborn,"

alessia tries to respond, but the tickle in her nose gets the better of her. she whines after she sneezes, burying her head into your chest.

"y/n, i feel like shit," her words are muffled against you, and between her blocked nose and scratchy throat, its hard to hear exactly what she says. you get the gist though.

"i know love, i know," she buries further into you and you stroke her hair, noting the way her skin feels warm and clammy to the touch. "i've got you. try and sleep now, i'll be here if you need me, okay?"

you hear her mumble something else into your chest, but you dont quite catch it.

"what was that love?" she looks up at you, cheeks flushed and nose pink. even when sick, she looks impossibly cute.

"will you read to me?" she repeats, shyly. you beam down at her. god you love this girl.

"which book?"

"i don't mind, one of yours?"

you were an avid reader, and had quite the collection. alessia meanwhile wasn't much for books, only reading occasionally when on holiday, or on a long flight. at times like this however, when she didn't feel well, or she'd had a bad day, or even just couldn't sleep, she'd ask you to read to her. you adored it; the fact that just your voice alone was enough to calm her, make her feel better, make her feel safe enough to drift off when she was struggling.

you lean over to grab a book you kept on your dresser for these exact times. the book changed of course, sometimes it was poems, sometimes a novel you'd read a thousand times over, but always something you knew would calm your girlfriend. you begin to read.

alessia burrows into you, closing her eyes. she listens to the murmur of your chest as you speak, lets your soft words drift over her. it doesn't take long for her breathing to even out, but you keep reading aloud until you're sure she's fast asleep.

you put the book down and gaze lovingly down at your girl, feeling her light breath ghost over your collarbone, watching her eyelids flutter in her sleep. she snuffles and snores lightly, her cold blocking her nose. you smile softly at her perfectly parted lips, at the light flush that spreads over her freckles. you press a light kiss to her head, whispering a soft declaration of love into her hair.

"night darling, i've got you now,"

a soft little sickfic for you guys, hope you enjoyed it <;3

can't lie i love writing fluffy hurt/comfort ones like this so if you liked it please send in similar requests! i'd willingly write a part 2 to this one with absolutely zero plot lol

all love, hedge xx

[devilat-thedoor]

Sweet to Taste II

blame @ignite-my-fire she asked for it👀

This one is really nothing but forbidden twin filth. But shoutout to these babes for being so supportive💖 @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @gvfpal @jakesguitarsolo

Word Count: 4.6k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader x Sam Kiszka

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI(Voyeurism, Fingering, Pussy Slapping🫣, Oral(m rec), Unprotected Sex, Spanking, Very Mild Edging, Squirting) Dom!Jake & Soft-Dom!Sam deserve a warning of their own, let’s be real. Oh, and the aftercare🥹

🌟🌟🌟

“Y/N, your 5 top at table six needs refills.” Your coworker, Jess, nudged you, yanking you from your daydream, “Are you good? You keep, like, zoning out…” She placed her tray down, eyeing you.

Standing up straight, you tucked your pen into a pocket on your apron and turned around to grab yourself an empty tray, “Yeah, I’m fine… It’s just been a long shift.” You pulled your notepad out, reading over the table six drink orders, and began filling new cups. Putting on the friendliest face you could muster, you picked the tray up and dropped the drinks off, picking up the empty glasses. Walking back towards the kitchen to get rid of the dishes, your mind began to wander again. Every thought, for the past two weeks, has been Jake and Sam and the night you’d shared with them. You woke up the next morning, tangled between the two of them, and though you had no shame about what went down, you couldn’t be sure they felt the same. When you climbed over Jake to go to the bathroom, he grabbed your waist with one hand, weaving his fingers through your hair with the other to pull you in for a kiss. You could feel Sammy’s eyes on you but you didn’t think anything of it until you finally broke away from the older boy to use the bathroom and came back to find both of them gone. When your calls and texts went unanswered that day, you knew something was up. You gave it a couple of days before you tried to reach out again and when you did, you finally got an answer out of Sam, letting you know that they’d be out of town for a bit. That was a week and a half ago and you haven’t heard anything since…until now. Your phone began to vibrate in your apron pocket and you dug it out to read the caller ID. Jake… Dropping the tray of cups by the dishwasher, you rushed out of the kitchen, “Jess, can you cover for me for a few minutes?” You held your phone up, signaling that you had a call, as she nodded in approval.

“Hello?” You held the phone to your ear as you stepped outside.

His voice came through, sending butterflies through your stomach, “Hey beautiful. You busy tonight?”

You tried to play it cool, but you were practically vibrating with excitement, “Depends… Did you have something in mind?”

“I did.” He paused for a moment, “Josh is having a party at his place tonight. Come. I want to see you… We both do.”

You knew he meant he and Sam, but you were a little disappointed that you wouldn’t have them alone, “Umm. yeah, okay. What time?”

“Be there by 9. See you.” He hung up before you could even say goodbye and the confusion in your brain only multiplied.

You had barely gotten a shred of attention from either of them since that night and now you’re being asked to go to a party because they miss you? It was definitely weird, but you were aching to see them, so of course you’d show up.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

After you’d gotten off work at 6, you went straight home to shower and get ready. A bit of mascara and some lip gloss later, you were pulling on your favorite casual dress. Black and form fitting, hugging your body in all the right places, with thin straps that tied into bows on your shoulders. You fastened your hair into a high ponytail, letting it dangle down your neck. Pulling on a pair of boots and your leather jacket, you took one last look at yourself in the floor length mirror before grabbing your phone and keys to head out. You pulled up to Josh’s, his driveway already lined with cars and people scattered around the outside of the property. The music was loud, filtering through the opened front door as you made your way inside. You made a beeline for the kitchen in search of a drink.

