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bro-atz · 8 months

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absence makes the heart break

in which: san broke your heart when he suddenly left you, and just when you've finally moved on, he reappears in your life in a way you couldn't even fathom in your wildest dreams

pair: san/afab!reader (ft. wooyoung/afab!reader)

word count: 8k

content: a lot of angst, fluff, a lot of smut, break up sex, one last time sex, romantic sex, taboo sex, sofa/couch sex x2???, raw sex x3??? (remember to wrap up irl pls), heart break, opportunistic infidelity, love triangle???, completely consensual!

author's note: tbh i'm definitely evil for writing this, but i'm in my villain era so let's break some hearts hehe... i og just wanted this to be a "the one that got away" trope, and then my fingers just took me on a wildly different journey, so here we are... don't kill me pls and thx ily xoxo thank you choy @chokchokk for the idea hehe

tag list: @k-hotchoisan apply for the permanent taglist here!

You and San had been dating for two years— the two of you met right after graduating from college and clicked almost immediately. After one year of dating, he moved into your place, and after two years, things changed suddenly.

You got home from work one day to see all of San’s suitcases by the door. You looked around and saw that pretty much all of his personal belongings were no longer in their spots. You stared at the place in shock— what the fuck was going on? There weren’t any problems in your relationship that you could think of, and San didn’t show any signs that he was unhappy in the relationship. The two of you even talked about having a kid for crying out loud.

“San?” you called out into the apartment. “What’s going on?”

There was no response. You walked around the apartment and looked for him, only to find him in the bedroom. He turned to look at you, and you immediately saw his red, teary eyes. He had been crying.

“Y/N, you’re home early,” he said softly.

“San, what the hell is going on? Why are all of your things by the door?” you asked, your own voice starting to waver.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore… I think we should break up.”

“W-what? San, I don’t understand—”

“I wrote it all in the letter…” San stated as he pointed to the letter on the bed. “I didn’t think you’d come home so soon. I was hoping to slip out while you were at work.”

“Why?!”

“I have to go home for a while. I don’t know how long, and there’s a lot of things I have to work through, so I don’t feel right being in a relationship where I can’t give you the attention you deserve. I’m sorry, Y/N…”

“Sannie, I can help you! That’s what relationships are all about—”

“No, you can’t. You have a life here, Y/N. I can’t just expect you to drop everything just to be with me… Even if we try long distance, I know that you can be there for me, but I won’t be able to be there for you. You deserve to be with someone who can reciprocate, and that person is just not me right now.”

San walked past you and out of the bedroom, but you caught his arm before he could go any further. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks as his back faced you.

“San,” you cried. “Don’t do this… Please… I love you so much. Don’t break up with me.”

You hugged San from behind. At first, he was motionless, but he eventually turned in your arms and hugged you back. He hugged you tightly and dropped his head, his lips by your ear. You heard his voice crack slightly as he whispered, “I love you, too, Y/N. I love you so, so, so much…”

“We don’t have to break up,” you mumbled into his chest. You leaned back and looked into his eyes as you said, “Let me be there for you. We’ll go through it together, and I promise I’ll be there for you even if you can’t be there for me. We can make it work! I’ll just come visit you in your hometown every other weekend.”

“But that’s not fair to you, Y/N… You’d be putting in so much effort, and I wouldn’t be able to do that at all. Then, you’d grow to resent me for not putting more effort into our relationship. I’d rather break up with you now because I can’t stand the idea of you breaking up with me because you hate me.”

“I won’t hate you, San. I love you. I will always love you… We don’t know how the future will turn out! I’d rather stay together and be hopeful.”

“Y/N, I have to go, and I don’t know how long I’ll have to be gone for…” He pulled himself out of your embrace. He cupped your cheeks and wiped the tears staining your cheeks. “This is how it has to be.”

You place your hands over his and hold onto him. When he moved his hands away from your face, you immediately held onto his shoulders and pulled him, your lips meeting his. Your hand rested on the back of his neck and on his shoulder as you kissed him passionately, tears still rolling down your cheeks. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you into him. The two of you kissed and held onto each other desperately as you re-entered the bedroom.

San sat on the bed while you straddled him. You ran your fingers through his hair and clutched his roots as you felt his tongue dive further into your mouth. His fingers slipped under your blouse and held onto your waist, his cold fingers sending goosebumps down your spine. When his nails brushed past the small of your back to move to your bra and unhook it, you moved closer to him, a muffled moan leaving your lungs. San released your lips, a thin string of saliva connecting your tongues. The string broke when San moved his head down, his nose brushing against your jaw as he targeted the skin on your neck. You leaned your head backwards as breathy moans escaped your body.

You gripped the collar of San’s sweater and pulled upwards, indicating to San that you wanted him to start stripping. He moved away from you slightly to do so, messing up his hair and revealing a white tank top, which he promptly removed to reveal his defined chest and broad shoulders. Even with his messy hair covering his eyes, you could still see the sorrow in them. His lips were slightly parted as he looked up at you, practically begging you to kiss him; and when you brought your lips to his, he kissed you passionately and desperately, which you loved but at the same time did not want him to do so because it meant that he really was going to leave.

San helped you out of your blouse and pulled your bra off almost immediately so his hands could cup your breasts. He planted his lips on one of your breasts and sucked hard, making you hold onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as his teeth nibbled on your nipple. You gasped loudly when his fingers tugged on your other nipple.

While San got busy with your breasts, turning you on to the max, you unconsciously gyrated your hips on his lap. Your panties were getting incredibly wet, and San was getting harder by the second, making you grind on him even more. San moaned lightly when you pushed your waist against his, his hands moving from your breasts to your ass. He sucked your other breast while slipping his fingers past the waistband of your pants then sliding your pants downwards.

Wordlessly, the two of you removed your pants when you stood up for a brief moment. The second the two of you were completely naked, you straddled him once more, his dick pressing against your clit and stomach. Neither of you said a single word as you held his dick delicately in your hands, adjusting the both of you before sitting down, his cock filling you up. San’s hands held onto your ass as you began to move, his hands assisting you. You moved slowly at first, allowing you to lock lips with the man you loved.

Whimpers, moans, and groans echoed in the room the more you bounced on San’s dick. At some point, he leaned backwards, his back pressing against the bed. Your chest pressed against his as you continued to fuck him, his hips bucking upwards to thrust his penis further and harder into you. You gasped and bit back cries as you felt him rub against your g-spot repeatedly, bringing you to orgasm. Shortly after, you heard San grunt loudly as he slammed your waist against his, his cock trembling inside you as he came. He remained inside you as the two of you rested and caught your breath.

That moment lasted only seconds before San turned you over so that your back was pressed against the bed. He moved your legs upwards so that your calves rested on his shoulders, his dick still deep inside you. He moved slowly and gently at first, and he was still sitting upright. You held your arms out for him, and he lowered himself, your hands immediately moving to hold the back of his neck so you could get yet another taste of his sweet lips. He moved to his elbows while you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to move faster and harder.

San kept up a slower tempo at first, but he slammed his waist into yours repeatedly, your ass stinging a little because of the impact. The pain immediately subsided the more you kissed him, though, until you felt a tear slip out of your eye. San lips left yours as he moved upwards slightly, the two of you gazing at each other. San’s eyes were also misty from what you saw. More tears slipped out of your eyes the longer you stared at San’s face. He wiped the tears from your eyes, but that didn’t stop you from crying, which made him start crying, too. You felt one of his tears land on your cheek, but before any more could fall, he moved back and sped up his thrusts exponentially, quickly bringing you to orgasm, but you were only able to squirt properly after San came again and pulled out, both your arousal fluid and San’s cum leaking out of your pussy.

With a light exhale, San laid down on the bed next to you. He laid his arm out so you could use his arm as a pillow, his other hand cupping your face and wiping tears from your cheek.

“Angel,” San whispered, making you cry all over again because that was the first time all day he had called you by his nickname for you. “Angel, please don’t cry.”

“How can I not cry when you’re going to leave me?” you whispered while crying. “You’re the love of my life, Sannie. I don’t want to break up. Let’s stay together… You do what you need to do, but still be my love, please…”

“Y/N…”

“Please, San. Please.”

San let out a sad exhale. He sat up and said, “Let’s get cleaned up first, okay?”

You nodded slowly and sat up with his assistance. The two of you went to the bathroom and took a shower together, but while usually you two would indulge in shower sex, you couldn’t bring yourself to even look him in the eye. He scrubbed you and himself down as you stood somewhat motionless. Neither of you said a word.

After toweling off and tossing the soiled sheets into the hamper, you and San got into bed. You held onto him tightly in fear that he was going to leave if you didn’t. He pet your hair and left soft kisses all over your face, but you didn’t respond to that because you knew that was him trying to say goodbye. You moved your head down and pressed it against his chest, not allowing him to kiss your face at that point. He settled for pressing his lips lightly against the top of your head before burying his nose in your hair.

“Angel, how about this,” he said quietly. “I won’t leave until the morning, okay?”

You didn’t want him to leave at all. You remained quiet as you thought about his proposition.

“I’ll stay here tonight and sleep with you, then I’ll leave in the morning.”

If he was going to leave in the morning, maybe you could wake up before him and keep him from leaving by hiding his things or just latching onto him and not letting go.

“Okay,” you accepted. “I love you so much, my San.”

San kissed the top of your head once more before resting his chin on your head and hugging you closer. “I love you, too, my angel… My Y/N.”

You woke up to an extremely cold bed. You immediately sat up and looked around. San was not in the bedroom. You leapt out of bed and ran to the front door to see that all of his suitcases were no longer there.

“San?” you called out into the empty apartment. “San?!”

No response. You ran through the apartment searching for him, but there wasn’t a single trace of him anywhere. You fell to your knees and bawled. San really did leave.

Little did you know, San was standing in front of the apartment still. If you had just opened the front door, you would have been able to catch him, but you didn’t know that. San pressed his head against the door as he heard you wailing his name, tears falling rapidly from his eyes, and he continued to cry the whole way back to his hometown.

The following days, weeks, months, you texted San everyday— good morning texts, good night texts, happy holiday, happy birthday, and many, many, many “I love you”s and “I miss you”s; and no matter how much you texted him, you never got a single reply from him. You tried for a year. You even tried to find his hometown so you could get him back by going in person, but you didn’t know where or how to find his hometown. His friends were no help, too. He ghosted them as well. He ghosted everyone.

You wanted to wait for San. You knew that he would come back to you at some point and that you would be able to live your happily ever after with him. But, you didn’t know how long he was going to take. You didn’t know if he ever would show up again.

The thought of growing old and dying alone scared you. You didn’t want to be alone. You wanted someone to love you and be there for you— and that’s when you finally understood what San was saying. You were so lonely without him, and if the two of you were still dating, he still wouldn’t be able to be there for you when you needed him to. So, after one year of waiting for him, you gave up. You couldn’t wait for him any longer; you couldn’t be alone any longer.

You distracted yourself to the best of your ability. You spent more time at work, working well into the night despite the fact that you really didn’t need to. You hung out with your friends often, but you couldn’t keep that up for long because your friends were in their own relationships, and their romantic relationships were more important (and you didn’t blame them because you were the same when you were dating San).

One weekend morning, you went on a walk. Your mind was blank— you spent the entire night before just crying about San and looking at old pictures of the two of you, his favorite movie playing in the background. So, in the morning, you were a zombie. You woke up to see that it was still dark out, but the sun was starting to come up. Your body moved before your mind could process, and you were outside waiting for the sunrise.

You were walking along the sidewalk on a bridge, and you stopped right in the middle of the bridge to look at the horizon. There were a few runners and cyclists and elders out to enjoy the air before the day truly started, and they continued to pass you as you waited for the sun.

A man out on a jog ran past you, only to stop dead in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder and saw you. The sky was bathed in shades of orange and pink, and you looked so beautiful among it. The wind was in your hair, your lips were slightly parted, and you were just staring out at the scenery in front of you while the man stared at the scenery before him.

When you ran your fingers through your hair to brush it back, he saw your eyes. Your eyes were red and puffy, and they were still filled with sadness. You were leaning a little too far over the railing, which also scared the shit out of him. He walked towards you and leaned onto the railing himself, startling you slightly, which made you take a step away from the railing.

“Hi,” he said with a beautiful smile.

“Hi…”

He turned his head and looked at the rising sun. He continued to look into the distance as he spoke.

“The sunrise is gorgeous, isn’t it?”

“Yeah… It is…”

“Did you know sunrises and sunsets are brighter after a rainstorm?”

He looked at you, and you shook your head in response— you didn’t know that. He turned his head back to the sky and looked at the universe with a smile. You stared at his side profile. He was handsome, and he looked so beautiful and radiant in the colors of the sunrise. It was as if the sun rose just for him.

“Rainstorms clear up the sky, so the colors are more vibrant because of the clear sky. Sometimes, it needs to rain so the colors can pop and be more lovely,” he explained. Then, he broke into a wide grin and looked at you again, his eyes turning into crescents. “Nature works in beautiful ways. It’s amazing.”

You were speechless. You stood and stared at the man and took in all of his beauty. Nature did work in beautiful ways because it created the sparkling, lovely person in front of you. His smile got softer as he turned to face you. He held his hand out and introduced himself.

“I’m Jung Wooyoung.”

You took his hand.

“Y/N.”

You fell for Wooyoung. You fell hard. Every single moment with him was bright and happy, and you completely forgot about your heartbreak as you spent more and more time with him. You would go on cute dates like in the park or at the movie theatre— and the two of you would go movie hopping until you got kicked out— or to get ice cream or to an amusement park, but he would also take you to ultra fancy restaurants and rooftop bars and speakeasies. He was such a man of duality, having the cutest and most fun personality while also being a successful president of a company, but you loved it. You loved him.

One year flew by. In that one year, Wooyoung asked you to move in with him, and you did. Living with him was chaotic, but you expected that at the least because Wooyoung was chaotic and unpredictable, but always in a good way. You didn’t know how he was going to surprise you or make you laugh next.

On the second year anniversary of the first time the two of you met, you woke up to Wooyoung shaking you at five in the morning.

“Wooyoung, honey, I love you, but it is too early in the morning for this shit,” you grumbled as you turned in bed and pulled the blanket over your head.

“Please, pumpkin? Sweetie? Cutie? Baby? Lovely?” Wooyoung showered you with all the cute nicknames he had for you as he knelt by the side of the bed and kissed your face all over.

“Ugh, fine,” you complained, but you had the biggest smile on your face. “One of these days, your cute act is not going to work on me.”

“Well, today is not that day. So get up! Get dressed! Let’s go!”

“Get dressed?! At five in the morning?!” you were in complete disbelief.

“Believe me, you’ll be glad you did.”

Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you looked at what Wooyoung was wearing. He was wearing the button-up you loved most on him along with the tie and tie clip you got him for his birthday. So, you wore clothes to match his… At five in the fucking morning.

He held your hand as the two of you walked through the city, the streetlights illuminating your path. It was still very dark outside. The two of you walked all the way to a bridge— the bridge where you first met. Your heart raced. And once you saw his friend standing in the middle of the bridge with a camera, you immediately got a sense of what Wooyoung was going to do.

Right at the middle of the bridge as the sun started to rise, Wooyoung got down on one knee. He held your hand. He told you how much he loved you and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life showering you with that love because you were everything to him. You cried. He took out the wedding ring, and you said yes. He kissed you, the sky red, orange, and pink. The pictures of the two of you before the sunrise turned out beautiful and vibrant. Nature really did work in beautiful ways.

You sat on the couch in the living room reading through one of the bridal magazines your friend lent to you. After Wooyoung proposed, he said he wanted to get married sooner rather than later, so you decided to get married on the day you first kissed, which was four months after the first time you met.

“Hi, baby,” Wooyoung greeted you with a kiss when he got home from work.

“Welcome home, honey,” you said in response, Wooyoung’s lips immediately pulling into a wide grin.

“God, I love when you say that. It makes me feel like we’re already married,” he giggled.

Wooyoung set his bag down in the kitchen before immediately joining you on the couch. He hugged your waist and nuzzled his nose into the nook of your neck before his eyes shifted to see the magazine.

“You’d look beautiful in that dress, and that dress, and that one, and that,” Wooyoung said as he flipped through the pages. “Honestly, Y/N, you’re already so beautiful normally. The dress would just be a complete knockout for me. Don’t wear one.”

“What, you want me to marry you naked?” you teased him.

Wooyoung’s face went red— he was definitely imagining it. “No, because I don’t want anyone else looking at you naked. Only me.”

You giggled and kissed his cheek lightly, but that wasn’t enough for your fiancé. He kissed your lips. A passionate kiss. One that made your fingers and toes tingle. His fingers got tangled in your hair as he gripped your roots tightly, his kisses getting more intense with every passing second. He took the magazine out of your hands and tossed it behind him somewhere, your hands free to hold onto his shirt so you could work on the buttons. His shirt fell to the ground, then yours, and your pants and underwear flew off your bodies in record time.

Wooyoung had you pinned to the black leather couch. His lips trailed along your exposed skin, leaving light pink marks in their wake. You sighed pleasurably when Wooyoung kissed your neck, his hands kneading your breasts simultaneously. You felt his knee press between your legs and rub subtly, stimulating your clit. Tiny gasps and moans escaped you the more he played with your body.

While you enjoyed his foreplay, you wanted more from him. Your arms wrapped around his body and pulled him closer, silently telling him to fuck you. There was a slight smirk on Wooyoung’s face as he positioned himself and slowly entered you, making you gasp loudly.

“Shit, you’re so tight, baby…” Wooyoung sharply inhaled as he pushed himself all the way in.

Wooyoung moved slowly at first, the friction between his cock and your cunt making electricity zap through your nerves. He kept moving at that steady pace of his, but his waist hit yours powerfully every time, and you loved it.

“Mmm, f-feels good,” you barely managed to say before biting your lower lip and narrowing your eyes slightly.

“Fuck, baby… You can’t make that kind of sexy face and expect me to stay calm,” Wooyoung grunted.

“T-then go wild, honey. Fuck me… H-harder!”

His hands held onto your waist firmly as his tempo sped up. You clung onto his veiny arms as you head went back, the pleasure insurmountable. You watched his jaw clench the harder he slapped his hips into yours, your entire body lurching every time he thrust into you. You felt yourself nearly your orgasm as he sped up and slowed down almost randomly, your body unable to keep up with the change in pace.

“I’m gonna cum!” you cried.

Wooyoung immediately pulled out and rushed his middle two fingers into you, his fingers curling and running against your G-spot rapidly, bringing you to orgasm intensely and loudly as you screamed his name.

Mere seconds after the high of your orgasm faded, Wooyoung carefully entered you again, and after about two thrusts, he fucked you fast. His hold on your thighs got firmer, and you could hear his breathing get rougher and faster.

“Baby,” Wooyoung said breathlessly. “Can I cum inside?”

“Fill me up, honey,” you pulled him down by his shoulders. You bit his earlobe gently before whispering, “Give me every last drop of you.”

That did it for him. With one final slam, Wooyoung moaned loudly as he released his entire load inside you, his cock twitching as his seed kept filling you. When he pulled out, his cum leaked out of you, and Wooyoung loved to see it.

Seconds later, Wooyoung cleaned you and the couch up before wrapping a throw blankets around the two of you. You sat in his lap and held onto his shoulder while combing your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Meanwhile, he traced patterns along your waist and stomach as he told you, “This, this, this… All this. All for me. No one else gets to see it. Only me.”

He leaned into you and trailed his fingertips from the top of your forehead, down your nose, and to your lips.

“And these are exclusively mine. Forever.”

“I’m all yours forever, honey,” you agreed.

Wooyoung cupped your face and kissed you tenderly. You could feel him smile against your lips, making you smile in the process. He moved away slightly and gazed lovingly at you while whispering, “God, I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Wooyoung.”

With a final kiss, Wooyoung got off the couch and pulled on his boxers, roaming the apartment in just his boxers. You watched his butt from the couch and bit your lower lip while imagining taking a bite of his ass.

“Hey, eyes up here,” Wooyoung snapped his fingers and gestured to his eyes.

“Sorry,” you said while not really meaning it. “You have a fine ass, babe.”

“I know that,” he replied while smacking his ass.

You laughed and turned away, your eyes landing on the bridal magazine on the ground. You picked it up and opened it back up to the page you left off on. Wooyoung messed around in the kitchen and began to cook dinner while wearing only boxers.

“Honey, if you’re going to cook like that, you might as well just wear an apron and ditch the boxers,” you teased.

“Buy me a “kiss the chef” apron, and maybe I’ll do it.”

You snickered and returned to your magazine as Wooyoung continued to cook.

“By the way, my friends told me that my best man is going to “kidnap me” for the bachelor party. Just wanted to let you know in case he leaves a ransom note for you.”

“Sounds fun,” you laughed. “Oh, wait… Who is your best man, anyway? You never told me.”

“My best friend from college. San.”

You immediately clutched the magazine hard, the pages getting crumpled in your tight grip, and your heart dropped. You must’ve heard him wrong, or maybe someone else shares the same name because, surely, it’s not… San… Like your former lover San…

“I, um… I’ve never met him?”

“Well, we lost contact right after we graduated, then he went to his hometown because he had to take care of some stuff at home, so he’s been there for a while now… Three years, maybe? But, yeah, we made a pact in college to be each other’s’ best man, so he’s my best man for our wedding.”

You nearly tore the magazine in half. The San Wooyoung was talking about was, in fact, the man who was once the love of your life.

“That’s nice… That he kept his promise…” you said slowly, unsure of what to say because your mind was reeling, and not going to lie, you were getting kind of dizzy. “Well, have fun. I mean, when he kidnaps you… For the party— Um, what day is that, again?”

“Next Thursday.”

“Got it…” you nodded; at least you knew when to not be at home.

Wooyoung hummed cheerily in the kitchen as he continued to obliviously make dinner while you sat on the couch, your heart racing, and your mind spinning just remembering the man you loved deeply, the man that got up and left, the man that broke your heart.

You did a good job of avoiding Wooyoung and his groomsmen until the day of the wedding. Wooyoung didn’t expect a thing because your friends would whisk you away in the name of some wedding mishap, but they couldn’t do that for you at the actual wedding itself. You just had to figure out a way to avoid making eye contact with him and avoid being left alone with him.

You stood on the bridal raiser and smoothed out your dress before turning and checking the back of your dress to the best of your ability. You were all alone in the dressing room by that point because your bridesmaids and mother ran out— they were putting the finishing touches on all the small little details (which you didn’t really care about but they cared a whole lot so you gave them your blessing to go do what they needed to do).

Hanging on the mirror in front of you was your veil. You totally forgot about your veil. You picked it up and attempted to put it in your hair by yourself without messing up your hair. You nearly ruined your hair entirely when the door to the room opened and closed suddenly.

“Hey, Woo, I’ve got the rings and—”

You turned to see your fiancé’s best man. The two of you froze. You locked eyes and stared at each other, your heart sinking.

“No way…” you whispered to yourself.

Your fingers went numb, and you dropped the veil. You continued to stare at him as San smiled at you. His smile was still gorgeous, and he still had those beautiful dimples that you loved so fucking much. Your heart clenched as you observed him act as if everything was okay.

“Hi, Y/N. It’s been a while.”

You remained silent.

“You look nice… Very beautiful.”

“Um, thank you…”

San walked towards you slowly. You desperately wanted to move away, but you were frozen in place. He stood right before you and picked up the fallen veil before offering you his hand to help you off the bridal raiser— he seemed to realize that you were stuck up there. You hesitantly placed your hand in his and carefully stepped down from the raiser, only to forget that you were wearing heels. Your heel immediately tipped to the side as you got down, making you fall right into his arms.

San caught you securely and wrapped his arms around you while you tried to get your footing again, the veil falling to the ground once again. Despite the fact that you regained your balance and tried to move away from him, the man still hugged you tightly.

“San,” you choked out, his name foreign on your tongue. “San, let go…”

“Can we please just… let’s stay here a little longer…”

You let out a tiny, sad sigh. You felt awkward with his arms just around you and you standing still, so you (made a huge mistake and) hugged him back lightly at first. You didn’t realize how familiar his hugs would feel after three years of not seeing him and you found yourself sinking into his embrace. You missed his broad shoulders, the way he would press his head gently against yours, the way his fingers would press gently into the small of your back, and the way he smelled. God, he always smelled so wonderful, and that smell brought you back to three years ago when he made you the happiest person alive, bringing tears to your eyes. You did your best to suppress the tears, though, because your goddamn bridal makeup— you couldn’t ruin that.

Your shoulders trembled as you choked back your sobs, and San noticed that. He loosened his arms around you and leaned away slightly to see your face and notice the tears in the corners of your eyes. He cradled your face as he frowned slightly, his trembling thumbs dabbing the tears— he also knew not to mess up your makeup.

“Y/N, don’t cry,” he whispered.

“San…” your voice wavered.

He pressed his lips together, his own eyes starting to water. “Angel, don’t cry,” he said hoarsely.

You thought that him calling you by that nickname would make you upset, but it made your heart flutter. You blinked several times hoping to clear the tears without them rolling down your face as you looked up at San’s face. However, his affectionate gaze brought tears back to your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N… You haven’t changed a bit…”

Your lower lip quivered, and you were about to start crying, but San didn’t want to let that happen. He dried your tears and kissed you immediately. It was a light kiss at first, but you missed him so much, and he with you. You held onto his arms tightly as you kissed him back, unable to get enough of him. And when he moved his hands from your face to around you, you moved your hands to his shoulders and just wanted him to whisk you away right then and there.

The entire world faded. In that moment it was just you and your lost lover. Just him holding you brought you back to your younger self when you and San were in love and happy. You fit so snuggly in his warm embrace as if you were two puzzle pieces meant to be pressed together— you felt so right with him.

Slowly, the kisses got more intense, more frantic. He let go of you to pull his suit jacket off, but he made sure to leave his lips with you. When his hands returned to your waist, you untied his bowtie and began unbuttoning his shirt. By the time San reached for the zipper on your dress, you were nearly done with the buttons, and just as your dress strap fell off your shoulder, someone knocked on the door, completely startling the two of you.

“Baby?” Wooyoung asked, happiness exuding from his voice. “Your mom wants to know if you need help with the veil!”

“N-no! I got it!”

“Okay, see you soon! I love you!”

You were completely pulled out of your daydream with San and came crashing down into the real world, your heart shattering into a million pieces. You pushed San away lightly and put the dress strap back on without making eye contact with him. You turned away from him and walked towards the mirror where your veil laid on the ground. You had to get ready for your wedding.

“San, we can’t be doing this,” you told him without turning around. “It’s too late. I’m getting married, and I’m getting married to your best friend for crying out loud! And I—”

“I know, Y/N, but… I need you to know that I never stopped loving you.”

“San, you lost your chance. I’m in love with Wooyoung, now.”

“Yeah… I made a mistake,” San said— you heard the hurt in his voice. “Leaving you was the biggest mistake I ever made.”

You turned to look at him, your eyes burning as they filled to the brim with tears. “Then why did you do it, San?”

With a heavy exhale, San ran his fingers through his hair and took a seat on one of the couches in the room. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together as he stared at the ground.

“For the past three years, all I did was take care of my family. My friends would text me, but I never had the time or energy to respond. I was completely alone… And I knew that if I was still with you, we definitely wouldn’t have lasted because of how inaccessible I was.”

As he talked, you approached him and sat next to him. You, too, looked down at the ground as he continued.

“I never stopped thinking about you. I always wanted to text you back when you texted me saying you missed me, but I was scared… I didn’t want to give either of us false hope. And then, you stopped texting me, so I knew you moved on, and I didn’t want to ruin whatever happiness you had.”

You gingerly placed your hand on his, gripping his hand as you listened to and understood his justification.

“When Wooyoung sent the engagement photos, I was shocked,” he let out a little laugh. “I realized I never told him about you when we were together, and I never got to talk to him about his relationship with you because I distanced myself from everything. I actually told him that I couldn’t be his best man, so he actually hunted me down and wore me down, using our college days against me.”

San moved his hands away from yours and covered his face to let out a shuddering sigh.

“I love you so much, Y/N… I can’t believe I let you go,” he said, nearly sobbing.

Your heart clenched. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him, hoping that he would stop crying because seeing him cry was too much for you to handle. San hugged you back and sniffled while whispering into your ear, “I’m sorry, Y/N… I wish I never had to leave you… I love you.”

You moved away from him and cupped his face— it was your turn to dry his tears. You smiled sadly at him as you said, “I never stopped loving you, too, San. I’m sorry things turned out this way… I just hope that someday you’ll find someone who can do for you what Wooyoung did for me.”

Innocently, you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, but San turned his head right at that moment, and your lips briefly reconnected with his. You gazed into his eyes and held your breath— no matter what you said, and no matter how much you loved Wooyoung, you still had deep feelings for San. So, when he kissed your lips lightly again, and then again, and again, you let him. Your Superego begged you to stop, but the Id and your libido had more control over you. When San dropped his head and trailed kisses down your neck, you gasped, your head tilting back in response.

“W-wait, San,” you whispered and moved away slightly. “We can’t do this.”

“Just give me one last time, angel.”

“But—” San cut you off by kissing you, and you immediately caved.

You clung to him and continued to let him kiss your lips until they were raw. Both straps of your dress completely slipped off your shoulder and exposed your bare breasts. San, his lips leaving yours, stood up and helped you out of your wedding dress before delicately draping it over a chair and then doing the same with his dress shirt. He then locked the door and turned most of the lights off before rejoining you and pinning you down on the sofa, the two of you kicking off your shoes before you continued.

You wrapped your arms around him and ran your fingers through his hair on the back of his head. His tongue slipped into your mouth and danced along with your tongue, he pressed his chest against yours, and he held onto your waist and thigh, bringing your thigh up to wrap around his waist. Your pants started getting louder in between the kisses, and you were breathing heavily when San released your lips to remove his pants and underwear.

It had been so long that you forgot San’s size. You couldn’t help but look at him in fear as his stiff, red, throbbing dick rested on your stomach. Meanwhile, he looked at you anxiously.

“I don’t have a condom…” he whispered.

“That’s okay… Cum inside, though. It’ll make it easier to clean up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Sannie. I’m on the pill.”

You said his nickname without giving it a second thought, and hearing yourself say it made your heart hurt all over again, but before you could cry about it, San left you with a mind-blowing kiss. He gently rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your folds slowly, making you wetter so that when he entered you, it wouldn’t be so painful. Yet, he still took you by surprise when he thrust into you, and you did your best to not moan or gasp loudly.

“Does it hurt?” he asked you quietly.

“No,” you breathed out.

“Will you be okay if I start moving?”

You nodded. Hands holding your waist, San moved slowly at first, and every time his hips would slap against yours, you’d let out a little whimper, your heart longing for San despite the fact that he was right there. The closer his upper body got to you, the faster his thrusts got. You bit your finger to keep from crying out loud as the pleasure rapidly increased. San, however, did not want you to bite your finger. He didn’t want you to get hurt. So, he kissed you continuously even with the two of you shifting on the couch with every thrust.

San caressed your hair. You wrapped your arms and legs around his body. You held onto him tightly as his cock rubbed against your G-spot continuously. His kisses were less of a continuous string the closer the two of you got to your climax. His breathing in between each kiss was getting shallower. He was biting back his own groans, the two of you just letting out smaller, sharper breaths as he thrusted into you hard. His waist slammed into yours hard as the two of you came at the same time. San bit his lower lip to suppress his pleasureful groan while you opted to bite the inside of your cheek.

The two of you panted heavily as the high of your orgasms wore off. You both remained stationary as you brought your eyes to meet his. You knew the regret and the guilt would set in later, but in that moment, you just wanted to be with San for as long as humanly possible. You desperately wanted to be able to cuddle with him and whisper sweet nothings to each other as you drifted into a comfortable sleep. But, that could only happen in the past. That could’ve only happen years ago before San left you.

San pulled out slowly and immediately grabbed the tissue box so he could clean you up. You sat up and caressed San’s cheek, willing him to look at you once again. You kissed him softly for a brief, beautiful moment, until you had to return to reality.

“I love you, San.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

He kissed the top of your head gently. Then, you had to tear yourself away from him. You both got dressed quickly. You took one more fleeting glance at him before you turned away from him, the two of you silently acknowledging the situation. You sat in front of the vanity and looked down at your lap as San carefully made his way out of the room. The door closed gently behind you, and a tear slipped out of your eye.

Wooyoung knocked on the door again to check in on you, and you asked him to send your maid of honor and mother. When they saw the disheveled state you were in, they bombarded you with questions, and you lied for every answer like saying you cried reading over your vow to Wooyoung, or that your hair was messed up because the veil refused to work with you. You felt incredibly guilty doing so, but it was truly the best option considering that you were to get married to the man that you love now in the next couple of hours. Luckily, the makeup artist and hair stylist were able to fix you up quickly and get you ready to walk down the aisle.

You were able to go through the rest of the wedding normally, the only thing— the only person— on your mind being Wooyoung. He was completely head over heels when he saw you walk down the aisle in your wedding gown. He vowed to keep you happy and laughing and to make sure you always felt loved, and you cried. Maybe it was because of the vow, maybe because of the guilt, or maybe a mix of the two; but regardless, Wooyoung dried the tears from your face with the beautiful smile that you fell for, the first smile of his you ever saw, on his face.

When Wooyoung was allowed to kiss the bride, and the two of you shared your first kiss as a married couple, you didn’t have to look at San to know that he was smiling and clapping for the two of you with complete sadness in his eyes. You didn’t need to look at him to know that he was hurting because, truth be told, you were hurting a little as well.

You forgot about the speeches at the reception until your father stood up and started talking, and sorrow paralyzed your body. After your father, your maid of honor spoke, and then the best man. You could barely keep your eyes on San as he stood up to speak.

“Wooyoung and I made a pact that we would be each other’s’ best men back when we were in college, but the thing is, I never thought I’d have to hold up my end of the deal.”

Everyone at the wedding party laughed, and you had to force one, especially when San turned to face the bride and groom with a beautiful smile on his face, his dimples as clear as day.

“But, seeing him here today with Y/N and… Seeing how in love the two of them are… I know that this relationship was meant to be, and I know that you’ll always keep her happy and smiling, Wooyoung.”

Your heart twisted into a knot. You covered your mouth as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes. Wooyoung, noticing your tears, held your free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as he smiled softly at you.

“I know I don’t have to say this, but Wooyoung, cherish Y/N. She is the best thing that has ever happened to you. Give her all of the love in the world because she deserves that and so much more, and Y/N…” San cleared his throat, the smile barely holding up. He made complete eye contact with you as he said, “Wooyoung is the luckiest guy in the world to find someone who loves him so much… I’m happy that you two found each other… And I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.”

He turned away from you and held his champagne flute in the air.

“Cheers!”

San took his seat, and he couldn’t help but look at you from the corner of his eye. Wooyoung had his arm over your shoulder and he was whispering happily to you, the tears on your face disappearing as Wooyoung made you smile and laugh. Wooyoung kissed your cheek and hugged you closer, and San had to look away, his heart breaking, his heart broken.