As you stood at the counter, pouring tequila into a cup, a pair of hands landed on your waist, snaking around to wrap you in their hold, “I was wondering when you’d show up.” He bent down, lips right against your neck as he whispered, “I like this dress, babe…a little short though.” He pinched the hem between his fingers, letting his knuckles graze your thigh.

“I knew you’d like the dress, Sammy.” You spun around in his arms, slinging your own over his shoulders, “But I expected you to spend the night avoiding me.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Avoid you? I could never.” He dropped a hand to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he held eye contact, “You and Jake were pretty cozy… I was just giving you the space to explore that.” The smirk on his lips was hinting that he was up to something, “In fact, he’s looking for you now.” His hands left your body as he pointed behind you, “You should probably go say hi.”

You looked in the direction he was pointing to find Jake watching you intently, but even from a distance, you could see the playful smirk on his face. Turning back to Sam, you grabbed his wrist before he could disappear, “You have my attention right now. Jake can wait.” You hooked your hand into the front of his waistband yanking him against you, “Unless you have someone else waiting on you?” Your fingers wiggled against the short bit of hair just beneath his jeans.

“Nobody who’s attention is worth more than yours.” He bent forward, his hand grasping the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. You bit down on his lip, drawing a growl from deep in his chest, “Make yourself a drink and come find me.” He broke away from you, slipping through the sea of people littering the kitchen. Turning back to the counter, you picked up your cup, tossing back the clear liquid in it.

“You want some lime with that, mama?” Josh appeared at your side as you poured more liquor.

You put the bottle down, pulling him into a hug, “Nope, having it straight tonight. Have a shot with me!” You handed him the bottle and took your cup.

He fake clinked the bottle with you, “Cheers, Y/N!” He brought the neck to his lips, taking a couple chugs while you swallowed your own. Josh shook his body out with a grimace, “I’ll catch up with you later, mama. Have fun!” He grasped your face, pressing a sloppy, wet kiss to your cheek before skipping into the crowd. You allowed yourself one more shot before going to search for Sammy.

Rounding the doorway out of the kitchen, you saw Jake talking with a few people in the corner or the dining room. His eyes flicked to you for the tiniest second before going back to the girl in front of him, barely acknowledging you. Oh really? You sauntered towards him, a sweet smile plastered on your face, “Not even a hi, Jake?”

He let his gaze settle on you a little longer this time, taking in your outfit, “Hi.” He returned to his conversation as you stared at him. When he realized you weren’t leaving, he turned to face you completely, “I’m having a conversation.” He leaned in, dropping his voice for you and only you, “Be a good girl and go find Sam to keep you company until I’m finished.”

You couldn’t deny the rush you felt at his command as you whispered a “Yes, sir.” and scampered off to look for Sammy.

You found him sitting on the couch in the living room, puffing on a cigarette between his fingers, “Josh would kill you if he found out you’re smoking in his house.” He waved his hands dismissively, unbothered by your claim as he licked his lips, staring at your legs, “You’re an ass. Gimme.” You plucked the stick from his hold and dropped into a random cup on the coffee table, listening to the sizzle as the cherry went out.

“C’mere, babe.” Sam yanked on your hand, pulling you down on his lap, “When can we get the fuck out of here?” He flattened his palm against your abdomen, pushing you to sit back against his chest, “I just wanna peel this dress off…” His breath was hot on your skin as he whispered in your ear, bunching the fabric up in his fist.

You tilted your head to him, flashing a devilish smirk, “Why the rush, baby? Isn’t the party just getting good?” You circled your hips, effectively grinding into him. When you turned your attention back to the rest of the room, you scanned the crowd for the other Kiszka, finding him in a conversation with another man.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Y/N.” His teeth nipped at the shell of your ear, “If you think I won’t throw you down in front of all these people, you’re sorely mistaken, babe.” Sam’s hand left your sternum to rest on your leg.

You watched his hand tickle along your skin, squeezing the inside of your thigh, “I think you know I always finish, Sammy?” The music was loud and the lights too low to emit any kind of glow over the two of you, “Don’t make empty threats…”

You felt his tongue glide up your neck, “You wanna make him watch, don’t you?” His hand lingered on your thigh, fingers teasing higher.

You tore your eyes from his hand, looking up to see Jake across the room, surrounded by other party guests but his gaze unmistakably transfixed on you, “I just think he might enjoy the show, Sammy.” You shivered as he finally made it beneath your dress.

His eyes widened as he dragged a finger over you, “You’re not wearing- Fuck, babe…”

“Oops…must’ve slipped my mind.” You shrugged as you held eye contact with Jake, his stare burning deep into your skin. A gasp escaped you as he slid through your folds and you parted your legs just an inch further.

He teeth were just barely digging at your shoulder as he stared down, “You’re so fucking wet, babe.” He was swirling his calloused fingers over your clit, smiling to himself as you fought to keep your whimpers down. He dipped his hand lower, pushing the tip of his middle finger through your entrance to feel you instantly clench around it, “Shit… She needs me, huh? Practically begging for my fingers.”

You struggled to keep your eyes on Jake as Sam pushed his finger deeper. You could’ve sworn you watched his gaze narrow, his tongue darting out over his lip, right before your eyes flitted. All of your focus went back to the younger Kiszka, “More, Sammy.” You cupped your hand over top of his, dropping your head to his shoulder, as he added a second finger, “Hmmm…”

He let out a quiet chuckle, “I bet she’d prefer my cock, wouldn’t she?” His eyes were flicking around the room, making sure your display stayed unnoticed, “If you just sit up a little, I could slip right inside, babe. No one would even know.” The deep rasp of his voice was enticing, making you want to throw all your inhibitions out the window, “He’s getting pissed… You think he’ll stick around to watch you cum on my hand?” Sam curled his fingers, eliciting a high pitched whine from you. His free hand came up to grip your face, turning your head enough to sink his mouth onto your own, swallowing up the noise.

You were completely lost in the feeling of Sammy, you didn’t catch Jake storming through the plethora of people, “Are you fucking done?” His fingers wrapped around your wrist, plucking you from Sam’s lap.

You yelped as Sam retracted his hand before gazing up at Jake with a giggle, “Well, I was almost done.” Looking back at the younger boy, he was laughing as well, but Jake didn’t share the amusement.

“Upstairs, now. Guest room.” He growled the command into your ear, “I need to have a word with my brother. Go.”

“Jakey, we were just-“

His nostrils flared as he stared at you, “One more word and I’ll see to it that you don’t cum at all. Go.” He pointed towards the staircase. You didn’t argue, just turned and scurried up to Josh's guest room, closing the door behind you. You sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do or what was to come, as you fidgeted with your hands. Kicking your boots off, you climbed onto the mattress, sitting with your legs tucked beneath you and waited for them. Several minutes had passed when the door finally opened and the brother’s came through it, both wearing wicked grins, “I hope it was worth it, baby… Didn’t anybody ever tell you that your actions have consequences?” Jake was coming across the room as Sam locked the door.

You swallowed hard, building the courage for what you were about to say, “What’s the matter, Jake? I thought you’d enjoy watching?” You tried to look as innocent as possible.

He was in front of you in a flash, holding your jaw in one hand while he undid his jeans with the other, “You think that was your idea? Think you’re in charge?” He let out a deep laugh, taking his hand from your face to dig into his pocket, “Baby, you’re not the only one who likes to make bets.” He pulled out a hundred dollar bill, passing it to his brother while keeping his eyes on you.

“He didn’t think you’d do it. Not in the middle of the party… But I know you, babe.” Sam took the money with a smile, “To be fair, I was gonna let you cum before he interrupted, but I think he felt left out.” He nodded to the older boy.

Your eyes darted back and forth between them, “You guys- Wait… What was the bet?”

“Well,” Jake grasped the hem of your dress to lift it over your head, “Sam kept going on and on about how you’re always down for anything, never one to shy away from a challenge.” He waited for you to raise your arms, removing the garment to toss it to the floor, “I bet him that he couldn’t get you to open up for him in a crowded room tonight- lay down.” He pushed on your shoulders, guiding you to lay on your back, “Deep down, I knew you’d fold… But I was a bit surprised at how quickly you spread your legs for him.” He pulled you to the edge of the bed, pushing your legs apart, “Putting this sweet pussy on display for anybody to see, no hesitation.” He bit down on his lip, petting your clit with the pad of his thumb.

The light touch made you whine, “No it- Fuck… It wasn’t for-“ Your breath caught as he applied more pressure.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, what was that?” His thumb continued its movement while he pushed two fingers through your entrance, “Come on. Use your words.”

“You, Jake.” It was a breathless huff, your hands digging at the blanket below you, “It wasn’t for anyone…It-It was for you to see.”

Sam crawled onto the bed behind you, taking your hands into his and holding them, “She was so fucking wet, Jake. She likes being watched.”

“She’s still soaked, brother.” He pulled his fingers from you, rapidly flicking them over your cunt to hear the vulgar, splashy sounds, while Sammy moved his hands to your tits, pinching your nipples between his fingers.

You were writhing on the bed, the stimulation from both of them driving you wild, “Please… I’ve been waiting for weeks.” You were lifting your hips to meet Jake’s hand, “Aaah. Fuck, Jake.” You whimpered as his hand cracked down over your pussy, sending a shockwave through you.

“Normally, I’d like to hear you beg, baby…” His fingers pushed back into you, “But we’re gonna take our time with you tonight and begging won’t move things along, only compliance will.” He thrusted deep, curling his fingers against your sweet spot, “Understand?” He repeated the action a second time.

Acting purely out of feral need, you rolled your hips into his hand, earning yourself another harsh slap, “FUCK. I’m sorry. I-I understand.” You gripped onto Sam’s wrists as he continued massaging your breast.

Jake ripped his shirt off and pulled himself from his already unbuttoned jeans, “That’s good, beautiful.” He grabbed his cock, stroking it as he stood between your legs, “I wanna hear you make all those dirty noises.” He slipped his head through your folds, allowing the wetness to coat his tip, before burying himself inside of you, “Don’t hold out on me.”

You winced at the stretch, digging your nails into Sammy’s arms with a hiss, “Christ, Jacob!” You looked up to see the smug smile planted on his face as he began drawing his hips back. He moved slowly, making sure you felt every fine detail.

He left only the tip in, bringing his fingers back to your clit to draw a series of whines from you, “That’s it, baby. Let me know just how good I make you feel.” Jake slammed back into you without warning, smiling at the cry you let out. He kept this up for what felt like an eternity, drawing out to tease your throbbing clit just to fill you back up for a short second.

Your mind was swimming, unable to form any thoughts outside of release. Knowing you wouldn’t get anywhere with Jake, you turned your attention to Sam, who always had a soft spot for you, “Sammy… Baby, please.” You gazed up at him, brows pinched as shaky whimpers fell from your lips, “P-please, I need-.”

“Shhh. It’s okay, babe. I’ll take care of you.” He let his fingers graze your cheeks in the softest touch before looking to his brother, “Jake, let me have her.”

Jake met his eyes, the two of them caught in a staring contest, before he finally relented, “Fine… You give into her too easily. She’s got you wrapped around her finger.” He pulled himself out of you, allowing the other boy to take his place, “Flip her over, I want to fuck her pretty face.”

Sam gripped your legs, flipping you in a swift movement and placing your feet on the floor, “I think I like this view better anyways.” He kept your chest pressed into the mattress and slapped his palm across your ass, enjoying the way it bounced and rippled, before bending to leave a kiss right over his red handprint. He took note of how your body shuddered from the contact, “Did you like that, Y/N?” He slapped your ass again, adding a red welt to the other cheek.