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lixzey · 8 months

Text

ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ, ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴇ ᡣ𐭩

𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙼𝙴 જ⁀➴

hi, my name's ellie and welcome to my blog!

i just started writing on this platform last september 2023. i've been writing fics since i was twelve (yes, it was cringe) on wattpad. i would love to read your feedback, or be friends! my inbox is always open for anything 🫶🏻

anyway, here's some lil facts about me:

i'm 21 years old • she/her • filo-canadian • enfp • libra baby • mother of a four year old girl • a gryffindor child of aphrodite • has adhd and wears glasses • has photographic memory • loves writing (obvi), music, and reading

- i live in the philippines, so pls bear with me. i try to be awake the whole night so i can post when most of my followers are awake

- as i've mentioned, i am a mother to a four year old. so when i get delays in posting, blame her (lol pls don't blame my kid)

- pls don't be rude to me :( i cry at the simplest things :( so hate will definitely be deleted.

xoxo, el 💘

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

╰┈➤ CHARLIE BUSHNELL

╰┈➤ LUKE CASTELLAN

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ divider by @saradika-graphics

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

‼️All of my works are purely fictional and are intended for entertainment only. I do have a wattpad account of the same username (lixzey_), but I haven't posted anything that I have written there aside from one. Please do not repost any of my works on any other site. ‼️

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

The Story of Us - In which you are Timothée Chalamet's high school sweetheart. After a messy break up ten years ago, Timothée is Hollywood's it boy, while you are a rising star. The two of you will star in a new movie, what could possibly go wrong?

Letters - One day Timothée receives a package from someone unknown: a basket of eighteen letters. Letters from a girl named y/n. A mysterious fan who poured her heart out in her letters and is trying to fix herself. As Timothée begins to read, and the letters begin to run out, he finds himself falling for this girl.

Until one day he stopped reading.

Because she stopped writing.

Can't Help Falling In Love - In which two strangers accidentally get married.

Forever Yours

Heart to Heart

My Girl

The Girl With Hair Longer Than Rapunzel

24 Hours

Paradise

Bride for Rent

The Unknown Number

Bad idea, right?

Catching Feelings

Over and Over Again

Angel Eyes

Risk It All

TIMOTHÉE'S CHARACTERS `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

Foolish Ones - Theodore Laurence

Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Wonka

Choices - Paul Atreides

Against All Odds - Hal [The King, 2019]

STAND ALONE `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

• Rising Star

• Daddy's Angels

• More Than Words 🔥

THE MARAUDERS `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

James Potter

• Almost A Love Story

• Must Be Love

• To All The Boys I've Loved Before

• Once Upon A December

• Me Before You

Regulus Black

• Monster Among Men

• To The Moon and Back

• Protego Maxima

• Forever and Always

Remus Lupin

• Professor, Professor

• Head Over Heels

• Seven Minutes to Forever

• Timeless

Sirius Black

• Golden

• The Name of The Game

• If Only

• Safe and Sound

PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

Luke Castellan

• Serendipity

• Sincerely, yours

• Lovelorn

• Late night cravings

#timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #ellie's masterlist #ellie's works 💘#el's writing ✨

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elsweetheart · 1 year

Note

Pls write about clingy!reader wanting ellie's attention when she's playing video games and just like climbing into her lap and all that cute stuff.. youre writng is good <3 xoxo

this is so me….. giggles ….. (and thank u <3)

console yourself — clingy!reader

🎀 just fluff with a tiny bit of suggestiveness if you squint? reader bein clingy n ellie being cute :)

• you missed ellie. you pouted into the bed sheets as you lay faced down, leg pulled up beside you, spreading yourself out (rather dramatically, you might add.) on the bed. your favourite pyjama shorts were jostled at your hips as you sigh with your face buried into ellie’s pillow. she was supposed to be right here besides you, holding you. but instead, she was far, far away.

• “motherfucker.” ellie cursed quietly as her on screen character died and her game restarted. okay, maybe she wasn’t that far away — but she was far enough. what wasn’t helping, was that she looked so cozy on that day. she was bundled in a hoodie and sweatpant material shorts that were grey and fell just above her knee. half of her short hair was pulled back into its usual half-do messy bun and she was slouched down in her seat, legs spread and her controller resting at her stomach where she aggressively thumbed the joystick, brow creased in concentration.

• “ellieeeeuhhhhh.” you whined, and one might think judging by the devastation in your voice that you were severely injured or frightened- however ellie knew you all too well, and even without lending you any of her concentration she knew that you were simply suffering from a severe case of clingy girlfriend syndrome.

• “one minute, babe.” she responded, a few seconds delayed as her eyes zeroed in on her screen target. you huffed, unsatisfied by the response and rolled over to watch her. deciding to take matters into your own actions you stood up, walking over to her with determination (and yet you ended up giggling.) and climbing onto her leg, seating yourself on her lap.

• she barely reacts, simply weaving her head past and over yours when you were getting situated so that she could still see the screen. if she was going to ignore you for her game, she might aswell do it with you on her lap. “hey.” she greets casually and you giggle some more at how focused she is on the game. at your laugh, the corners of her own mouth subconsciously turn up without realising as she continues mashing the joystick.

• you try your best to not disturb her too much, snuggling into her with your arms around her neck, burying your face into her as she leans back with you on her comfortably. she sighs in frustration at the game as it restarts again. “why can’t i fucking get past this part?” she mutters under her breath and you turn your cheek, your warm breath heating the skin of her neck.

• “maybe it’s a sign from the universe that you should pay attention to your girlfriend.” you held back a smile at your cheeky response to her rhetorical question and she briefly took her eyes off the screen to side eye you, making you snigger.

• she played a few more rounds before you noticed the repetitive music from the old game halted and both of her hands were on your waist. “alright, i’m all yours.” she smiled, briefly taking her hands away to stretch her arms, leaning back as she did so and glancing at the clock - guiltily wondering how much time she’d spent accidentally neglecting you.

• you sat back on her lap and smiled at her, crinkling your nose when she poked it. “i missed you.” you complained quietly, busying yourself with playing with her hoodie drawstring.

• “can you reeeeally miss someone if they’re in the same room?” she smirked, pushing your hair back with her hand, letting it slide over your head til she was cupping the back of your neck. you looked up at her with a serious expression, scrunching your nose in fake anger. “yes.” you answered and she chuckled, nodding as if to say ‘alright, alright.’

• “oh, right. i guess i missed you too then.” she smiled coyly, pulling you in by the neck and bringing your mouth to hers. you melted into the kiss, feeling relieved and satisfied by the affection you were craving so badly. “wish i could throw your console out the window sometimes.” you admit against her mouth and she pulled away to gasp, an offended hand on her chest.

• “you take that back, missy.” she poked a finger into your chest and you giggled, chasing her mouth for another kiss.

• “i doooo! i’m sorry!” you had fallen into a giggle fit as the two of you continued to kiss through the disruption before finally pulling away for a breather.

• “i think you’d like it if you tried it.” after gazing at you for a moment she spoke with a fond smile, fiddling with the ends of your pyjama shorts that were bunched up at your thigh crease.

• “i’m not playing that girlfriend-thieving game. don’t try and corrupt me.” you closed your eyes stubbornly as if you could block her out and she chuckled, leaning back a little more in her chair and nudging you suggestively with her own hips, bouncing you once on her lap.

• “little late for that, don’t you think?” her smirk only got more sly and you opened your eyes just to widen them, feeling your face heat up. “how about this,” she took your hands in hers, running her thumb over your knuckles absentmindedly.

• “i’m listening.” you raised an eyebrow.

• “i’ll teach you how to play. you can stay right here on my lap, because i know you’re clingy like that.” she tilted her head slightly in a loving way as she stared at you on her lap. you pretended to think before clambering up to swivel round in her lap.

• “fine... i am not clingy.” you denied with a proud grin.

• “and the sky isn’t blue.” she teased, pretending to say it under her breath making you gasp and lightly swat at her before getting comfortable in her lap, her hands resting over yours on the controller. maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou2 fluff #ellie williams prompt #ellie williams headcanons

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jacesbeloved · 2 years

Text

long overdue

notes: slightly 18+ pls do skip if u’re uncomfortable. also, it may seem unnecessary and long at the start but pls bear w/ me it’s cute at the end. xoxo

summary: you’re aemond’s twin sister, staying with him in the courtyard while waiting for him to finish training when a certain knight takes you around. and jace being not jealous and slightly petty abt it (i suck at summaries sorry)

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x female targaryen!reader

"Do you wish to join us, princess?"

It was a knight from House Lannister that had called your attention. Wearing his aketon, an attractive smile on his face, he extended his arm to you with a wooden sword.

You were inside of the courtyard, waiting for your brother to finish his daily sparring with Cole as it seemed that your mother hated the two of you separated. Aegon and Helaena were already too much, always separated and wandering about their own personal affairs, making it hard for Alicent to keep track of her children's doings.

"I appreciate the gesture, kind sir. But I fear sword-wielding is not my specialty."

"Fear not, I'm a great teacher." He pulls you up when you put your hand on his, a groan leaving your mouth after sitting by the stairs for what seemed to be half an hour.

He leads you to an empty section in the courtyard, first teaching you the basics and how not to get a sword pierced right through you.

It was a fun and new thing to learn, especially with your position in the kingdom. It has always been learning and learning and learning the traditions and languages repeatedly. Of course, your brother didn't have to. It was only you that your mother desperately tried to shape.

"Oh, to your side!" The knight laughs while you desperately try to dodge it, jumping to the left before the knight swipes your foot as if he had expected you to jump. You let out a loud "ow!" as your bottom hit the ground, your wooden sword falling beside you. Still, you laugh a bit to ease your embarrassment. Your awful sense of balance paying you back now.

You saw Aemond's glare at you from the side. He looks as if he's disgusted that you actually fell. You glare back at him, furrowing your eyebrows, trying to tell him that you weren't exactly taught how to fight.

Someone suddenly kicks something from beneath your head, causing you to snap immediately towards it and see a spike.

"Thankfully, you're still alive," Ser Criston suddenly interjects as he places his weapon back. The knight that was once chuckling now had a blank face. "You wouldn't be if her head hit the ground." He then turns to his fellow knight, glaring at him.

The knight purses his lips and nods meekly, helping you up gently as he apologizes. "It is not something to dwell on, ser. Ser Criston's just being protective. You know him, the sworn protector of my family." You laugh awkwardly, trying to lighten up the mood.

He speaks up again to apologize, but you silence him. Commanding the man to hold his tongue.

"If it seems that the princess would want to leave the courtyard, take a break maybe. I'm more than honored to escort her to the garden."

You ponder against his offer, thinking about whether or not a certain someone would be okay with it. You glance at your brother, who is still busy sparring, thinking for a minute.

You nod just after, a small smile coming onto your lips as you nod at his offer.

He smiles the same way, grabbing your hand as he sneaks a look towards his commanders before sneaking you out of the courtyard.

As the two of you wandered out to the garden, the knight seemed oddly aware of the shortcuts and secluded corridors that led to the open area. Various flowers greeted the both of you, birds chirping and butterflies flying around. The elder keepers trim the bushes while minding their own business.

You follow the butterfly up to the sky, only to turn your head and see Elmond, the knight from House Lannister, holding a beautiful flower. It is white on the outer parts of its petals, spiraling down to a yellow inner part.

"For the princess," he says, smiling. Pulling your hair back and placing the flower gently.

The gesture slightly caught you on edge. It felt slightly more intimate than what you had expected it to be.

"I apologize if I may have given you a different motive, Ser Elmond. I am..." You paused, not exactly knowing what to say while you stopped his hand from brushing through your hair further.

"I understand, princess. I also apologize. My actions may have been beneath me. I shouldn't have expected such," he replies, and you let go of the breath you have been holding.

He smiles sadly at you. It was evident that he had wanted to be more than mere friends, hoping to at least build your relationship bit by bit after years of liking you from afar.

The day passes by quickly as you head back to the castle. Leaving Elmond to continue his training with the other knights in the courtyard while you watch your brother finish up.

Both you and your brother go your separate ways, heading back to your separate quarters. You peek slightly to see if he's already gone before making your way to your chambers.

Finally, it was your favorite part of the day already. It was dark. The maids have already left for their own quarters within the castle, and the people in the corridors have been replaced by the assigned guards. You station yourself by your door, waiting for that specific knock that is only understandable for the both of you.

It was only when an hour had already passed that you stood up from your chair by the door. Your eyebrows knit in confusion. You two always met after dark. It would always take him a few minutes before three knocks sounded against your door and you pulled him inside. Now was different, however.

You stayed there for another hour, reading a random book from your desk to pass the time, but no knock ever came. You even try to peek out of your chamber to see if maybe he's out there, but no one was there.

"Maybe he fell asleep from his activities today," you thought to yourself. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, as he is the firstborn of his family, he had numerous duties to attend to.

The following day was a shock for you, spending the whole night thinking of him, thinking of what he might have done the whole day that tired him so much, only to wake up with flowers surrounding you. It frightened you at first, seeing the flowers scattered in vases all around your room, but it quickly faded away as you recognized them to be the same ones that Elmond had put in your hair.

You hastily get out of your bed, putting on any presentable clothing from your racks and running to the courtyard. You slept in and it was already past lunch time, so you knew that the knights and guards were in the courtyard.

The memory was still vivid: you putting down Elmond's offer, the latter acknowledging it. But you knew that the flowers meant something different.

"Princess, you're surprisingly early. Have you come to train?" Elmond muses, looking at you in amusement. His gaze was drawn down to what you were holding in your hand. You see the confusion strike his face quickly.

"Ser, I appreciate the gesture. I truly do. But I am not seeking for an attachment now. You and I have very different duties that we should focus on first. I apologize once more."

The knight's face scrunches in confusion as he cuts you off. "I'm very flattered you thought of me, princess. But, that is not me.."

"What?"

Both of you stare at each other, no one uttering a word as you try to figure out who sent you the flowers. "Have you tried asking the maids, princess?" You nod your head. "They are unaware too, Ser Elmond."

"Maybe a suitor...?" He drags out while looking at you cautiously. Your eyebrows knit together in denial.

If it weren't him, and you hadn't talked to anyone in the past few days, then there would only be one person.

"Excuse me, Ser." You nod abruptly at him, walking as quickly as you can without looking suspicious. Aemond notices you come in from the courtyard, looking at you once more in a judgemental stare. You ignore your twin, walking past him and his chambers to the floor above yours.

You knock three times impatiently, making sure of the rhythm as you knock. There was no response for a few seconds, so you took it upon yourself to open the heavy door. Thankfully, it wasn't locked.

It was empty. There wasn't anyone inside.

You slowly let yourself inside, careful not to drop anything. Although it didn't worry you, Jacaerys' room is neat. Prim and proper. All of his books and belongings were neatly arranged on his desk, and the other furniture in the room was also properly maintained. It was quite literally the opposite of yours.

You suddenly catch on to the slightly open drawer by his bedside table. You weren't really the nosey type, knowing your boundaries and all of that, but it was difficult not to peek at them. It was just a peek.

The drawer stored a piece of paper, recognizing Jace's handwriting simply from the greeting it contained. Your eyes narrow a bit as you read the content of the paper unintentionally. A different feeling rises inside of you at the letter.

"Y/N?" Someone speaks out. It was Jacaerys.

Your eyes widen, watching him come out of the bathroom wearing cream-colored thin long sleeves and pants. His hair was damp, making it obvious to you that he had just finished washing himself. When he realizes what drawer was open and what you were possibly reading, he quickly stalks over you, pushing back the open drawer.

"Jace," you say softly, looking at him with round eyes.

"I- uhh, I thought you had an appointment by the courtyard... You seemed busy.." He stammers a bit, his eyes avoiding yours. "Yesterday." He lets out underneath a sigh, but you immediately understand what he's saying.

You stood up. The taller still avoided your gaze, contrary to you, who had your eyes glued to him only.

"With Ser Elmond? Really Jace?" The sides of your lips slowly went up.

He nods. "Yeah.. Ser Elmond. Whoever he is..." You chuckle loudly at him whispering the last bit.

You wanted him to be direct with you, tell you immediately what was troubling him that resulted in him not being able to be with you the other night. Wanting to get something out of him, you boast. "He's a nice ser. He taught me how to wield a sword."

Jace pretends to not be affected by that. He was subtly clenching his jaw while his hands quickly went over his hair to ruffle it and dry it with a towel he was holding. "That's.. wonderful. I know how to wield a sword too," he mutters under his breath. Not caring anymore whether you hear him or not.

He maneuvers himself past you to sit on the edge of his bed, touching whatever he can reach from the small table beside his gigantic bed. He touched and randomly picked up whatever vials and glasses he had lying around.

"And I almost hit my head on the ground. Do you know that?" You laugh once more. Now moving freely around his room.

"Then we went to the garden afterwards. He gave me a flower-"

"I can give you a flower." He blurts out. Not intending to actually say it, he just merely thought of it in his head. He did not know that he would be actually saying it aloud.

Your eyes immediately dart at him, and you start walking over to the male as you stop right in front of him. "Were you the one that put the flowers inside of my room?"

He snaps his head towards you, his eyes slightly widening before he regains his composure. "Flowers? What- I don't know, flowers? Maybe it was your suitor, or Ser Elmond."

It was definitely him. You were positive; more than positive. The nervous look on his face combined with the way he repeated his words were all the confirmation you needed. It was then that you started to piece together everything.

The flowers, the nervousness, his absence the night before.

The letter.

"May I?" You ask ambiguously.

"May you what? Of course- I mean- Oh my lords," the young prince was caught off-guard as you pushed him to the back of his bed, his back hitting the wooden headrest as you hopped onto the soft mattress of his bed. You swing your legs over his, sitting right above his lap.

It all happened so quickly that Jacaerys didn't know what was actually happening. He blinked, and now he had you above him, wearing nothing but a simple dress with your hands on his shoulders. His face heated up as he noticed that there weren't that many layers separating the both of you from the middle.

He desperately tried to look elsewhere. Staring aggressively at the door, at the fireplace, at his desk, at the chair, everywhere just not you. But then, patience had not really been your virtue, so you pulled his face towards you. Being forced now to look at you.

The softness of your palm almost made him melt right there.

"Jacaerys Velaryon, are you jealous?"