“Mhmm. Do it again, Sammy.” Your plea was followed up by a dulcet hum.

His palm came down harder, leaving a sharp sting, “Your pussy is fucking dipping, babe. She loves it.” He rubbed his hands over your flesh, soothing the skin, “Let’s see just how wet she can get.”

You heard the sound of his zipper right before he was pushing into you. He had a tight grip on your hip, filling you slowly, “Oh god, baby. You feel so fucking good.” You dropped your face to the mattress, allowing the thick comforter to muffle your loud groan.

His hips began snapping into you, the thunderous sounds filling the room, “I feel better than him, don’t I?” His tone was mocking and you were sure he was looking directly at Jake as he spoke, “I know just how to spoil your sweet pussy…make her cry for me.” He was pounding into you, making it impossible for you to utter anything other than pitched cries.

You felt the bed shake a bit before a hand was twirling around your ponytail to lift your head from the blanket, “I’ll give you something better to muffle those sounds, beautiful.” Jake sat back on his heels, resting just close enough that your mouth was right over his dick, “Open up, baby.” He knotted the hair around his fist, lowering your head back down. You parted your lips, letting him slide into your mouth with ease, “You’re listening so well tonight. Being so good for us.” He allowed you to bob your head, taking him slowly as you moaned around his length. After a few moments, he pressed down on the back of your head, holding it in place as he hit your throat. Tears filled your eyes, gags heaving from the depths of your esophagus as you attempted to push yourself off of him, “Ahh. Sam, grab her hands.” Sammy hooked his hands around your elbows, pulling them behind your back, his thrusts never faltering. Jake lifted your face from his cock, watching proudly as you fought for a breath, more saliva dripping from your mouth with every gasping cough, “Go ahead and breathe, baby.” He gave you a few more seconds before bringing your mouth back, gliding along your tongue as he dragged your head up and down on him.

“Shit… Everytime you make her gag she fucking squeezes me so tight.” Sam’s voice was low and husky, breaking through the groans in his chest, “You’re so fucking close, babe. I can feel it.” He pulled harder on your arms, forcing an arch to your back and eliciting a loud wail from you at the changed angle. His cock was hammering into your g-spot, winding the coil tighter and tight with each pass.

Jake pulled you from his length again and released your hair, “Let her down a little bit, Sam, just a few inches.” He waited for his brother to comply, loosening his hold on your arms. You watched him stroke himself through blurry vision, “Your tongue, Y/N…” His free hand went to the back of your head, guiding your mouth to his balls. You stuck your tongue out, lapping at them hungrily before sucking them into the warmth of your mouth and moaning around them, “That’s- Oh fuck, baby. That mouth is heaven.” His breathing picked up along with the pumping of his hand, “You think we should fill her up, Sammy?” You could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t going to last much longer, “Think she earned it?”

“I think we earned it, brother.” Sam spoke through gritted teeth, “But she’s there, Jake. Any second…”

You let him fall from your mouth, “Pleeeease. I need it, please let me cum.” You pouted up at Jake, begging for the release, “I’ve been good, Jakey, please.” Your moans were becoming more desperate with every stroke of Sam’s dick.

He brushed the loose hairs from your face, “Swallow all of me and Sam will let you have it, pretty girl, I promise.” You gave a weak nod, ready to explode at any given moment. Jake was sliding back into your mouth in an instant, “I could stay here forever, you do so fucking well, baby.” He was guiding your head up and down but when you sucked your cheeks in, tightly suctioning your mouth around him, that was it, “Y/N, fuck-.” He sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, his cock twitching frantically against your tongue, “Jesus, I- Fucking take it, baby. All of it.” He drove into the back of your throat, cursing under his breath as he held you in place, spilling into your mouth. Jake watched in awe as you gulped him down without a problem, savoring every last drop. He shuddered as he pulled you from his cock with an incredulous stare, “I don’t think anybody could ever compare to you…” He caught the pained expression on your face as you silently prayed for your own orgasm, “Let her have it, Sammy.” His thumb just barely ghosted over your lip when Sam was yanking you up by your arms.

“You’re so close, babe. Just let me have it.” He was in your ear, speaking through grunts as he slammed into you.

The sound of your cries was drowned out by the blood thrumming through your ears as the tension finally broke, “Sammy. Oh fuck, Sammy…” You choked out the words despite the fire spreading through your entire body, “God, I-” Your words were cut off by the flooding gush that forced Sam out of your cunt.

“No fucking way…” Sam kept a tight grip around your torso as he gaped at the puddle on the floor. He stared in awe for a couple more seconds before letting you drop to the bed to grasp your hips. He slid his cock back into you, only getting a few thrusts in before he was inevitably filling you with his release, muttering mindlessly through his heaving breaths. He carefully slipped out of you, watching his seed leak out, before Jake was distracting him.

“Sam, don’t let go of her! She’s gonna-” He was rushing to pull you onto the bed before your legs buckled beneath you. He tugged you against him, holding you close as he looked at your tired eyes, “She’s fucking spent, man. Go get something to clean her up…and a towel for the floor.”

Sam yanked his shirt over his head, giving it to his brother, “Put her in this. I’ll steal a pair of boxers from Josh’s room.” He waited for Jake to pull the shirt over your head, buttoning his jeans back up, before heading out of the room.

“You okay, baby? We didn’t go too far, did we?” He got your arms through the sleeves as you shook your head with a soft hum and your eyes started to close, “You’re tired, I know… Just wait until Sammy gets back with a washcloth and then we can go straight to sleep, pretty girl.” Your legs were still trembling as you curled into him and he rubbed gentle circles on your back.

Sam came barreling back into the guest room, tripping over his own feet, “I grabbed her some water, I think she lost a lot.” He said it with a chuckle as he dropped a towel over the mess you’d made and climbed onto the bed with the rag, “Here, babe, let me see.” He pushed your legs apart, making quick work of wiping you down, taking extra care around your sensitive bits, “Okay, can you just lift a little bit for me, Y/N?” You watched through barely opened eyes as he dropped the cloth on top of the towel and slid the stolen boxers over your legs. You lifted your hips with Jake’s help, allowing Sammy to secure the waistband in its proper place.

“Alright, baby.” Jake broke away from you to climb off the bed, prompting his younger brother to do the same, “We’re gonna let you rest.” He made sure you were nestled snug into the pillows before pulling the duvet over you.

You felt Sam press his lips to your temple and reached for him before he could pull away, “Stay with me. Both of you.” Your voice was raspy, riddled with sleep already, “Please.” You tugged on his hand, dragging him to lay down with you. Once you felt Sam settle in, you held your hand out to Jake, “Jakey…” You mewled, coaxing him towards you. He finally took your hand, sliding into the blankets beside you. Fully enveloped in the warmth of your two favorite boys, you started to drift, sleep taking you fast.

You felt your body relax into the mattress, the last thing you heard as your consciousness slipped away was Sammy’s voice, laced with an arrogant pride, “I made her fucking squirt, Jake.” . . . . .

[whereisten]

Cry For Me

“There’s something about Mark Lee.”

Summary: There’s something about that Mark Lee. Everyone praises him for his kindness, for his respectfulness, for his easiness. He never shows anger or distain, no, he’s always—always content. So how does he do it? He’s human like the rest of us, surely he must get angry? You know the truth, you see all sides of him, the nation’s dear Mark Lee.

Pairing: Idol Boyfriend!Mark X female reader

Genre: smutt, hm? Yeah just smut and a cute aftercare moment

Warnings: oh boy..BDSM (Dom Mark, hot wax, spanking, handcuffs, electric shock usage, stick flogger, dacryphilia), impregnation/breeding kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, mirror sex, unprotected sex (be safe tho!), c*eam pie, biting..forgive me for my sins

Word Count: 4.6k

(A/N: bro so like Mark is so sweet and so adorable and I couldn’t help but think “what if he’s actually wild behind close doors?🤔” and well..that’s how this was born! Hope you like it! It’s been a while since I’ve written such descriptive smut but it was fun!

———

Mark is a sadistic dacryphiliac. He enjoys taking his anger out on you and watching you cry. 

He’s an idol during the day, and most nights he's the sweetest man you know. But there are some nights when he wants to tear you apart. It’s not that the man the world sees is a facade or mask of who he truly is, it’s just that this man is only possible because of the existence of the man he is on those nights when he gets upset with you. It’s give and take. 

The best part? You love it, you love every side of Mark. You adore his sweet “I’ll make breakfast for you,” “I’ll carry your bags for you,” “I bought 10 bouquets and this $10,000 watch for you,” “let me cuddle you all day” etc. side. You love crying for him and bringing him to paradise, but most of all, you love being the only one to see all sides of him. The evil look in his eyes that you saw some nights was unseen by the rest of the world and you ate it up. 

It’s not like he’d break up with you if you said ‘no’ to his dramatic kink, but the sub in you just wanted to make him happy..by any means. You would watch him work 23 hours a day and still punish himself for not being good enough. You wanted to ease his stress in any way you could, and after one night of riding him until you cried from overstimulation, you both realized that he was more relieved than ever. 

Any worries he had disappeared each and every time after.

Tonight is just one one of those typical nights where Mark desperately needs you to do the thing that relieves his stress. 

He comes home at 9 PM and throws his bag to the ground.

“Y/n…” he whispers before sitting on the edge of the bed and exhaling.

You’re in the shower so you don’t hear him.

“Y/n!”

“Mark? I’ll be out soon.”

“Need you now!” He runs a hand through his hair and based on his tone you already know he’s in *that* mood.

You quickly rinse yourself off and step out of the shower. “I’m coming!”

You say a little bit more aggressively than you intended. You were just frustrated that you couldn’t enjoy your aromatherapy body wash for a little bit longer.

You walk out in your robe. “What’s wrong? Everything okay?”

Mark chuckles. “It smells good here, I see you lit some candles.”

You smile nervously. “Yeah..it’s for my aromatherapy.”

Mark hums, but still hangs his head low.

“Come here.” He pats the spot beside him on the bed.

You sit down and turn to hug him. He embraces you quickly and caresses the nape of your neck with his finger tips.

When you pull away, he stares into your eyes and rubs his thumb along your chin. 

He knits his brows. ““My” aromatherapy? How selfish of you…what about me? Are you gonna do anything for me?”

He pouts and your eyes widen. 

“I-uh- yes of course it’s for us both, that’s why I put them in the bedroom.”

“On your knees.” He frowns.

You instantly get up and kneel before him like he demanded.

“Remember the safe word?” He asks as he stands up and caresses your hair, and then the side of your face.

“Yes.”

“Back straight, don’t you dare change that pose.”

He smiles softly then walks past you to take a shower. He then makes himself something to eat and sits on the couch while watching T.V.

Your knees and back grow tired as you listen to what sounds to be a Twilight movie. 

How long would this take? Couldn’t be any longer than two hours, right? But then once the movie is over, Mark makes himself some popcorn and watches another movie. 

Your body starts to shake as hours go by, you aren’t sure how much longer you can go.

“M-Mark?” You call out his name to see if he’s still awake.

When you don’t receive a reply, you relax your body a bit and slouch over. You start to doze off finally.

Then suddenly, Mark snatches your head back. “Can’t a whore like you listen to basic instructions?” he says huskily.

“I’m so sorry! Please forgive me! I got tired! It’s been so long!” You whine.

“Get up.” He lets your hair go and sits on the edge of the bed again.

It takes you some time to shake off the numbness in your legs, but you manage to stand up.

“Take your robe off.”