He looks at you like you were joking. His eyebrows join together as he shakes his head. "What? Why would I be?" He chuckles sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes at him, tonguing at your cheek as you leaned forward. Letting your body rest lightly on top of his. The pressure of the foreign position brings a new sensation for the man as he lets out a deep breath.

Of course, you have had your fair share of intimate moments. The closest one to your current position was when you sat on his lap, your back facing his chest as he read you poems and such things from his books. But that only happened once. The second closest moment was when you two hugged each other. That was it.

"Do you think me and Ser Elmond would make a nice couple?" You struck a nerve there. Seeing the way Jace's face hardened and smile dropped. "Of course." He says swiftly.

"The princess should have her free will in choosing her beloved. Whomever she likes, I believe that they'd make a great pair." He further explains, his voice sounding a bit strained as he starts to feel something in him that he is desperate to resist. Not wanting to offend or disrespect you.

You tilt your head at him, waiting to lock your eyes with his. Once you did, you spoke.

"And if I like the prince Jacaerys? Would we make a great pair?"

It was as if Jace's world had stopped. His brain fails to register anything else aside from the first seven words that you have said. He stares at you further, wanting to hear it again.

"You seem to have grown silent, my prince. Let me repeat myself. Do you think we'd make a good couple?"

He swallows. "Do not play the jester with me right now, Y/N."

"Why? You tell me, what are we, Jace? Are we friends? Acquaintances? Lov-"

"We are what you want us to be." He starts. "I like you. It is much more than what you are thinking of right now. And if you want us to remain as friends, rivals, close friends, or whatever, I would respect that. Had that not been clear in my letter in the drawer?"

He stops to look at you in awe, remembering once more how he fell into your deep eyes that made him see all parts of you. Whether it be bad, or good-- or anything really. It was what made him fall for you. Way harder than he intended to. He prays to all of the gods for the next words that may leave your mouth. Wishing that it would be the one that he had hoped for.

But instead, you remain silent. He doesn't understand your response to him until he sees a genuine smile spread across your face and a happy chuckle leave your lips. You push yourself closer to him, entangling your hands with the wet, brunette locks on his head. He, too, smiles happily at this, allowing his hands to rise to your waist, where they had previously been kept behind his back

"Then maybe that's the clarification, my prince. We are a nice pair." You confirm, breaking out into giggles as the man leans forward. Hearing him whisper a soft 'May I' before he presses his lips onto yours. The softness of his lips was better than you had imagined. Remaining still on top of each other, he was the first to move.

Letting his instincts do the work, he moves his lips slowly. Testing out the waters while you wrap your arms around him tighter, letting him enter your mouth. His tongue glides inside of your mouth softly as he explores every inch of it. It wasn't aggressive or rushed. It was just so soft and intimate.

A new sense of confidence surges through the man under you, using his hands on your waist to pull you down fully onto him. Your insides jump as you feel him grow from underneath. You take your hands off of his shoulder, grabbing his hands to direct them up your waist and onto your chest. Growing even harder at the feeling.

The two of you pull away breathlessly, letting your foreheads touch as the both of you try and recover your breath.

"Gosh that was..." you trailed off.

"Long overdue." He finishes, the two of you breaking into soft giggles before the creak of his door steals both of your attention.

notes, reactions, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated!

#jacaerys imagines #jacaerys velaryon #hotd #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon fic #house of the dragon imagines #jacaerys x reader #hotd fics #jacaerys fluff #jacaerys x reader imagine

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otonymous · 2 years

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Caught Between a Wall and a Hard Dick (Grayson) (DC Nightwing - NSFW) - Kinktober 2022

Description:

(First posted on Pa*t*reon (pls see link in pinned post)! - early access Sept 25/22)

Kinktober 2022 Prompt #1: STUCK IN A WALL (aka kabeshiri - yeah, I had to look this one up LOL)

Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language and mature themes - reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings include: outdoor sex (in a sense lol), being stuck in a wall/"glory hole" type situation, some bits faintly wavering towards dub-con, mentions of masturbation, brief mention of edging

Word Count: ~3700 words (I promised myself I would keep these to 1500 words max. Didn't happen. Story of my life 😂)

Author's Note:

Hello lovelies!

Hope October is treating you well so far! 💕 Since we are dealing with more mature topics (Kinktober being the name of the game and all 🤣), please check out the warnings listed above! That being said, please know that this fic is absolutely ridiculous, and I laughed myself silly writing it. All in all, a good time was had. I hope you will have fun reading this one, my friends!

-XOXO, Otonny 🥰💕

PS: Please suspend your disbelief and just imagine for one hot second that triple woven kevlar can be ripped by the bare hands of one super horny superhero. Thanks! 🤩🤣

“Okay, on the count of three. One, two, three!“

“Ow…ow! Ouch! Stop! Nightwing, stop!”

“This isn’t working. Thank god Batman isn’t here to see this.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if Batman were here in the first place. He’d use the door, like a relatively normal person would, not try to show off by somersaulting through a hole in the wall. Stop laughing, Dick!“

“All right, I’m sorry,” Nightwing wheezes in between peals of laughter, broad shoulders shaking as he tries to catch his breath. “To be fair, no one told you to follow me through the hole. Also, ‘Batman’ and ‘normal’ have no business being in the same sentence together.”

“I thought I could make it. Clearly, I was wrong. Damn these birthing hips!”

You struggle some more, kevlar gloves gripping onto brick for purchase as you attempt to push, pull, do anything to free the lower half of your body from the wall it was currently stuck in, your ego now thoroughly bruised in light of your previous declaration that you could do anything Nightwing was capable of doing.

So when tonight’s training consisted of you keeping up with him as he raced across the rooftops of Blüdhaven, you followed close behind, fighting to keep your breath even and steady as you ran, swung, flipped and jumped, doing so well at keeping pace that even you were surprised until Nightwing jumped — no, glided — through a hole in a wall on the rooftop of an apartment building, his form so perfect, he made it look like child’s play, so easy that anyone could do it…

…or so you thought until you got stuck, reality hitting hard in the form of a vice-like squeeze about your hips by brick and cement that refused to budge.

And now, your ass was literally an easy target, vulnerable and exposed to the dark night beyond while the upper half of your body fumed at one costumed Dick Grayson, still snickering in the stairwell of the decrepit apartment complex.

“Okay, so I need a bit more training before I can come out patrolling with you. I get it. But can you please stop laughing and help pull me out before someone comes?! I don’t want to have to fabricate some weird sex fetish to explain why I’m wearing a mask and cape.”

“All right, just relax. I’m moving. Guess I’ll have to use the door this time.”

Dick draws out of sight and then you hear a click and thud, the heavy steel door echoing down the stairwell though Nightwing had done his best to let it close softly behind him.

You can sense his approach: the faint vibrations of his footsteps on the tarmac, the quiet rustle of limbs heard so faintly through cracks in the wall one might have missed it if one hadn’t been trained to listen.

You imagine Dick, his blue eyes behind the mask trained intently on your ass and you cannot keep a sudden rush of heat from rising to the surface of your skin, cheeks burning in a way you wanted to think had absolutely nothing to do with how close he was likely standing to you now, the sharp V of his hips level with your jutting rear end, scratching his chin as he contemplated how best to free you short of blowing up the wall and waking up everyone in a three-mile radius.

“Hey Nightwing, everything okay out there?”

You try to keep your voice as low as possible, but cringe at the way it still echoed in that stairwell, the acoustics absolutely perfect for a Black Canary performance.

“Ahem, uh, yeah. Just, uh, trying to figure out the best way to…dislodge you.”

“Not to seem ungrateful or demanding, but could you please hurry it up? Believe it or not, this position’s not exactly comfortable.”

And it was true. Just not necessarily in the way it would seem.

It wasn’t so much the physical strain of being bent over and stuck that presented a problem; Dick had trained you well enough in the gym and out in the field that maintaining this position for an extended period of time wasn’t an issue. Rather, it was the thought that his undivided attention was now focused on your ass; that he would have to put hands on your hips and thighs in order to free you from your prison. Even thinking about this set your nerves on edge, reminding you of the time Dick had accidentally touched your breast in the midst of practicing an aerial maneuver.

At that time, he gave no indication he had even noticed what had happened, occupied as he was on making sure he caught you before you had the chance to fall to your death on a pile of overflowing trash bins sixteen stories below.

But you, you had burned red beneath your mask, thanking god all the while for the fact that it was too dark for him to really see your face.

Although, you suppose he could with those infrared cameras he had built into his mask…

Never mind.

You weren’t going to think about that. And you definitely weren’t going to ruminate on the excitement you felt to have his hand on your breast. Or how large and manly they looked whenever he peeled his gloves off at the end of a long night of patrolling, right before reaching into the cupboard for a box of sugary kid’s cereal as a snack before collapsing into bed.

No, you were determined not to think of those twilight hours spent lying awake in the room next to his, wondering if Dick could somehow sense your heart pounding through paint and drywall as your fingers traipsed beneath the waistband of your pyjama bottoms to pretend your hand was his, rubbing insistent circles over the wetness that would inevitably pool between your legs every time you thought of him:

Dick Grayson. Nightwing. Your mentor and partner in the fight against crime.

NO.

Now is neither the time nor place, you scold yourself, steering your thoughts towards the more pressing matter of why you could no longer hear him on the other side of the wall.

“Um, Nightwing, is everything okay? Are you all right?!” you ask, panic starting to set in to think that somehow, unbeknownst to you and the upper half of your body, trouble had come calling for your partner and booty.

Though presumably, you would’ve heard something. The wall did have a hole large enough for a person to slip through (albeit not one with hips that Shakira would’ve been proud of). And Nightwing was more than capable of taking care of himself in any situation. So what, then, was the cause of the radio silence? The fact that you could no longer sense any movement behind you?

“You’ve torn your suit.”

“What?!”

Voice catching in your throat, your strangled reply echoes like a ghoul in the night. It wasn’t so much your outfit that you were concerned about — that triple woven kevlar could somehow rip without your knowledge. What you did find concerning however, was the way Nightwing was now behaving: strangely out-of-character.

“Right…” he continues, voice barely audible on the other side of the wall. “…here.”

GASP!

You clap a hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle the sound that escaped the moment you felt his touch: one long finger running along the seam that joined your skintight suit down the middle, sliding down the small of your back and over the curved crevice of your backside to close in on the heat between your legs.

You start to sweat, temperature suddenly spiking in reaction to the weird turn of events — as if the night could get any more bizarre. Holding your breath, you wait for Dick to crack a joke; say something lighthearted to ease the tension like he could always be counted on to do. Except this time, he doesn’t. This time, he says:

“This is dangerous. Your suit is compromised. We need to fix this. Immediately.”

Different. Darker. Dick’s voice is even lower now in both tone and volume, so much so that you have to strain your ears to hear him. The measure of his words is slow and sure, and it makes you twitch, hips shifting in an animal inclination to wiggle your ass in order to please him.

“Wh-what do you suppose we do?” you ask, palms planting on your side of the brick wall so as to exaggerate the curve of your back.

In your mind’s eye, you imagine Dick’s breath catching — much the same way it did that time he accidentally caught you running naked from the shower to your bedroom because it was laundry day and you had forgotten to replace the towels in the bathroom you shared as roommates.

For a moment, he had stood frozen: mouth open and blue eyes fixed to your bare breasts, the creamsicles he had left the apartment a few minutes ago to procure for the two of you dripping down both hands. And then, he had abruptly turned his back to you, muttering something about chasing down ice cream trucks that didn’t want to stop.

But you had caught it: the desire in his eyes.

Undeniable, like the flush creeping up his cheeks or the tent in his jeans before he spewed “Sorry-i-didn’t-see-anything” and ducked into his room, pulling the door closed behind him with his foot because he was still holding on to two melting lumps of citrus-flavoured ice cream.

It was the elephant in the room. The big, unspoken cloud that constantly hung over the two of you when you weren’t preoccupied with discussing training plans or the moves of petty criminals and supervillains, a topic neither dared to broach because it would make things way too messy, too complicated…

…too good to be true?

Was it really too good to be true? And if so, how good? you can’t help thinking, having left the ball in Dick’s court and waiting with bated breath for his next move.

“I think there’s only one thing to do to get you out of this sticky situation.”

More rustling of limbs behind you. Perhaps your partner moving in close, kneeling to get a better look at what he was dealing with. Which could only mean one thing:

Dick’s face was now in your ass.

He touches you and you jolt, feeling the slip of his finger through the rip in your suit, right at the junction of your thighs. You wonder if Dick could feel it — the soaked gusset of your panties. But the suspense lasts for all of a second before he mutters,

“God, you’re wet,”

and adds a second finger to the first, Nightwing gripping onto your suit to tear it down the middle in one swift motion, exposing your flimsy panties to the night.

Throb.

Legs growing weak, you lose your balance for a moment, falling into the brick at the waist. Your clit pulses at what had just transpired, ushering in a new wave of wetness that threatens to spill down your thighs.

“There. Now that part of your suit has been removed, try squeezing through the hole on your side.”

It was bullshit and you knew it. The suit was thin to begin with; shaving off a few millimetres wasn’t going to do much. But you obey regardless, moving your hips from side to side in a manner so suggestive you felt your nipples harden to think of the effect it must’ve been having on Dick.

“Like this?”

Laying it on thick, you feign innocence in an attempt to see how far the charade would take you.

“Yeah, just like that. But it’s not good enough. I think we ought to get rid of this too.”

And just like that, your panties fall away with another unceremonious rip.

“There. Spread your legs. Wider. Yes, like that. Try moving now.”

It was insanity.

How his instructions aroused you so, even with Dick’s voice muffled and muted behind a brick wall. You couldn’t see him, and he had barely even touched you aside from doing what he needed to do to tear off your panties and the bottom half of your suit. And yet, he had you on edge, every shake and tremble of your body foreshadowing a climax so intense it threatened to make you scream so loudly it would wake everyone in the building.

The evening air blew cool across your skin, a contrast with the wet heat radiating out from between your legs, obediently spread for your mentor’s inspection; a crude reminder that you had an audience.

So you put on a show, exaggerating the arch of your back as you walk your hands further down towards the base of the wall, playing up the angle of your ass in an attempt to beckon, to entice…

…to prod Dick into crossing the tension-filled line the two of you had been toeing for months now.

“It’s still not working. I think I need a push. A thrust from behind.“

There. The final nail in the coffin.

All Nightwing needed to move.

You can hear it, sense it; the flurry of activity as a half-step brings him towards you: the cool sensation of Dick’s dark suit as he pressed his hips into your bare skin, the familiar sound of a glove slipping off before his palm is resting on the small of your back, a shudder of breath rising from the cavity of his chest, escaping in a soft hiss the moment he feels the touch of you, skin to skin.

He really was so obvious.

“Are you sure about this? I-I can always try the explosives, if you want—“

And a gentleman through and through.

“Just fuck me, Dick Grayson.”

Another intake of breath, sharp this time, and Nightwing’s moan transforms into a growl, low and guttural. You bite down hard onto your lower lip, doing your best not to draw blood though it was imperative that you did not scream. But the feeling of Dick’s lips on your body — tracing kisses in arcs that rounded the flesh of your ass before traversing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs — made it difficult not to, especially when they grew in urgency, his tongue extending to lap the length of your slit, the heat of his breath combining with an appreciative hum that you felt more than heard, thrumming through your core.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmy—“

You barely recognized the sound of your own voice: pitched high and growing in desperation by the second in a way you knew would make you cringe later on to remember when you were dressed more casually in a t-shirt and jeans. Because there was no way you’d ever forget the way this felt: Dick’s tongue laving slow before flicking fast across your swollen clit, the man’s mouth on your pussy nothing less than pure magic in the way he brought you just to the edge of orgasm before backing off, teasing you in this way over and over again.

They said he was a pretty boy with a face too handsome to shoot, a man who had no trouble scoring even after having made some bad life decisions, like wearing green pixie boots, or even sporting a mullet. It didn’t hurt either that he could easily count his rear end among his best “ass”-ets: pert and ample and shapely enough to fill out his suit like nobody’s business. But it was only now that you were realizing that when it came to Nightwing, looks were only a tiny part of the equation.

Because the way he worked you over was almost criminal — sinful with how good it felt to be at his complete mercy that you were actually thankful to have gotten stuck. Having sat himself between the wall and your thighs, Dick ate you out with gusto, his fingers busy kneading the flesh of your ass when they weren’t sliding into your pussy, taking turns in competing with his tongue to see which could elicit the most salacious moans from your lips.

“Better keep it quiet over there. Don’t wanna wake the neighbours.”

The smirk is obvious in the voice of the hypocrite who shamelessly chose to ignore the wet sounds he himself was producing with his head between your legs, Dick lapping with abandon as his fingers gripped onto your hips, encouraging you to rest more of your weight onto that handsome face.

Your breasts ache within the confines of your suit, sorely missing the action on the other side of the wall. In desperation, you touch yourself, trying in vain to feel pinches and caresses through material that just refused to give. Frustration mounting, you accidentally let out a petulant whine — much to your horror.

Whining was never your thing.

But then again, neither was having sex through a hole in a wall.

“Baby, if you wanted more, just ask.”

Baby? BABY?! Did having midnight sex on a rooftop in the heart of Blüdhaven mean that you and Dick were at the point where terms of endearment were allowed? Also, how was it possible that the word sounded a million times sexier coming from his mouth?!

Dick pulls away and there is more shuffling, more movement. You imagine him pulling down the bottom half of his suit until it sits below the diamond-cut V of his hips, the sleek black second-skin hugging the rounded curves of his perfect glutes. You imagine his tights bunched around the bulky musculature of his thighs, the same ones you covertly juiced over every time it was leg day at the gym.

You had always wondered whether he wore underwear beneath that unforgiving suit, and if so, how it was even possible for him to hide those lines. For now, however, you were content with settling for the image of Dick Grayson pulling out his, well, dick, and slowly stroking from base to tip and back again, a smile on his lips as he contemplated the messy smear of your wet pussy, spread wide and waiting beneath the hazy glow of the city’s ambient light.