He opens your nightstand and takes out a pair of electrified handcuffs..oh yeah, the sweet Mark Lee certainly had his sadistic ways.

These were created to deliver moderate shocks to you any time you tried to break out of them. 

You put your hands in front of you to let him put them on like he’s done for so many nights.

He locks his deep brown eyes with yours. There was something funny about how he maintained his large, innocent eyes while doing such a scandalous thing. The puppy-like expression seen across the world daily is still seen by you now after you’ve kneeled on the hardwood floor for nearly 3 hours just for him.

He pats his thigh and you lay across him in just his boxers with your ass up. He loved that you always knew what he meant. You were such an obedient girl.

“Let’s see how wet you are.”

Without warning, he jabs two fingers into your pussy. You close your legs tightly and cry out.

He places his other hand into the small of your back to hold you down. “Stop fucking squirming.”

He pulls his fingers out and licks them while moaning. “Ahh such a good whore..I think I can still taste my cum from the last time I graced this pussy.”

He puts them in again, deep enough to make you tremble. “Mark! Please! I’ve been a good girl.”

Mark shakes his head. “We’re just getting started, save it.”

He moves his fingers in and out continuously, brushing his thumb against your clit every so often just to feel you clench. You can feel every ridge and the knuckles of his slender fingers. You moan and try to keep yourself from moving your wrists too much.

“Ass up, my arm is tired.”

You kneel over his lap and hold yourself up on your elbows.

“Ride them”

You push yourself forward and backward to ride his fingers and it feels too good. Your moans start to get louder, you can’t control your clenching. It didn’t bother you that your body was sore from staying in one position for hours. You just want to cum on his wonderful fingers. You close your eyes and start to chant “yes.” over and over as you approach your climax.

You don’t notice that Mark has picked up the burning candle on the nightstand. Just as you’re about to cum, Mark pours the wax on your back, causing you to cry out in pain and try to pull out of your handcuffs. Electric jolts are sent through your body instantly and the sensations are all too much to bear.

Mark smirks to himself as he watches you struggle. He wraps an arm underneath you and holds your body still over his lap.

“Mark! Fuck!” You pant as the pain starts to subside.

“You would’ve seen that coming if you weren’t getting off on my fingers like that.”

He says lowly. He holds your face in one hand, pushing his fingers and thumb into your cheeks as he watches your eyes fill with tears. 

“Now, go get the mirror.” The “innocent” boy nods.

You stand up on your shaky legs once again and manage to push your standing mirror on wheels over to the edge of the bed.

Mark wraps his arm around your waist and brings you to his lap.

He looks at you through the mirror with a dark, sinister expression.

“Open.”

You spread your legs so that one leg is over his lap and he holds you in his arm. You bend your bound arms and bring your hands to your chest so you can both see.

“Look at that wet cunt..I bet you want me to fill it up right?”

He pinches your nipple, causing you to yelp.

You sniffle. “Y-yes.”

With his other hand, he takes a stick flogger from the nightstand drawer and starts to drag it up your thigh.

You fidget.

“Wanna walk around swollen with my babies? Everyone will know that you’re my whore, is that what you want?”

He teases your entrance with the tip of the flogger as he whispers in your ear. He nibbles on your neck then delivers a sharp slap to your clit.

You yelp.

“Huh?” He slaps you again, this time, leaving the leather tip on your clit and moving it in circles.

“Mhm.” You close your eyes tightly at the mix of plain and pleasure you’re receiving.

“Open your mouth slut. Do you want me to fill you up?” The question is followed by another slap.

“Yes! Ah!”

Mark chuckles. “That’s what I thought.”

He places the flogger down. And fingers you while staring at your body in the mirror. 

“Gonna watch you take my fingers first. Then, I’ll know if you deserve it.”

“Please..Mark, I do.” You whimper.

“What are you begging for?”

He pumps his fingers in and out, curling the tips into your sweet spot and you can’t help but moan at how sexy he looks with his disheveled hair.

“I’m talking to you, whore.” He pushes his fingers in even deeper, making your body rise up in an effort to get away.

“Don’t run away..a slut like you is used to this.”

“Please..give me your cock, Mark, I’m ready for it.”

“Oh yeah? Don’t cum then, only cum when my cock is in you, okay?”

And this would’ve been possible had Mark not started massaging your clit with his other hand.

His digits draw deep circles as his fingers move in and out. You shut your eyes tightly, for the sight only pushed you closer to the orgasm you needed to keep yourself from having.

“Mark!” Your legs start to shake and threaten to close completely.

“Look at me or this will last all night.”

You open your wet eyes and look back at him through the mirror. He’s start to sweat and his chest is heaving.

He can feel you clenching as your beautiful moans grow louder.

He chuckles. “I should’ve known you’d be a bad girl.” His fingers move faster, you feel the bed grow increasingly wet under you. He slides his fingers in and out before spreading your essence across the entrance. He hums to himself when he sees how wet you are.

“Mark..please, I..I need you..”

Your head falls back onto his shoulder and your breaths become shorter, you’re about to cum and then-

Mark stops moving his fingers and pulls on the short chain of your handcuffs. Your wrists move with them, instantly triggering another shock.

You shake and curse.

Mark digs his nails into your side as he holds you still. “A slut like you deserves that.”

“Fuck..oh my god.” You cry.

“Lay down.”

You lay down on the bed and silently thank the heavens for the comfort against your back.

“On your stomach.”

You sigh and turn over.

You hope that he will take you now and bring you both to your long awaited climaxes, but you know that he isn’t ready quite yet. You’d have to do some more crying and begging first.

He slaps your ass hard. Your body jolts in response.

“Going against my orders?”

He spanks you harder.

“That’s not very nice.”

He leans over and grabs the candle again, pouring the wax onto your back once more.

“Mark!” You scream in the bed.

He only grabs your hair and pulls your head back. He bites into your neck.

“Fuck!” You whimper.

He pours hot wax onto your shoulder. He then puts the candle back and resumes spanking your ass. His attacks are harsh and cause tears to finally start flowing down your face.

“Mark..please.” You beg through sniffles.

“What is it you want now?”

He brings your lower half up off of the bed and spanks your clit.

“Baby..please fuck me.”

He flips your body over and spanks your clit again.

“I’m so tired and I need you..” you beg again.

“Is that so?” He spanks you hard. His fingers then dip inside your pussy. 

“I’m tired too, you know? Having to practice all fucking day long just to hear that we’re nowhere near ready for our concert in two days…yeah, I guess you could say I’m tired.”

You nod. “I’m sorry, Mark.”

“But it’s okay, that’s what you’re here for, right? Just let me play with you and it will all be okay. I’m making you cry and beg like a good little slut.”

You nod again. “Yes, I want to make you feel good. Please..I’m ready.”

Mark laughs to himself and he continues to pump his fingers in between your walls. “Silly girl, I don’t need to put my dick in you to feel good. I feel great right now.”

He lowers his face to your pussy and breathes against it.

“When you’re a mess like this, you’ve already made me feel amazing.”

He licks a long stripe along your entrance before burying his nose onto your clit. He fixes your legs over his shoulders by bending them at the knees.

Your head falls back into the pillow as your stomach sinks.

Only you knew that the talents of Mark’s mouth extended beyond his rapping and singing abilities. His lips and tongue made you dizzy every time.

And tonight was no exception. He lapped up the juices that leaked out of you earlier like he needed it to survive.

He moaned against you, sending vibrations through your core. He moved his tongue in circular fast motions before sucking your clit. His soft plump lips kissed your skin with haste.

It didn’t take long for you to cum all over his mouth. 

You cried out his name as he kept going, his tongue never stopped its rhythmic pace. It was constant and left you feeling open and raw, but in need of more. He didn’t even have to add his fingers, his tongue and lips were enough.

“Cum for me again, slut.”

And you did. You shut your eyes tightly and arched your back.

Mark tapped your clit with his finger tips relentlessly now while licking your entrance. The attack was too much. You were overly sensitive and so dizzy you forgot about the handcuffs. You reached down to push his head away, but ended up receiving an intense shock. Your body twisted on the bed, but Mark was unfazed.

“Mark!” You called out loudly, not caring if the neighbors, i.e the other members, heard you.

He tugged your skin in between his teeth.

“Stop making so much noise..or do you want me to fuck you on the balcony for everyone to hear?”

You clenched and moaned at his threat.

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you? I’ll breed you up nicely right in front of everyone.” He chuckled. He continued to tap onto your clit while looking up at you through hooded eyes.

“Baby..please…I can’t...it’s too much.” 

“Yeah you can..one more..for me..” 

His tongue goes in even deeper and your eyes begin to roll in the back of your head.

To Mark’s satisfaction, you squirt this time while he continues to tap.

“Good girl.”

You’re so sensitive, you cry and carefully bring your hands up to your face to try to hide it.

He kneels and licks his lips before chuckling.

“No no no..don’t hide your pretty face from me. As a matter of fact, I want you to see it too. On your knees.”

You get on your trembling knees and position yourself in front of the mirror.

He approaches you from behind, sneaking his hand from your warm butt cheek all the way up to your hair. He grabs a fistful of it and pushes you down into the bed.

He brings your ass up as he kneels behind you. You can feel his hard cock against your thigh and swallow hard.

“Look at me.”

You lift your head up and look at his handsome face through the mirror.

You lock eyes as he pushes into you slowly, so slowly you struggle to keep your eyes open and head straight.

You arch your back in an attempt to get more from his length, but it doesn’t work. If he keeps going at this painful speed, you’re bound to end up crying.

“My little whore is getting all nice and stretched out. It’s still so tight..fuck.” He says with a low tone that you loved. You clench and he pulls out immediately and spanks you hard for it.

You fall into the bed, but resume your position right away.

“Not yet..you’re greedy.”

You look up to see his lips slightly parted while his chest rises and falls slowly. The intense glare told you if you did that again, you’d surely regret it.

“I’m sorry.”

Mark smirks and continues to bring your body onto his dick slowly. You were always so beautiful from every angle, but this position was one of his favorites. 

He could stare at your smooth back and ass, and the way it took him in like it was nothing, he could grab your hair and hear you whimper as you took his back shots, and he could watch your weepy eyes through the mirror as you begged for him over and over with just his name on your mind. 

A part of him did like the idea of people, or more specifically, the other members watching him fuck you like this. They had no idea he could get this rough, and based on your usual sassy attitude, they had no idea you could be so obedient and desperate for him.

He nearly cums from the thought of them watching you cry and push him away as he forced his offspring into you. 

You wondered how he was able to hold himself back after all this time, but Mark was a talented man. There truly was no limit to what he could do.

You still look at him through the mirror but your eyes start to grow tired and he notices.

“Count how many times I push into you..”

You nod. “One..”

He pulls out after a few seconds, and you’re about to say ‘two’ but he takes his time.

He chuckles as he watches you bite your bottom lip and furrow your brows. “So anxious..relax.”

“Two.” You whine as you feel every vein and ridge on his length. The curve and girth alone made you see stars.

You continue until you get to Ten and it feels like it’s taken you 8 minutes to get there and while it may not sound like a long time, it was definitely painful.

“M-Mark..faster please..” you can feel your core throbbing and pleading for satisfaction again.

“Okay..”

And Mark does go faster but he goes harder as well, finger tips digging into your hips as he drives into the depths of your pussy with each thrust.

“15! 16! 17!” You cry out.

He leans over you and behinds to fuck into your body doggie style. He reaches around and presses two fingers into your clit again.

“Fuck! I wanna cum with you, baby.”