“You ready for your second lesson of the night?” he asks.

“Second lesson? What was the first?”

“Not to jump through holes in walls unless you’re absolutely sure you can make it.”

You’re so lucky I’m horny as fuck right now, you grit your teeth. “Right, of course, Professor Nightwing. And what’s the second lesson?”

“I’m gonna teach you how to be quiet in any situation. Now get ready for a pop quiz.”

THRUST!

Gasp!

You almost choke on it; the air that catches in your throat the moment Dick enters you fully with a single thrust of his powerful hips. You can feel him, the base of his cock flush against your body, your walls pulsing in reaction to the sudden intrusion of his length, his hardness, his girth, Dick’s fingers spreading your cheeks wider as he attempted to bury himself even further.

“Keep quiet now. Not a peep, understood? Or else it’ll be an F for you. And I know you don’t like to fail. Isn’t that right, teacher’s pet? Yes, that’s what I thought. Such a good kitty.”

Dick reaches down as he says this, hand between your legs; petting and teasing as his fingers skirt over your clit in an attempt to see how wet you could get, how tightly your walls could squeeze around him.

He settles index and thumb in a crescent about the circumference of his cock as he picks up speed, savouring the feel of your delicate skin stretched thin and wide around his body, every stroke dislodging more and more of your mutual arousal, the creamy evidence eliciting a guttural moan from the man that you considered entirely unfair when you were forced to keep quiet in a stairwell that possessed the acoustics of an opera house.

“This feels incredible. You are incredible,” Nightwing sighs, stopping to pull back for a moment, as if to admire the sight of your pussy trembling from his administrations, right before diving back in with renewed speed and vigour to make you clench both hands into fists, biting your lower lip until it was blanched of blood. “God, I could fuck you all night. All day too, for that matter.”

Dick Grayson had always been chatty. Apparently, sex was no exception. It made you blush; every sweet, filthy word falling from his lips adding so much to the lasciviousness of the situation that you weren’t sure which turned you on more: the way his cock managed to hit just the right angle at just the right time, or the way he played with your mind, his verbal calisthenics every bit a match for his physical prowess.

And though you did your best to stay quiet on your side of the wall, the lower half of your body was a different matter — arousal made obvious to your partner with every slick slide of his cock in and out of your body, the wet sounds of your copious juices dripping down to smear the insides of your thighs and across the hard, muscular plane of Dick’s groin.

Nightwing was right. It felt incredible. Even when stuck in a wall, he could’ve fucked you all day and night and you’d still want more, eager and willing to take him deeply into yourself, to have Dick do whatever he wanted with you. Because you trusted him like you trusted no other:

You trusted him with your life.

And perhaps it is this very thought that sends you, makes you feel free to let go; stepping off the ledge of control to let the most intense orgasm of your life take you.

Dick fucks through it: pushing through the clenching pulse of your walls around him, your pussy milking his cock as he neared his own completion.

But not before he gives you one hard, final thrust from behind.

Because Nightwing — always dutiful, always resourceful — would never leave his partner hanging, stuck in a brick wall with her bare ass exposed.

And right before you pass out from the arrival of a second orgasm coming fast on the tail end of the first, you feel it:

Your hips finally sliding through the hole…

…and your head meeting the ground.

And one Dick Grayson muttering:

“Oh shit.”

Ahahahaha!! Hope y'all enjoyed that ending! 🤣 Thank you so much for reading till the very end! Much love to each and every one of you! For more juicy reads, please check out my P*a*t*reon page (please see link in pinned post)!

👀👉🏼 Feel free to peep the Masterpost here!

-XOXO, Otonny 💖🥰

(Illustration taken from Nightwing Cover #88 by Bruno Redondo)

#nightwing #dick grayson #nightwing smut #nightwing fic #dick grayson smut #dick grayson fic #batfam #batfam fic #dc universe #dc comics #dc #my writing #kinktober 2022 #dc smut

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boyfriendstevie · 9 months

Note

kit. my beloved 🫶 if u want i think u would destroy me with [ DELAY ] one muse is trying to get ready to go somewhere while the other keeps kissing them and unbutton/unzipping their clothes — and it’s date night and one of you can’t keep your paws off the other <3

only took me forever to write this oopsie sorry ily xoxo if you have any requests pls send them my way!! still trying to figure this whole thing out but def need some more to write! | gn!reader, oral (steve receiving); 1.4k MDNI!!!

“C’mere, babe,” you call to your boyfriend as you stand from the bed after slipping your shoes on. He’s fiddling with the tie around his neck, and it still doesn’t look quite right. “Need to fix that, Stevie. Lemme help.”

You’re going out to dinner for your date night. It’s supposed to be at a nice place, the kind that Steve had to make a reservation for. The kind where you both have to wear your nicest clothes. You’re both going all out, since you don’t get to do it often, and Steve is driving you crazy, even if he doesn’t mean to. You’ve wanted him since he got out of the shower earlier, a towel around his waist, hair dripping in his eyes, and bare chest on display. He’d shut down your advances earlier, not wanting to be late for your reservations, but had grinned at you as he murmured against your lips, “Later, honey.”

Steve laughs and then groans as he turns to face you, hands falling to his sides in defeat, “Is it really that bad?”

“Well…” you trail off, glancing up at your boyfriend with a grimace. When he pouts, pushing his bottom lip out, you laugh and lean up on your toes to press a kiss to it, “Kidding! Can I help, though?”

“Mhm,” he hums softly, returning a peck to your lips before you can get too far away. His big hands settle on your hips, warm through the fabric of your clothes, as you pretend to focus on the task at hand. You had no real intention of fixing his tie. In fact, you’re hoping to get him out of it.

Groaning, you pull the tie from around his neck, “Ugh, need to take it off to fix it.” You fiddle with it for a few seconds, and then glance back up at his chest, “Wait, your collar needs to be fixed, too, hold on…”

He seems none the wiser as you pull at the collar of his shirt before trailing down to undo his top button. You’re not sure how far you’ll be able to get before he catches on, but you’re going to test it out. Steve squeezes at your hips as he watches you with a smile, and you grin up at him as you slide your fingers down, dragging against his skin until you reach the next button.

Though he pretends not to, you can see the way Steve shivers at your touch, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. You have to suppress your smirk as your fingers drift further down one more time, and just as you’re about to push the button through the small hole, one of Steve’s hands grabs at your wrist to stop you, “Baby, what—“

“What?” you ask innocently, eyes wide as you peer up at him.

Steve huffs, raising his eyebrows as he gives you a knowing look, “You know what. We gotta go or we’ll be late.” He almost looks apologetic as he squeezes your wrist gently and presses a kiss to your forehead before moving to do up his buttons again.

Unfortunately for him, you’re not one to give up, and you try to bat his hands away, undoing the same one he’d just fixed. It’s your turn to pout now, “No no no, just let me—“ Your fingers follow his, a game of back and forth as you undo his buttons again and again only for him to fix them.

You’re going to have to play dirty if you want to win, and you’re definitely not above it. You catch him off-guard by forgetting the buttons and lean up on your toes to press your mouth to his. He grunts in surprise, but reciprocates quickly, not immune to your kiss. For someone who has been insistent on not being late to dinner, he’s not helping any with the way he’s kissing you feverishly, nipping at your bottom lip as his hands slide lower and lower until he’s grabbing your ass, kneading the soft flesh.

When your hands drag down his chest again, back to the buttons, Steve seems to accept defeat. You’re smug, grinning into the kiss as your nails scratch against his chest lightly, undoing all of the buttons on his shirt until you get to his pants. You fiddle with his belt, fingertips tracing along his hips and v-line lightly. Teasingly. His hips push towards your hands involuntarily and your eyes flick to his, a silent question. You know for sure he’s given in when he nods quickly.

You make quick work of his belt, moving on to his button and zipper before shoving his pants over his hips. Your hand slips beneath the waistband of his underwear to grasp his cock, fingers wrapping around the base as you work on leaving a mark on his neck. Steve’s breath catches in his throat as you stroke up towards the tip, “Oh, shit, babe— need—“

“My mouth on your pretty cock?” you ask into the crook of his neck. He’s already flushed; you can feel the warmth radiating off of his skin, and you’re sure if you pulled back to look at him, you’d find him glowing pink.

“Please,” he nearly whines, a breathless sound.

Tugging at his underwear, you pull it down enough to free his cock. He’s already hard, pretty and pink against the tan skin of his stomach. You maneuver the two of you around, and give his shoulders a gentle push until he gets the idea and sits at the edge of the bed. Placing your hands on his knees, you sink down onto your own in front of him, eyes wide as you stare up at him.

Your hands push up his thighs, lips following the scratch of your nails in soft kisses. You can see the way his cock twitches as you near his hips, begging to be touched. Precum leaks from the tip, and you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his slit, tongue darting out to taste him. Fingers curling around his shaft again, you hum, glancing up to catch his gaze, “We can still be on time, if ya cum fast enough, Stevie.” It’s almost a taunt. A dare.

His eyes squeeze shut as he grits out, “Christ, you’re a menace, baby.”

You don’t deny it, instead leaning forward to run your tongue from the base of his cock to the tip, wrapping your lips around him and sucking. Steve moans, a sound from deep in his chest, hands clenching in a fist and then flexing on his thighs in an attempt to refrain from ruining your hair, “F-fuck, angel. Mouth feels so good. So warm an— fuuuck—“

He cuts himself off with another groan as you take him further into your mouth, hand pumping what doesn’t fit in your mouth. It’s so fucking wet from your spit and his precum, and the sounds your mouth and hand are making are obscene. It always makes you feel powerful, the way Steve moans and trembles when you’re making him feel good like this. His tummy clenches, fists twisting into the sheets next to him.

There’s a soft pop sound as you lift your head to look up at him. Lips shining, you grin up at him, still stroking his cock, twisting your wrist in the perfect way as you ask, “Gonna cum for me, baby?” He nods desperately, hips bucking up into your wet fist, as if you’re still not giving him enough. “Don’t wanna be late,” you say again, squeezing his length, “Can’t ruin my makeup, guess y’have to cum in my mouth.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” he whines, watching your every move as you keep your eyes on his and lean back down to take him into your mouth again. You focus on his tip, your free hand coming up to play with his balls.

He’s so fucking close, cock twitching in your mouth, so you hum, taking him in until your nose presses to the trimmed curls at the base of his cock. It’s enough to have him falling over the edge, spilling into your mouth. Steve whines, eyes squeezed shut, your name and a jumbled mess of expletives fall from his mouth, “Oh, fuck, honey— ‘m so close, gonna cum, please— nngh.”

You take it all, continuing to pump him slowly to collect every last drop until he’s shaking underneath you, only coming up for air when he says, “Baby, baby… fuck. Okay, okay, ’s good. So good.”

Pressing a kiss to his thigh and then his tummy, you finally sit back on your heels and wipe your hand across your wet mouth with a giggle, “Knew I could get you off and still have time for our reservation, Stevie.”

Steve laughs at that, cheeks flushed as he shakes his head in disbelief, stroking his thumb across your cheek to wipe a bit of spit you missed, “Gonna have to make that up to you after dinner, honey.”

"Not during?" you ask with a pout as you help to redress him, actually helping him to tie his tie this time.

"Don't push your luck, babe," he replies, but there's a glint in his eyes that you know all too well. One that means you'll definitely be sneaking off to the bathroom before your meals even get to the table.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #jay <3333 #kit writes #steve thots

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littlemisslipbalm · 10 months

Text

August, honey, you were mine

Josh Kiszka x Fem!reader - Enemies to Lovers College!AU

When originally deciding to be a film and visual arts student, Y/N had thought her biggest issue would be getting a job after college. She hadn’t known that the other people in her major would actually be her greatest obstacle to completing her degree.

So this photo is insane and likely not accurate to the time that this would be set. However, IDC and he looks beautiful.

Separately, here is my College!AU Enemies to Lovers Josh fic... I started working on this over a year ago and really it's silly because I lost the feeling that I wanted him to be mean so maybe it loses steam, idk let me know what yall think pls and reblogs appreciated - lots of love xoxo etc. more to come.

Summary: Forced together by fate or maybe just scheduling, Josh and Y/N can't stand being in the same room together. Unfortunately, with classes and her shifts at the Lover's Inn, it seems that Josh is in her life more than ever. Can hate turn into love or has something been there since the beginning?

Word Count: 13 k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, enemies to lovers, nauseating fluff, SMUT 18+ (specifics below the cut)

oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, edging, mild? dirty talk, female masturbation, i think that's it!

It wasn’t that everyone was annoying. Sure, film students could be a lot, especially for Y/N when she was planning on going into costuming and styling rather than other production aspects. There were just a few overzealous students who seemed to get under her skin more than others.

Namely, Josh M. Kiszka. He was talented in many respects, begrudgingly she would admit that. However, his annoyances and shortcomings outweighed his talents tenfold. One spark of genius would cause ten pitfalls and plot holes, leaving a forest fire of destruction in his wake.

His curly hair was disturbingly trimmed leaving a small rat tail at the nape of his neck for the majority of the time she had known him –at the beginning of this year he had finally cut it and seemed to be trying to grow it out but she didn’t care. He was absurd and even disturbing at times. His smile took up too much of his face when he grinned maniacally. And she could go on.

Now, being in the same major as someone could be irritating at times, but in reality sharing one to two classes a semester shouldn’t be the end of the world. Sometimes it certainly felt like it with Josh since it seemed like he turned everything up to an 11 on purpose. A bursting zipper was a catastrophe, the wrong colored shirt was the work of the devil. But realistically, she only should’ve seen him at most eight hours out of her week – if she could avoid being paired with him for any group projects. She could do eight hours of him droning on about the intricacies of a film and chattering away about his new big idea.

What she couldn’t do was essentially work for him. And she didn’t work for him. At all. But he certainly seemed to think so every Thursday night.

The first time Josh Kiszka walked into the green room at Lover’s Inn, the college town's local venue made for serious music and serious drinking, while Y/N was working, she thought it was some sick joke. She chalked it up to the fact that her karma must be god awful and this was her cosmic punishment.

She had worked there for two years before this, consistently doing backstage work happily for the experience of potentially helping musicians with costuming and styling if they ever took her up on her offer. Mostly, her job consisted of fulfilling riders and babysitting.

On this fated Thursday, it was raining as the fading summer quickly turned into a blustery fall. The trees faded quickly, changing just as fast as they had blossomed. The biting cold of the rain had soaked her hair so when she burst through the stage right door, a spray of rain flew from her head as she gasped in the warm room temperature air.

First rain made people drive terribly, making her later than she would’ve liked to set up the things requested by the band tonight. She was slightly bummed that because she was rushing, she might not have a chance to offer her assistance with styling of the new band, but she thought she’d just ask to help them out at a later date since her manager had told her that if they played well tonight they were going to get the recurring Thursday night spot.

Greta Van Fleet was their name, which she thought was cool, but given their rider, she had a funny feeling that they were probably like most local Michigan bands, mediocre at best, creeps at worst.

The two cases of beers as well as some strange hippie bullshit snacks gave her the inkling of what to expect.

The moment she hears her name from a particular voice, a pit of dread opens up in her stomach. She didn’t know exactly why he was here but she knew instantly that tonight was going to be a long, long night. She finished straightening out the tea corner the band had requested and swiveled around to face the curly-haired bastard. The stupid smirk was already on his lips and his eyes were full of the tell-tale mischief that came with Josh.

“You got a crush on me or something?” He quirks his head with a raise of his eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”

Josh knew she didn’t have a crush on him. Quite the opposite of it, but he loved to see her get furious with him. It brought him insurmountable joy.

“Never in your most self-serving, indulgent fantasies,” She seethes and juts a hip and folds her arms across her chest, taking on a defensive stance immediately. “I work here, Josh. What are you doing here?”

He grins, taking a few more steps into the room before pausing and looking around for a moment. His eyes cast around the worn leather couches, the two rugs mismatched and covering one another, a circular coffee table that had clearly seen too much cocaine in its heyday, and the table filled with snacks and drinks perfectly placed for his band’s amusement, before returning to his classmate staring at him with an appalled but also concerned face.

“Work, of sorts,” He shrugs, the smile never leaving his face. “Moreso play.”

She rolls her eyes but feels her breath hitch as Josh crosses the room further, coming extremely close to her. Her eyes widen as he continues to smile at her with an innocence she knew was an act. It doesn’t leave his intensely sculpted face that was unseasonably tanned for Michigan, even if summer had just ended. His hand reaches out to the right of her frame and plucks a fruit snack pack from the basket she had placed them in five minutes prior.

“Those are for–”

“The band?” He asks, his head cocked to the side once more, after finishing tearing the bag open with nimble fingers. “Thanks, by the way, lover. You got my favorite brand.”

The pure joy Josh had just found in seeing her face contort in disgust at the nickname he had just come up with meant it wasn’t going away anytime soon. He thought he was clever for calling her something inaccurate yet also fitting since her place of work was called Lover’s Inn. In his eyes, it was perfect.

“You’re not…” She trails off seeing the delight in Josh’s features.

He nods, not taking a step back from her personal space and popping an organic fruit snack into his smug mouth. “I am. The lead singer, actually.”

She turns back around to remove herself from the close proximity of Josh. “You’re just bullshitting me,” She mutters, shaking her head, refusing to believe him despite her knowing realistically, it was likely true.

“No –” His next thought, likely one to continue his aggravating crusade, was cut off by someone else’s voice.

“Josh, y’know you could help with the drum kit, like you’re supposed to,” A younger man with long flowing locks complains as he carries in two bass cases. His hair was damp, but drying, signifying the rain was subsiding. Josh’s hair had given no indication of the weather due to the drying but jarringly yellow umbrella that lay abandoned by the door.

Once the cases are carefully set down in a corner of the room, he realizes that Josh was not alone. He uses a hand to flip his long hair back from his face and regards the other person in the room, coming to Josh’s side.

“Hey,” He sticks the same hand out and has a goofily familiar grin on his face. “I’m Sam.”

She takes his hand, telling him her name while giving his hand a shake before letting go rather quickly, she was confused.

“You’re in the band,” She confirms to Sam, who nods affirmatively. “And Josh is in it too?” She asks more skeptically.

“Sure is,” Sam looks at Josh quickly before smiling again, like an all knowing fox. “He likes to act like we’re already famous and don’t have to load our own equipment, but we’ll be lucky to score this gig, Ja–”

“Okay, Sammy,” Josh cuts the younger boy off. “I’ll come out and help, just, shut the hell up.”

Y/N quirks her head as she watches them shuffle back out of the same door she had come through twenty minutes prior, watching the way they interact with one another. She goes back to finishing up the table. It looked fine, but she still felt the need to turn all of the fruit snacks so that they were facing forward and make sure the extras of things she had bought were clearly accessible.

Another younger guy with curlier hair walked in while she was still fussing over the table, a part of a drum kit on his back and a drawstring backpack in his hand.

“I’m Danny,” He introduces quickly after shuffling off the large equipment bag and placing it on the outside of the green room door that leads to the rest of the venue. “Drummer.”

She nods and introduces herself once more, directing him to the table of the fulfilled rider items and that she was around to answer any questions that weren’t specifically technical. Her job, after fulfilling the rider, was handling the band before and after they performed, essentially. She attempted to make that more styling and costume related, but in reality she just was there to make sure no one got too hammered before going out on the stage and no one passed out in the green room afterwards. It was a small venue and therefore a small crew but thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about the instruments as well. Just the people.

When Josh returned to the room through the side door, she was still waiting at the entrance. Her body leaned against the inner frame of the door. It was shut to keep the noise of the rest of the venue out of here, and vice versa. She didn’t want to be in the room any longer than she had to be, but she needed to check off with the entirety of the band. It was to ensure that all of them were here prior to their set and to check in with them about anything else they might need. Now that she knew Josh was in the band, she really wished she could just leave. She certainly was not going to ask about styling, she already had her allotment of fighting over clothing with Josh for the week in class on Tuesday.

The surprising thing about Josh’s arrival is the second copy of him that appears behind him. Like the first stranger, he had long stringy brown hair and slopey dark brown eyes. Unlike Sam, however, he was literally identical to Josh. One realization came to her silently, Sam was Josh’s little brother, that’s why his grin had been so unnervingly familiar.

This man, just two steps behind Josh, though, he was more than familiar. He was the spitting image of Josh except for his hair.

She can’t stop this realization from being audible. As the two of them stand practically side by side as they converse with one another, seeming to almost mirror one another, she blurts out words before she can think twice.

“Twins!” Her voice sounds overjoyed at the realization that they were identical. There was a hopeful glinting look in her eyes as her hands clasp in front of her and she smiles. The fact that Josh was a pain in her ass is forgotten for a moment because she finds it so interesting and unbelievable that identical twins were standing before her and that she had known one all along without knowing it.

Josh stops speaking mid-sentence to regard her and he’s surprised by her reaction. The twin looks perplexed as well with a raised left eyebrow. She is wowed once more.

Josh says her name and hands Danny the rest of his drum kit. “This is my other brother, Jake.”

“And you’re twins? Identical?” She repeats after Jake waves.

“I think you know the answer to that,” Josh throws his hands up in a theatric flourish adding to the condescending tone.

Jake replies far more cordially. “What Josh means to say is, yes we are identical twins. Thanks for noticing.”

“I’m sorry,” She back tracks, remembering the situation and laughing, still feeling off-kilter. “I’ve known Josh for two unbelievably long years and he’s never mentioned once that he has an identical twin brother that he’s in a band with – and he talks enough for it to have come up at least once.”

Josh rolls his eyes with a huff of breath, deciding that he wants to continue helping with their equipment and belongings rather than listen to what he was sure was about to turn into a ‘shit on Josh’ situation.

Jake’s laughter is loud and unadulterated as he crosses the room towards Y/N with the same smile his brothers had, except his didn’t make her want to wring his neck. “He’s always talked too much, I can asure you that. What makes you clearly an unwilling acquaintance of his?”

The grin on her face feels like it’s taking up the entire room. Already, Josh’s twin was leaps and bounds ahead of him in terms of how much she wanted to be around this person. She also liked his hair, it was long and pretty, maybe it needed a good shampoo and condition but it didn’t have a rat tail, which was the biggest plus in her book. When Josh had returned this school year without it, she had rejoiced but also been slightly dismayed that she hadn’t had the satisfaction of snipping it off herself. On several occasions, she remembered waking up with a triumphant smile after cutting it off in some of her more vivid dreams. She wasn’t completely sure if she could be trusted with scissors around Josh so maybe it was better in the end.

“We’re the same major, unfortunately.”

“Oh,” Jake’s voice holds deep understanding. “I’m sure that can be a lot. I used to help out on his films when we were in high school, so I know he’s…passionate.”

She snorts and shakes her head, acknowledging what he had said before once again remembering she was working. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.” She casts her eyes around the room and sees that the four guys are all in the room. Josh had returned and was trying and failing to look like he wasn’t eavesdropping on her and Jake’s conversation. “Anyways, now that I know you’re all here, I can leave you be. Just let me know if there’s anything you need before your set. The techs will come in around,” She pauses looking at her watch. “7:00 to have y’all go set up and go over that kind of stuff. You need to be out on that stage at 8, no if’s, and’s or but’s. Also, if you do get the recurring slot, I’d love to help y’all with styling if you’d be interested since that’s more my expertise.”

She hears Josh snort at her last sentence but she pointedly ignores it, only looking at the other three band members.

“How do we find you if we need something?” Sam asks, settling into the darkest brown leather couch like a lanky puppy, all limbs and no idea how to control them gracefully.

“I, uh,” She stops, realizing she normally handed out her phone number since she hated the radios they were supposed to use. For some reason, giving her number to Josh’s band made her uneasy and then she remembered with a sigh. “Josh has my number from previous group projects, assuming he knows how to use his phone he should be able to give it to you.”

“What’s your number again?”

“You don’t have me saved?” She’s exasperated to say the least and a little offended otherwise. They had quite literally been paired in a duo group project their first week of college, two years ago. If he hadn’t saved her number after all this time, she’s sure she would strangle him.

“I think I do,” He looks down at his phone, scrolling through something, “just double checking something.”

“Give me your phone,” She rolls her eyes and places the palm of her hand out waiting for the weight of Josh’s phone to be felt. She types in her number into the search bar of his contacts. The names dwindle until only ‘August’ pops up. She finishes typing the entire number and the name ‘August’ is still staring back at her on the screen. She looks between the phone and Josh a few times before clicking the name and verifying that it was her phone number.

“Why the fuck do you have me as ‘August’ in your phone?”

Josh grins triumphant and satisfied. When she glares at him, he shrugs and plucks the phone back from her grasp. “We met in August, I didn’t remember your name from class and I didn’t bother to ask. By the time I knew it, I couldn’t be bothered to change it.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“Is Lover better or worse than August? Because I’m willing to change it to that,” He continues looking at her with that wolfish look in his eye.

“I fucking hate you.” She says with a shake of her head before addressing the rest of the room again. “Well, if any of you three need me, don’t hesitate to find me down the hall or get my number from the gremlin that fronts your band and shoot me a text. Josh, do not bother me.”

“Only in my dreams, I know, lover.” Josh mimics being shot by an arrow in his heart and stumbles back before winking evilly at her.

“Right,” She sighs heavily and tries to smile lightly at the other three who offer her sympathetic smiles back. “I’ll be back at 7:45 if no one needs me before then.”

A chorus of thanks follows her out the door and she ignores Josh’s voice again as she goes. It’s pitched up and honeyed sweet and it makes her sick.

That was the first night. They had been good. Josh’s voice was surprisingly amazing and the rest of them were talented with their instruments. Jake was especially good on the guitar. She tried to focus on the instruments rather than Josh’s voice but it was almost impossible to listen to just one piece of their music, they all complemented each other so well. Even Josh’s voice didn’t overpower but finished the rest of the music being made.

They had also been clean and on time. Two things her manager liked even more than a good sounding band that amassed a crowd was a good sounding band that didn’t require a lot of assistance or cleaning up after. Greta Van Fleet secured the recurring Thursday night gig at Lover’s Inn. Which ensured that she got to endure more Josh Kiszka in her life than ever before.

They would fight in class and bicker during group projects that they got paired for and then to end her week just perfectly, she’d have Josh at her place of work, continuing to push her buttons and attempting to boss her around.

He delighted in calling her ‘Lover’ and being a nuisance when she was trying to help one of his bandmates. He always had issues with the vests and belts she found for him, despite them being exactly what he asked for, if not better. And he always, always had that stupid smug smirk on his face when he was around her.

In the middle of the semester, the film and visual arts third years were assigned a very intensive project. It could be alone or in groups but you had to do it all if you did it alone. As luck would have it or maybe it was just a cruel joke being played on her by the rest of the department, she and Josh were the only two not paired up who didn’t want to work alone. She contemplated doing it all on her own, but she knew she wasn’t the strongest writer and with the rest of her classes and the Lover’s Inn gig keeping her busy, she had to swallow her pride. Bite the bullet that was Josh Kiszka now entering another part of her life: her life away from both school and work.

They had looked at one another with dismay in their eyes. Even Josh couldn’t spin this as a way to torture her, this was genuinely not his ideal scenario for an important project either. They departed class on Wednesday with a sighing compromise that they would talk about it after the gig on Thursday.

On Thursday, Josh arrived first out of his band mates to the green room. She was there, finishing up unloading the grocery bags and double checking the cleanliness of the room. Even if Josh was a pain in her ass, she didn’t let her negative feelings for him change how she did her job.

“Well if it isn’t my number one fan, lover!” Josh greets, resting his backpack at the edge of the couch closest to the side stage door.

She sighed. She rejoiced on the Thursdays when it was one of the others to stroll through the door first, so that she wouldn’t have to be alone with Josh anymore for the week. Bringing herself to face him was hard, she had already seen enough of him this week and after the big announcement in class yesterday, she really could do without hearing his voice.

“I know you’ve probably heard this a lot before, so you should understand when I say ‘not in the mood’.”

“Oh lover, you wound me,” He gives her moon eyes before he rolls his eyes and walks around the room, continuing to place his stuff where he liked. The band had been working here for two months now and each of them had gotten into a groove. They had their spots and corners that they liked to chill in until it was time to get to work.

“Do you want your clothes or not?” She leans into her hip as she stares at him expectantly, waiting for him to stop messing around with the throw blanket’s tassels.

“I’d certainly go out and perform naked, I’m sure lots of people would thank you for your brilliant idea. Me in my true glory.”

She scoffs and crosses to her tote bag, dropped by the entrance. She shuffles through it for Josh’s new vest and the belt she found that matched it perfectly. The vest was tan with gold embellishments and looked like it would fit his small frame. The belt was also encrusted with gold broqaue and turquoise stones with a loud engraved buckle to finish it off.

With the pieces in hand, she crossed to his seat on the couch. Josh had his legs spread in a way that required her to stand between them or else she would have to lean awkwardly forward to give the clothes to him. She hated even the way he sat, making her life harder. He reclined back on the couch with his arms over the back of it, the light blue ratty t-shirt he wore stretched and strained over his biceps the way he was sitting. Her eye flickered to it for a split second in mild surprise, obviously he showed them off in the vests, but they seemed to bulge in their current state.

“Lay it on me, lover,” He grins lazily up at her, one hand flipping up right and motioning for her to give it to him.

She shakes her head at him and drops them carelessly on his lap. The belt was heavy enough for him to make a groaning sound. Normally she would walk out of the room at this point, just to get a little bit of time away from Josh. The rest of the band was reliable and she knew they’d all have arrived in the next ten minutes. However, something about Josh’s demeanor made her pause. It was something in the way his eyes looked.

Normally they were wide and bright with evil intentions. Today they still looked mischievous but a little more droopy, his movements a little less agile. She stares at his face, searching for the answer and noticing the way he just lets her.

“Finally decided you want some of this action, lover?” Josh mumbles, eyes fluttering closed as he lays his head back against the couch. “Stopped denying your true feelings…”

She crouches down to be on the same level as Josh, her face getting close to his as she inspects him closely. One of her hands goes to his eyelid, as she leans over him, opening his eye manually.

“Are you fucking stoned, right now?”

He swats her hand away from him and sits back up, pushing her back so that she’s still crouched between his legs. His face looms above hers, the lazy grin still visible on his face, as she stares up at him. Their faces are an inch apart and the space is hot in the already warm room. Her eyes widened expectantly.

“Shh, don’t tell August, she’ll yell at me.”

“I am…” She pauses, realizing Josh was still fucking with her. She puts a hand to his chest and pushes him back against the couch, causing laughter to bubble from his lips. “Fuck you, Josh.” She states, standing up again and stalking out of the room with a final. “Weed better not fuck up your singing, asshole.”

“Thanks for the vest, lover!”

Besides strutting around the stage a bit more sluttily and carrying notes just a tad bit longer than necessary, high Josh functioned about the same as regular Josh. After the show, the band loaded up their gear once more in the back of Danny’s van that they lovingly all called the Greta Van. Normally, Josh would hitch a ride home with him and Sam or hang around the front of house getting sloshed with his twin. Tonight, he begrudgingly sulked around the green room, informing his brothers that he ‘had a meeting with the bosslady.’

August had overheard it and rolled her eyes. “We’re unfortunately partnered for an extremely important project. I’m worried I made the wrong choice and should’ve just gone it alone.”

She grimaced as Jake wished her luck while Sammy and Dan gave her sympathetic gazes, mumbling their condolences.

“It can only be as bad as we make it, lover.” Josh huffed, resuming his seat from earlier on the larger of the leather couches.

“Are you sober enough for us to begin planning now?” She glared and folded a leg behind her to take a seat on the far end of the same couch.

Josh scoffed with a flip of his hand. “Oh c’mon it was just a couple bowls before going on to perform art.” Josh trailed off, mumbling as he stared around the room.

“Repeat that?” She urged.

“It’s not like it was the first time,” He repeated louder but still softly.

She groaned. “God, Josh.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Y’know what? Fuck if I care. Let’s just get our plan laid out so we can go home.”

Josh nodded curtly. Her eyes flickered to his face in surprise that he didn’t protest.

“Okay,” She started, speaking cautiously. “I’ll obviously take the lead on costuming and you on writing, but we’ll need to collaborate on directing and creative direction. Do you have any ideas for stories you want to tell?”

Josh hummed, head falling to the back of the couch in contemplation. “Cults, a modern Greek tragedy, a bar comedy –we could set it right here, erh star-crossed lovers? What about you or are you just gonna keep all your ideas to yourself?”

“I was waiting to see if you had any worthwhile ideas.” She shrugged, scribbling something down on a notepad Josh hadn’t seen her produce. “The modern take on a Greek tragedy could be interesting…”

“I also was thinking about something similar with a modern take on a classic film like ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ or something to that extent. I like the idea of a post-college existential crisis coming of age female lead type story but I doubt you’d care for that.”

“No, no, no,” Josh sat up straight. “Don’t put your assumed misogyny on me! I’d love to do a female lead coming of age post-college existential crisis story! How dare you?”

She smiled at her page and then up at Josh. “My mistake.”

Their eyes met and the room felt eerily quiet with both of their mouths shut for once. The dingy yellow lights bathed the room in a homey glow. The worn leather was warm beneath their skin, inviting them to settle in.

Then simultaneously, they said: “Modern take of a Greek tragedy that is a coming of age post-college female lead story!”

“Fuck yes!” Y/N rose onto her knees in excitment as Josh’s entire face lit up, leaning forward in excitement.

“Let’s fucking go!”

They laughed and high fived, feeling an unexpected and unknown emotion of shared understanding and initial accomplishment. They talked plot, characters and logline, the main bones of the project they needed to get started on and split up what each of them would flesh out for their next meeting. It was decided that it would be best to meet after class on Wednesdays rather than Thursdays after shows just so that they didn’t have to hang around Lover’s Inn when it was just the locals in the front of the house and so that Jake didn’t get too lonely when he wanted to drink himself under the bar.

Josh felt a weird inclination to walk her to her car that night. He knew which car was hers, he always looked for it in the parking lot when he would pull up on Thursdays – a 90s classic black Volvo sedan with a dreamcatcher hanging on the rearview mirror.

She had regarded Josh oddly when he insisted on walking her over to the car even though the parking lot was empty with plenty of light. Then she noticed again that the lot was empty beside her car and the bartender’s, who was still working.

“Where’s your car?”

Josh kicked at a pebble with his sneaker and shrugged his shoulders with his hands stuffed in his khakis pockets.

She frowned remembering his high state earlier today. At least he was somewhat responsible, but with no foresight. “Did you want a ride?”

“Nah.” He shook his head vehemently. “I walked in, I can walk out.”

“Yeah,” She agreed. “But it’s dark out now.”

“It was dark out earlier.” He reasoned with his usual smirk trying to win his way out of this one.

“Not this dark, not this cold,” She insisted, pushing his shoulder to move towards the passenger’s side door. “And not this late. Get in.”

In the small interior of the Volvo, Josh took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them together as she cranked the heat and shivered herself before getting her music playing.

“Thanks,” Josh whispered, grateful.

“Can’t have you dying on me,” She replied. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she was focused on backing up carefully, twisting around and switching gears, and she barely noticed when she finished her sentence under her breath. “For so many reasons.”

In the dark of the car, lit only by the moon and streetlamps around, Josh watched her uninterrupted. She sang under the music she had chosen for the drive. A CD that had already been in the reader of Radiohead.

Josh listened along to the dulcet melancholy voice of Thom Yorke. He likes how she knew all the words but paused every so often to look to Josh for directions.