You watch him as he smirks, for he knows that you were much further along than he was.

He pulls your body up in front of his so you can see his fingers working on your clit in the mirror.

His thrusts stop as you begin to ride him on your own. You go forward slightly and anchor yourself on your palms as you let your body take his cock at its own tempo. Your mouth falls open as you pant.

“You’re so fucking desperate for my seed huh?” He whispers into your ear, his fingertips draw smaller circles with more pressure.

“Yes! Yes, Mark! I’m gonna-l”

He pinches your nipple hard as you cum. You cry out while trying to pick yourself up from his dick but he continues to thrust into you fast.

“Have you lost count?” He says calmly.

“I’m sorry..l” you sob.

“Don’t apologize, we’ll just start over.”

And so you did. Mark made you lie down again, this time with you staring at your face upside down in the mirror as he ate you out.

You came over and over, despite trying to push his head away. He sucks and tugs on your clit to drive you insane.

“One more time..” he’d say after every orgasm you had. “You were so greedy earlier, I just wanna make sure you get enough.” But really, it was like he was the one that couldn’t get enough.

“Mark please, I can’t..Can’t take any more.”

He pauses his attack and lifts himself up over your face while licking his red and swollen lips. He smirks and suddenly pulls on your handcuffs.

A high pitched noise leaves you and your back arches when you feel the jolt of pain.

“Go ahead and cry, you know it makes me cum faster.”

He goes back to licking every part of your pussy like his life depends on it.

You cried for nearly 10 minutes after. Your knees and arms grew tired.

“M-Mark..” you barely croaked out.

“Mmm so good.. I guess I should fuck you now.” He wipes his mouth with his arm and brings a leg over his shoulder while kneeling.

He entered you once again. This time, your body moved limply on the bed. You had no more energy to call out his name. You cried from sensitivity for too long. All you knew was that it felt good to have him inside you. He was the perfect fit.

“Fuck…” he moans at the sight of you fucked out and in tears.

He thrusts into you harder and watches your breasts move with satisfaction.

He leans down to bite a nipple. “Your breasts are gonna be so swollen.”

“Ahh!” You moan.

He starts to go faster and you lean forward with both hands in handcuffs still to run your fingers along his abs and pelvis. His thrusts start to become painfully rough. He stretches you out even more and you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

“Slower..baby..please.” You whine.

He shakes his head. Mark goes in and out of you forcefully as he watches you below him, hypnotizing him with your pretty wet eyes, gorgeous breasts and heaving stomach.

You could only think of his name while you held his eye contact.

He smirks, watching you go silly for him. Your cheeks are completely wet from tears and it makes him ridiculously hot, but to get him to the edge he has to see you cry just one more time. He pulls the chain on the handcuffs and watches you scream.

“Mark!”

Your eyes shut tightly as you shook in pain.

Mark’s eyes widen as he watches tears overflow within seconds and that’s all he needs. You try once more to wiggle away from him, but fail. 

“I can’t! C-Can’t!” You whimper through sniffles and shake your head. You’re completely ruined from the shocks and overwhelming pleasure. You clench and moan as your head falls back.

He jams himself into your pussy faster and harder while holding your hip down firm. He shakes his head and growls.

“Take it! Don’t fucking run away from me.”

“M-Mark..please.” Your tears are endless now and he finally releases into you at the sight.

You’re so close to blacking out, but you don’t. You hear Mark’s glorious moans and praises as he cums deep inside you, his tip curving right onto your sweet spot. “Fuck..so good. This pussy is so good. Don’t let anything escape, okay?”

He moves just a few more times to ensure that you’re stuffed with all he has to offer finally. You wanted him to fill you up and in true Mark fashion, he refused to disappoint.

He collapses onto the bed beside you and pants.

“Shit..”

“Fuck..that was good.” you exhale.

He leans over and takes the handcuffs off. He throws them to the floor, then brings your face to his and kisses you deeply.

“You did so well, thank you.” He whispers while wiping your tears.

“You’re amazing, Mark. I love you.”

You manage to utter even though your voice is almost gone after yelling his name all night.

He kisses your forehead and leans over you on his elbow. “I love you too. How are you feeling? Did I go too hard?” 

You laugh and shake your head. “Nah..I could’ve said the safe word, but I didn’t need to. You’re so hot when you get like this.”

He smirks. “Can’t believe you like this..you’re just as twisted as I am.”

You both laugh. “Well, I don’t know about that.. but you’ve been getting pretty brave with the baby thing.”

He gets up and grabs a washcloth. He takes his time and wipes you up with it. “Mhmm..and you get wetter every time…” the corner of his mouth pulls up into a sly smile.

You chuckle and relax your head into the pillow as he cleans you . “Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll get off the pill..let’s see if you’re still excited to say all that.”

“Of course, baby, I mean it, you know that.” He kisses your ear and goes back to the bathroom.

“So about what you said earlier…did the manager say you’re not ready?”

Mark sighs when he walks back in. “Yeah..”

“It’ll be okay, Mark. You guys have been working hard for months.”

“Yeah I’m just disappointed in myself. I know I can do better.”

“What on earth are you talking about? You’re amazing at what you do. Years of experience doesn’t just go away for one night, you got this.” You caress the side of his face.

He nods. “Thank you.”

“The fans love you! You could go on stage and sing a terrible rendition of My Heart Will Go on and they’d still love you. So don’t worry about it.”

He lays back down beside you as he smiles. “I’m not worried about it anymore..I think I just needed to see you beg for me.”

You laughed out loud. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m just one of hundreds of thousands of fans begging for you.” You look into his eyes and kiss his lips.

“Yeah…I guess you’re right.” 

“Ugh..don’t get cocky.” You tease while running your fingers through his hair.

“Let’s go to sleep. We can do some aromatherapy tomorrow together.”

You hug each other, with your head resting on Mark’s chest, and fall asleep soon after.