“Nice house,” she said, turning down the stereo when they arrived.

Josh shrugged, turning his head from her to the classic Michigan two-story with its basic driveway and porch. Dark wood everywhere and an old tree in the front yard. There were warm lights coming from a few windows in the house and it looked like a home.

“It’s fine. Jake, Sammy and I rent it from a family friend so it’s a good deal.”

“That’s nice.” She feels awkward, making small talk with Josh.

It’s the antithesis of their usual relationship of bickering and jabbing and avoiding. It’s soft and casual. Warm and inviting in the familiar seats of her car, with her music. Josh kind of seemed at peace in her car. It was unusual, regarding him looking so quiet and calm.

“Alright.” She breaks the silence.

Josh takes the cue, blinking out of whatever trance was keeping him from taking his leave from her car and getting into his house for the night.

“Night,” he speaks softly. “Thanks for the ride…and, uh, see you Monday, I guess.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, watching him get out of the car, carefully taking his bag and his new vest and belt into his arms.

She waits for him to get inside before driving off. Still unsure of the feeling in her stomach, she blasts the Radiohead a little louder to drown out her speculations.

By the end of November, they were almost through with the filming portion of their project. Yet it was time for a relatively complicated scene. Well, it shouldn’t have been complicated if the weather had been right but unfortunately they were venturing into true winter in Michigan.

Josh and Y/N had settled on the tragedy of Hippolytus after attempting the tragedy of Medea but deciding it was too overdone — how many stories of a woman scorned by a man leaving her could we want? Instead, the twist of Hippolytus in the 21st century would allow for an interesting female lead whose story didn’t start because of a man.

Instead, like Hippolytus, their lead had decided against sex and relationships during college. Josh and Y/N had worried about making it purity porn but decided that they would balance the true story with modernity enough that it would work.

In the Greek tragedy, the woman interested in Hippolytus killed herself after being rejected by him, however that was another place they would depart. Instead, the counter to the lead would be hurt randomly and there would be a need for the lead to help them. This leads her to pursue psychology and therapy—medicine felt too cliche. But she knew she wanted to help people. Their bond eventually grows to love even though it’s not what she intended. However, both the therapy and the relationship help her find meaning to life, bringing her out of the existential crisis that started the story.

So they were filming the scene where the counter, James, was meant to get hurt. The short film was going to be narrated by a modern Aphrodite so some silliness was injected into it. She was interfering with the lead, Hyacinth, in hopes to persuade her to fall into bed with someone.

James lived next door and was washing his car, shirtless, when Hyacinth walked out her front door, about to go to gym—another one of her ideas of how to find purpose in life, pushing her body until it had no energy to think. Jason was meant to have gotten soap all over him from leaning across the hood of the car, like a male fantasy but reversed, and then point the hose towards him and wash it all off sexily. Of course, the student they had cast, weirdly also named James, was attractive but he was an angel and an ex-theater kid, so he couldn’t quite get it right and he was beginning to shiver even though they had the water as warm as possible and were covering him up between every take.

Josh was attempting to hold back laughter but after the third bad take, Y/N yelled ‘cut’ and walked into the scene.

“James, here hand me the handle,” she said.

Taking hold of the metal length at the end of hose that was turned off, she began to instruct James to do exactly what she was showing him. She turned it towards her and held it above her chest with her head tilted back, eyes closed. She sighed for a moment and then briefly moved up as if the water were hitting her face and then ran her free hand against her cheek, allowing her lips to open further and then ran the same hand down the front of her neck, down her chest and her stomach, brushing to the side just as she got to the top of her thighs.

James watched carefully, not phased by the directing. Josh gawked. His eyes almost bugged out of his head watching her and wondering if just maybe that’s what she looked like in a shower. Her soft hands would be running over her soft naked skin instead of her warm winter sweater and jeans, but still. He could imagine. The sudsy soap and bare skin touching the cool tiles and warm water. Fuck. He needed her to never do that again ever.

The last month he had seen more of Y/N than he had ever thought possible. Except now, he looked forward to it without pretending it was because he wanted to bug her. Josh wanted to know what she was thinking about every aspect of their project and he wanted to hear about her weekend and he wanted to kiss her against the walls in the green room when his brothers weren’t there. He didn’t act on the third thing, but he wanted to.

“Josh?” She raised an eyebrow, still holding the hose above her chest. “Josh?” She repeated.

He blinked. “Huh?”

“I asked if you agreed? Does that fit with an Aphrodite induced sexy car wash scene you imagined?”

He smiled weakly and she tilted her head in silent worry. Hopefully Josh wasn’t getting sick.

Of course it is, doesn’t even need a Greek god to intervene and make it hotter, she just was.

“Yeah, yep, fantastic,” Josh rushed. “James, you got it? We’re losing light.”

A cloud was rolling in from the east and Josh knew that if they didn’t finish soon they might get rained out.

James nodded and they ran the scene again. The actor nailed it and after Josh yelled cut, Y/N squealed in accomplishment. They high fived and Josh’s eyes linked on the side of her neck where her fingers had brushed as she had caressed herself minutes ago—professionally.

After that, they wrapped for the day, Josh still concerned about the rain, sending the actors and helpers home. Y/N hung around to help Josh bring his equipment back into his house. They were using the front of it for the scene. On their last trip to grab things from the street, thankfully all non-electronic, the beginning of what would be a long rainstorm began in full force.

This time it was Josh to shriek and Y/N laughed as they ran under the awning of the porch after grabbing everything left as quickly and carefully as possible. It didn’t matter, they were pretty drenched.

She tried to catch her breath from running and laughing while Josh felt his hair with a look of dismay.

“You know you’re stuck here,” Josh grumbled, looking out at the pouring rain. He hated the way she seemed to enjoy his displeasure at being wet.

“As long as you’ve got a spare change of clothes, a hot shower and a gas stove in case the power goes out, I’m fine.” She shrugs, pushing the screen door open and putting her half of Josh’s stuff on the entryway bench.

Josh followed behind with his binder and a few rain-ruined scripts.

“Anyone else home?” She wanders through the hall to the living room, peeling off her sweater and leaving her boots by the wall.

Josh shakes his head, “Probably not, it pisses Jake off when I film at the house and Sam usually goes to Danny’s on the weekend.”

She inspects her jeans and t-shirt before looking at Josh. “I want to shower now, can you find me clothes and put them in the bathroom before I get out?”

“Who made you queen?”

“This isn’t Lover’s Inn, I’m not on the clock and I’m your guest who’s trapped here…feel like you’re supposed to dote on me.”

Josh rolled his eyes, feeling the memory of their feud flickering like an ember in the pit of his stomach. He wants to tease her, say something biting to turn the tables on her. But she was right, they weren’t in any of the situations they were usually in with one another. More uncharted territory.

“You’re annoying,” he offered lamely.

She chuckled and pushed at his shoulder lightly as he passed, assuredly showing her to the bathroom. “Try harder, lover.”

Josh scoffed without turning his head around, but the feeling in his stomach grew as he heard her feet padding behind him. The rain was loud on the tall roof, fast and foreboding. It might’ve been adding to Josh’s unease.

At the end of this new hallway, there were three doors. One to a bedroom, Josh’s, a closet and the bathroom. He opened the closet to grab fresh towels he kept for when he didn’t want to do laundry that week and walked them into the bathroom.

It was surprisingly clean but Josh had his own bathroom, forcing Jake and Sam to share the other one, claiming he was the oldest so he got the most privacy.

She smiled at the tub. “Should I have a soak instead? Do you have any good wine?”

“This is not a fucking hotel,” Josh laughed. He handed her the towels and she gave him a pointed look. “But I’ll open a bottle.”

“Good boy,” She continued to smirk. “Maybe I’ll leave a nice tip.”

Josh pinkened slightly. She’d never been like this before. He felt like he was falling into some world where Aphrodite really was fucking with his life.

15 minutes later, Josh returned to the bathroom where Y/N was showering and pushed the door open. She had music playing but he could hear the water still running.

He walked in and placed the sweatshirt and clean boxers on the counter. Her wet clothes were in a puddle on the floor beside the shower mat and he swallowed. A pretty pink lace thong and a black lacy bra laid atop her top and jeans. He took a breath and went to head for the door, turning away from the clothes. But Y/N’s own breath caught his attention.

Her grunge 90s music was playing from her phone but she was breathing hard and Josh stopped short. His eyes shot to the shower curtain. The place he had been avoiding with all his power. It was sheer. Her silhouette was hard to see but it looked like it was writhing. He saw one of her hands slipping around her chest and he bit his lip. She was certainly squeezing her tits and she was breathing hard and he couldn’t see her other hand.

He put his own hand to his mouth to stop any shocked sounds slipping out. She must have forgotten that he was coming back. When he saw her silhouette drop to the floor of the tub, Josh snapped out of his trance.

He grabbed the clothes and slipped out the door, closing it as quietly as possible just as he heard a breathy ‘fuck’ he would dream about for weeks.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself. Letting his head fall against the now closed door, he took a deep centering breath before knocking loudly. “I’m leaving your clothes out here, kay? Gonna open that wine.”

Her voice was normal in response and Josh was wondering if he had just hallucinated. Had he accidentally taken a gummy and forgotten. Seemed unlikely since he usually wouldn’t when he was working on film stuff.

“Sounds good! Thanks, Josh!”

Josh tried to be normal when she came into his room in his clothes, rubbing his towel through her wet hair. He’d left the wine and two mismatched glasses on his bedside table. He mumbled that she could start without him as he passed her to jump in the shower himself.

On the fogged main mirror, she had written, “don’t work when it’s about to rain!”

Josh smiled to himself and stripped down out of his clothes that were still uncomfortably wet. His shower was much quicker and much colder. He couldn’t allow himself to be in there for very long or else he would’ve started to fantasize about what he was certain had just happened in here.

In his room, Y/N sat on his bed, taking large sips of the red wine Josh had found. She was nervous. Something about this storm was making her uneasy. The scene they had shot had done something to her. Everytime she looked at Josh, she swore he was eyefucking her and that made her feel strange. Extremely turned on. She had thought dealing with it in the shower would’ve solved it but the minute she walked out and saw Josh looking so sullen, still in his rain-soaked clothes sans his jacket, waiting for her to get out, she felt wet again. If anything, the quick wank had made it worse. Already slick and wanting, she wasn’t sure if she could handle being around just Josh for the night.

Now that they were friends, she couldn’t deny how attractive he was. God, it made her roll her eyes. He was talented and attractive and she was sitting in his bed, drinking his wine in his comfy clothes all at her request.

If it couldn’t get any worse, Josh walked into his room with his towel hanging around his hips and his chest speckled with droplets coming down from his hair.

“Didn’t have time to dry off?” She tilted her head, trying to sound casual. Unbothered when she was fully, terribly, bothered.

Josh shook his head, making more droplets fly around the room. “Forgot my own clothes.” He shuffled through his myriad of t-shirts and grabbed a gray one with a Buddhist symbol and black sweatpants.

“You sound like you need a drink,” she tried.

“Yes,” Josh sighed as if he was coming out of a desert with no water. He held his hand out and she quickly poured the second glass and placed it in his waiting hand.

Their fingers brushed and both of them pulled back as if they’d been burned. She met Josh’s widened, brown eyes looking dark in his navy room that was shadowed by the storm and his one yellow lamp. He clutched carefully to his towel and the clothes under his arm with the wine in his other hand, taking a long sip as he turned on his heel and returned to the bathroom.

She let her head hit the headboard of Josh’s bed. What the fuck was going on? She took another sip of her wine and then refilled the glass up high.

When Josh returned clothed, he sat on the foot of the bed and she silently refilled his glass when she saw it was already empty.

“So…what do you want to do?” She tries while folding her legs up under her chin.

Josh’s eyes flicker to the movement and get stuck on her legs for a moment before returning to her face.

“Movie?”

She shrugs, looking around his room for a television. “I don’t want to sit in your living room, your couch looks uncomfortable.”

“That’s where you’re sleeping if you can’t get home tonight,” Josh scoffs.

She arches an eyebrow and takes a sip of her wine. “I’ll sleep in Jake’s bed, he won’t mind.”

“No.” Josh stated flatly.

Her eyes turn back to him, cautiously. “Why not?”

“It’s weird.”

“No it’s not.” She sounds annoyed, placing her wine down and picking up her phone. “I’ll just text him and ask.”

The text sends and she smirks at Josh pointedly. Shortly after, a loud crash of thunder signals the power leaving for the rest of the storm and with it, the phone signals.

Josh smirks triumphantly over his glass when Y/N throws her phone dejectedly on the side table too, while he flicks on his battery powered lamp he had grabbed earlier as a precaution.

“Couch it is.”

She lays sideways along the top of Josh’s bed and hums, raising her hands above her head, allowing the bottom of the sweater to lift and expose her stomach. Feeling perfectly buzzed from the wine, she sighs, “I don’t know, this feels pretty comfy and I’m already settled. Maybe you should sleep on the couch since you love it so much.”

Josh watched her body extending across his bed and simultaneously wanted her there forever and to throw her out.

“Absolutely not. This is my house.”

“And I’m the guest,” she repeats. “C’mon lover, don’t be mean.”

“You’ve never seen mean,” Josh rolls his eyes and finishes his wine, laying it with hers on the table.

She laughs, outrageously loud. “You’re a lot of things, Josh. But I don’t think you’ve got a truly mean bone in your body or however that cliche goes. Evil sure, but that’s different.”

She hasn’t bothered to sit up and she’s enjoying the tone of voice Josh is slipping into and everything feels quite nice and warm. So warm. She shuts her eyes.

“No, no,” Josh hurries, moving himself so that he is closer to her. He pats her cheek lightly. “No falling asleep in my bed. Not allowed.”

“But I’m so comfy and cozy,” She croons, blinking her eyes back open. The smirk on her face gives her away.

“C’mon.” Josh takes her shoulders to push her upright. “Sit up.”

She laughs, but it dies out, recognizing the proximity of Josh’s face to hers. How his body is hovering over hers. How warm she is. “Fuck,” she whispers, staring at his lips, slightly stained from the wine.

“What?” Josh whispers back, realizing the same things as her. How soft the smallest bit of her skin is against his finger that’s on her shoulder, slipping along the collar of the sweater.

“Your lips are red,” she states.

Josh grins and lets his head fall between them with a laugh. “So are yours.”

He looks back at her and remembers the way she sounded in the bathroom. All the years he’d known her. All their fights. And how they weren’t really fighting anymore. How he teased her at Lover’s Inn and how good she’d been as his partner this last month and a half.

“What are we going to do with no power, August,” Josh whispered, already inching his face closer to hers.

She smiled and let her hands reach up to cup his face and neck. “Read the Bible by candlelight?” She whispered back as Josh’s nose nudged against hers.

He breathed a laugh across her lips and her breath caught in her throat when he finally attached his lips to hers. They kissed softly, just taking it in. Josh shifted them into a more comfortable position, one leg slotting between hers, while the other supported him so his torso wasn’t fully on her.

She whimpered immediately at the pressure and Josh smirked. He pressed harder, licking into her mouth.

She gasped when Josh began to kiss her neck and he spoke against her neck in between sucking against the skin. “I heard you.”

“W-what?” She was staring at the ceiling while she ran one hand against his shoulder and the other through his hair.

“I. Heard. You.” Josh repeated, allowing one of his hands to run under the sweater up towards her breast and she whimpered again. “Fuck,” he loved the way she sounded. “In the shower, lover.”

Her eyes shot wider, the haze of Josh’s lavishing touch disappeared with shame. “You did?”

Josh pulled back with a lazy grin, still playing with one of her nipples under her shirt and pecks her lips quickly.

“Yeah you fuckin’ told me to bring your clothes in because you’re a princess apparently and then you were in there getting off when I walked in.”

She felt embarrassed but remembered what was likely about to happen so it didn’t really matter. “Oh…I tried to deal with it quietly. I was just really turned on for some reason.”

Josh scoffed and retreated his hand from under her sweater. “C’mon,” he gestured to the sweater.

They were still acting like film partners through this interaction. Or at least how they acted. Talking casually while in the beginning of a sexual encounter.

She took it off and threw it to the ground while staring pointedly at Josh’s shirt. He followed suit before kissing her again. His chest looked so soft and warm, she wanted to be wrapped up in him.

“First, I almost had a heart attack at the sight of your thong and then I turned to leave and you’re in there playing with this thing.” He pauses his words, slipping his hand inside the boxers she was wearing, cupping her pussy.

She whines, extending her neck to kiss Josh’s. Feeling the need to touch more of him. He grins down at her again and kisses the space between her tits.

His hand rubbed ever so slightly over her mound without actually doing anything, but she felt the slightest friction and the pooling of her wetness. She grabbed at one of her tits.

“The curtain’s not opaque, August,” he continues and she groans at the nickname at a time like this. His middle finger slipped lower, hovering over her slit. He looked her in the eyes again. “I saw you writhing around your own little fingers. What’s it gonna look like when it’s mine your pretty pussy is wrapped around?”

She moaned at his words, throwing her head back against the pillows.

“Is it pretty? I bet it’s pretty.” Josh continued his special version of torture. She could feel his fingers but they weren’t doing anything she wanted them to. Every so often he planted a kiss on her torso. Of course he liked to tease by talking forever and ever.

“Take off the boxers and find out,” She tries not to sound impatient.

“Great idea!” Josh patronizes, slipping his hand out of the boxers completely and moving to take off the boxers.

She huffs.

“Don’t act spoiled,” Josh admonishes, returning his hand back to where it was while his other cups her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes again. He looks like an angel like this but so sure of himself. She’s amazed and completely at his will. “I know she already got to cum once under this roof.” He tsked, tapping his middle finger against her entrance. It was the lightest pat but she was so wet that Josh’s finger got a little of her slick nonetheless.

She moaned at the change in sensation, her hips dipping down in some instinctual attempt at getting him to slip inside.

“God, you are needy.” He removed his hands again and laughed when she huffed again. Both hands moved to her knees and pushed them to be bent and then apart, moving his body between them. His hands then went to her breasts, squeezing them and pinching tenderly at her nipples. Her hips bucked again and Josh kissed her again. “It’s gonna feel so good when I finally touch you where you want,” He offered, kissing her sweetly.

Pulling away he began to suck on her chest, continuing his monologue. “You were holding this perfect tit in one hand and rubbing your wet pussy with the other, right?”

She nodded when he looked to her for a response.

“I left when I saw you drop to your knees like some cock hungry whore…” Coming from someone else it would’ve sounded cruel, but from Josh’s lips it was the softest sweetest accusation in the world. His voice was honey and it only made her want him more. Maybe she was a cock hungry whore, for Josh.

Josh’s right hand returns to her pussy, cupping it like before and she’s sure she’s about to leak onto his palm.

“You’re leaking, princess,” Josh informs her, confirming her suspicion. “Do you like me talking mean to you? Why’d you drop to your knees in my bathroom, August? C’mon you can tell me.”

“I,” She starts. Josh chooses then to slip the tip of his finger inside of her.

“Yes?”

“I was about to c-cum and you have that, fucking, detachable showerhead…”

Josh thrust his finger fully inside her and she moaned, relieved but not much better. Now she felt herself quickly working up to another orgasm. He thrust his finger carefully, thinking over his response while trying to hold himself together now that he’d felt how warm and tight she was inside.

“Used my showerhead to get off in my shower. Touching these pretty tits, riding your own hand and now you’re laid out all perfect for me.” He added a finger and her hips began to move with his movements. “You are a little slut, aren’t you?”

She hums in agreement, one hand hanging onto Josh’s neck and another gripping her tit like her life depended on it.

“And you’re gonna cum again already? Fuck,” Josh sounded amazed. In awe of how sexy Y/N was, how willing and lovely she was, how she was perfect for him. “Go on.”

She came immediately, having held off for so long, trying to hold it for Josh despite how much he’d teased her.

After she rode it out, Josh removed his fingers and gave them a lick. Humming his satisfaction. She breathed heavily watching him, but wanting more. Seeing from the bulge in Josh’s sweatpants she knew he wanted more as well.

“Fuck me, Josh.” She sat up on her elbows beckoning him closer.

“Did you forget who’s in charge?” He laughed, but it was soft. They were still themselves.

She widened her legs and pouted, dropping her hand to her pussy, carefully circling her puffy clit.

“Need it, Josh.” She rocked her hips. “I think you need it too.” She hummed, looking pointedly at his straining cock.

Josh shook his head and crawled over her again, pushing her hand away from her clit. She took up the job of pushing down his sweatpants and boxers simultaneously.

“Next time, I wanna see you dropping to your knees like the cockslut we now know you are.” Josh breaths, losing track of his train of thought with the feel of her soft hand gripping the base of him gently.

“Next time could be later tonight…” She whispered back, connecting their lips again. “Or tomorrow.”

Josh groans, at her words and the feeling of her slipping the head of his cock through her slick. He resisted pressing in immediately, feeling her rubbing it back and forth from her entrance to her needy clit. He bit her lip and she moaned.

“I would’ve fucked you months ago if I knew that getting you wet was all it took to make you all sweet and nice.” He grunted.

His hips thrusting on their own accord caused his head to slip against her clit in a way that made her moan loudly. She tightened her grip on his cock and Josh’s hips moved back.

“I wouldn’t be rude to the girl who’s about to let you hit, lover.”

She nudged Josh’s head into her entrance and they sighed in tandem. Her hands went up to his shoulders from under his arms. Josh dropped his face into her neck, overwhelmed by the warmth and softness. They began moving at a steady clip. Her legs wrapped around Josh until he started thrusting harder and faster.

“Fuck,” she whined. “That feels so fucking good. Don’t stop.”

Josh had begun to sweat. He shifted one of her legs to balance one of his hands and then moved his other to the headboard and she moaned loudly adoring the stretch.

“‘M close,” He strained. His eyes were constantly shifting between her bouncing tits, his cock disappearing in her and her face and the expressions she was making. “You’re so wet.”

“Cum,” she breathed. Her fingers slipped down to her clit again, rubbing furiously.

Her walls tightened at the added stimulation and Josh was cumming. Hot and sticky inside her. He panted hard, collapsing on her with a wet kiss against her mouth. His cock had made even more of a mess of her, leaking out of her full, throbbing cunt.

Josh watched it. Entranced as he pulled out once more and twitched when Y/N moaned at the sensation, her eyes shut in pleasure.

“I’ll clean you up,” Josh nodded to himself before disappearing.

Less than 10 minutes later, the pair were cleaned up and wrapped up with water in Josh’s bed. Side by side.

They saw each other in class on Monday and Wednesday after their shoot and impromptu sleepover on Saturday that had run into Sunday, but they acted like nothing had happened. Or like it was completely normal. Which they both liked. They had been cordial upon waking up wrapped around each other on Sunday morning, but Y/N had made a quick exit, citing a myriad of reasons why she needed to go home now that the storm had passed. She even declined coffee.

It was Thursday, at Lover’s Inn, when the events of Saturday night became hard to ignore.

Josh didn’t show up first which she was grateful for. Jake sauntered in with his guitar case, his small but impressive pedal board and a few wrapped up cords over his shoulder. She smiled and they exchanged pleasantries as she shuffled around their table. Everything was ready, but she couldn’t stop herself from reorganizing things.

“Do you need a beer?” Jake asks after a tense 10 minutes of silence.

She laughs and flips around from the table, slumping against it. “Honestly, yeah.”

Jake lifts his mouth into a half-smile, nodding to the table. “You can have one of mine and I’ll steal one of my brothers.”

“How chivalrous,” She smiles, disarmed by Jake’s nature. She grabs two beers and the bottle opener from the table before crossing to him and handing over one beer to him, followed by the opener.

They click the necks together and take an appreciative sip.

“What’s got you flustered?” Jake asks.

“I don’t know,” She sighs, rubbing at her forehead, knowing exactly why.

Sam, Danny and Josh file through the side door while Y/N attempts to come up with a reason for her to be stressed. Jake watches her carefully, but her eyes immediately shoot to the sound of the door opening and their voices.

Josh scans the scene of Jake and Y/N on the two couches, sipping on beers, alone. His nose flares momentarily before setting down his piece of the drum kit and saunters to the couch, sitting beside Jake.

“Your turn,” Josh says, nodding to the door so that Jake will go help with the rest of their stuff.

Jake rolls his eyes and takes another swig of his beer before huffily standing up and walking outside. Josh eyes Y/N sitting silently across from him and takes a swif from his brother’s beer.

“I’m assuming he offered his share and then is planning to drink an extra of one of ours.”

She chuckles nervously, eyes shifting away from Josh and around the room. “You guys know each other well.”

“Brothers. Twins.” He shrugs, still watching her intently.

She discards her half-empty beer and stands, bee-lining for her bag. “I’ve got new stuff for you guys.”

Josh rolls his eyes, but feels a little bug of worry squirming in. The insecurity he had felt on Sunday had vanished with how normal they had been in class, but this made him feel like something was certainly off.

“Here,” She places the vest and medallion necklace she’d found for Josh beside his head on the back of the couch. “And here’s this for you, Danny.” She turned from Josh before he could even thank her, handing Danny a tank style shirt she thought he’d like. Sam received a flowy floral button down while Jake got a fringe leather jacket that she had been searching for all semester for him.

Jake beamed, his eyes shiny and his smile taking over his entire face. She smiled back at him, trying to fully feel the gratitude he was giving her. She watched as he tried it on and spread his arms in the mirror, admiring the movement.

“This is going to be so fuckin’ sick,” He laughed, slightly in disbelief, touching over the jacket constantly. “I can’t thank you enough, Y/N.”

She blushed a bit, feeling everyone’s eyes on her, especially Josh’s from his place on the couch. He was holding his vest in his lap, sullen that he had never thanked her so profusely for the things she found him.

“It’s my dream job–and if you guys ever get famous, I’ll make you real stage outfits. However you want.” Jake’s giddy energy was overpowering her nerves. It felt great.

The green room was a fun atmosphere for the rest of the hour leading up to their set. Josh pushed himself out of his pining and focused on the revelry. But before the band was about to go on, Josh hung back, leaving him alone with Y/N.

She saw him stall at the door, his hand catching the frame. His vest was tan suede tonight, with silver pieces swirling into pockets on the front and creating a pattern across his back. He turned around and she paused, once more at the table, beginning to clean up wrappers.

“I wanted to say thank you for all the vests and stuff you’ve found me this semester, August.”

She watched Josh cross the room to her. “It’s nothing. Like I said, dream job.”

Josh pressed closer and threaded his hand through her hair. His breath was warm against her skin. She finally met his eyes.

“I miss you.”

“You’ve seen me all week.”

Josh’s forehead drops against hers, his free hand coming to her waist. It’s hot and firm and she feels the breath leave her lungs. Her body presses closer to him.

“Not what I meant.”

“Josh…” She wants to kiss him so bad. Wants him to kiss her. Her hands are grasping at his forearms in a way she hopes isn’t too desparate. “You’ve got a show to play.”

His hand moves slowly from her waist across her stomach to the center of her jean skirt. His fingers fiddle with the button, slipping them below the waistband, feeling more fabric.

“It’s a shame.” His breathing was heavy. His nose kept nudging hers.

She licked her lips and swallowed.

“Really wish you weren’t wearing tights,” He murmurs before pressing a hot kiss to her lips.

Before she can really feel him against her, he’s pulling away and snapping the black lycra that he had wiggled his finger into against her skin. A sharp gasp sounds and he’s walking out the door to the stage, looking far too much like a rockstar than she’d like. After a few moments of attempting to collect herself, she leaves the trash to be dealt with later and follows Josh to see the start of the show.

This show was electric. Everyone was playing their best. Jake was rocking with his guitar so much that the fringe flew around, making the crowd of college-aged women the band had amassed go wild. Josh was strutting around the stage, raising his arms as he hit notes and dancing with Jake every so often.

Jake tried to convince the manager to let Sam and Danny into the front of house. ‘It’s not like they don’t have IDs that say they’re old enough,’ he reasoned conspiratorially. He was over the moon and he wanted everyone to celebrate since winter break was coming up and their show would be taking a rest for a while. Her manager relented, but Josh almost crushed his twin’s soul when he said he needed to go home to work on editing.

Sam and Danny’s exuberance at being able to drink at the bar overpowered Jake’s protestations to Josh, leaving Y/N and Josh alone in the green room once more. He smirked with great satisfaction as he shrugged the vest from his shoulders and began to pull his t-shirt back over his head.

“Where were we?” He saunters back over and she’s happy to see regular Josh instead of the rockstar Josh who had ambushed her earlier.

Yet, she remembered him. And she remembered his performance tonight. How low his pants were slung around his hips. A pair of tight black vinyl pants she had found him about a month ago. His happy trail had meandered down to disappear beneath the fabric she had chosen for him. Now, he was straining against those pants and she shut her eyes, coming to terms with what she was about to do.

“It’s your turn, Josh.” She meets him in the middle of the room, backing him up against the arm of the bigger leather couch. She caged him in for a moment, looking him up and down. Josh’s eyes were wide in surprise. “Sit on the couch.”

He is a bit confused, but doesn’t argue, shuffling to sit down as quickly as possible.

“Eager, huh?”

“Now who’s being mean?”

She grins and walks to stand in front of Josh, dropping to her knees with quiet ease and practice. Josh immediately throws his head back, sinking lower into the chair.

“Oh my god.”

“Didn’t want to leave you hanging,” She smiled. Running her hands over the tops of Josh’s vinyl clad thighs. “I could see it while you were on stage. At least,” She paused to chuckle. “More than usual.”

Josh sighed, eyes fluttering open to stare at her between his legs again. She was so beautiful even when she smiled at him so wickedly.

“Want your cock in my mouth, Josh?”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Josh couldn’t take the teasing of her hands and her words.

“Just say ‘please’.” She stared at Josh seriously. Her hands toying with the button and zipper of his pants now, brushing just over his hardening length.

“Please, please, fucking please.” He rushed out.

She laughed and shook her head. “God, fine. Relax.”

Her hands expertly unhooked the button and slid the zipper down with practiced hands of a costumer. This was far more explicit than any of the other times she had undressed someone. Josh’s cock was hot and heavy in her hand and her core ached at the memory of where it had been almost a week ago. She ran her tongue against it and Josh groaned.

She lavished his head with a few kisses and looked up at Josh, beginning to suck on the side of it. “So pretty,” She murmurs.

Josh’s hips bucked in response, his hand going to rest in her hair, but careful not to guide her. He wanted to see what she did. She gathered a pool of spit to let fall onto his thick cock before languidly running her hand over the length, hoping to tease him a little more. She hadn’t forgotten the treatment he gave her on Saturday. Josh’s hips bucked again and he groaned her name.

Taking his head fully in between her lips, she took pity on him. Beginning her descent, she attempted to get him all in her throat but had about a handful left when he hit the back of her throat. She hummed around him and he jerked in her throat, causing her to fall back. She massaged her lips around the place where his head met the shaft before trying again. One hand on his thigh and one beneath his shirt, she bobbed her head slowly, suctioning occasionally until Josh was hissing about being close again.

She pulled off him and smiled at him from her position. Her lips were wet with saliva and precum. Josh’s eyes were half closed in pleasure but he couldn’t believe the look on her face. Breathing heavy, flushed from taking him down her throat. Her hand moved along his length faster.

“Tell me when,” She murmured, eyes moving from Josh’s face to her movements around him.

Josh nodded, trying to stay still. Overwhelmed. “Now.”

Her lips reattached to his head, sucking a little harder, while her hand still worked near the base. Josh’s hips bucked in time with the spurts that hit the back of her throat and she clenched around nothing, wishing more than anything that she was brave enough to attempt penetrative sex in public.

She pulled off and swallowed, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth with a tired sigh. Josh’s satisfied smile watched her in awe, tucking himself away after a few moments of heavy panting.

“Jesus Christ,” Josh breathed, petting at her hair before bringing her to kiss his lips. “Thank you. Wow. Just… so talented.”

“Josh Kiszka not having the right words,” She smiled against his lips. She pulled away and ruffled his hair. “I must be good.”

Josh sputtered, jumping to his feet and following her to the side of the door where she was grabbing her coat and extra stuff.

“Do you need a ride home again?”

Josh scratched at the back of his neck. “Uh, I guess. Can’t really go out there and tell ‘em I need their keys when I was supposed to have left 20 minutes ago. Plus they’re probably expecting me to come pick them up eventually so I need my car for that.”

“Josh,” She stopped his rambling. Her hand pressed flat against his upper chest, bringing his eyes to hers. “Relax. My jaw’s too tired to give you another stress relieving head session.”

Josh shut up and nodded. She smiled, pleased with herself. They grabbed their stuff and headed for her Volvo after she locked the green room door.

“Driving you home like you’re my little bitch,” She stated half-way through the drive she now knew without directions.

“Shut up.” Josh sounded annoyed but really he was smiling, staring out at the passing streets.

When they pull up to his house, Josh pauses. “Do you wanna come in?”

“Can’t tonight. See you soon though.”

She kisses his lips tenderly, cupping his strong jaw in a way neither of them had ever expected.

Mid December and the semester was over. Their short film was a success. It was the last Thursday Greta Van Fleet would be performing at Lover’s Inn until the new year. Josh and Y/N hadn’t had time to talk about them with the rush of finals and getting the film in in time for screening. There had been stolen kisses during late final cut editing nights and in the empty hallways of the film building, but nothing else.

Josh had arrived with Y/N, helping her set up so that she could be done early and they could have alone time before the rest of the band started to arrive. They were so excited to be done with everything, so pleased with themselves, that they were hurriedly making out against the snack table, unable to keep their hands off of one another a moment longer.

So wrapped up in one another, exchanging words of teasing and searing lips against soft skin, they don’t hear Danny and Jake walking in.

With Y/N pressed against the table, Jake and Danny get an eyeful of her hands on Josh, one on his waist pulling him closer and the other grabbing at his right jean-clad ass cheek.

Danny whistling loudly and Jake clapping his hands together leisurely cause them to spring apart. Josh spins around, flushed and out of breath while Y/N adjusts the top of her shirt that Josh had pushed to the side for more access to her skin.

“About time,” Jake says with a happy smile, stalking to place down his guitar case.

Danny laughs and Sam walks in shortly behind them, silent for a moment, appraising the situation before understanding and exclaiming: “To the happy couple!”

Josh groans at his brothers’ smug looks before smiling. She laughs, hiding her head behind Josh’s shoulder in mild embarrassment. Everyone cheers and it feels silly that they ever detested being in the same room as one another.

During their final performance, Josh waxes eloquent about his wondrous time he’s spent on this very stage. He thanks everyone and then pauses, searching the audience for Y/N.

“Now this next one goes out to my lover,” He says as he winks. “You know who you are!”

The crowd goes wild and a softer than usual guitar riff comes in from Jake’s playing.

“August, honey / Tasted sweeter with you / Sticky fingers / From your own residue,” He sang.

Jake got to kick up the guitar. The three guys even sang the little backing ‘ooh’s into their mics that were rarely used.

“We don’t talk about it / We don’t have the time / We thought love was something / We weren’t meant to find.”

Josh’s voice is a perfect fit for the cover, she thinks it sounds even better than the original.

“But don’t you remember / August, honey, you were mine!”

It hurts her heart to realize why her name was ‘August’ in Josh’s phone and not for the asshole-ish reason he had originally told her. Sure, they’d met in August three years ago, that was still true, but she’d also mentioned this song to him. When they’d first been paired up freshman year, he had asked her what the song was that was paused on her phone when he handed it back after typing in his number. Always being scatterbrained, especially at 18, he must have written it over her name…And it was ‘August’.

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