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sluttywoozi · 9 months

Text

Rating: M | WC: ~8.2k (mostly smut)

Geonwoo's your best friend and there's nothing you wouldn't do for him. Including doing him.

Warnings: i say geonwoo’s not into guys but it’s just for the purposes of this fic he can do whatever/whoever he wants, virgin!geonwoo, lots of consent checks, mention of sti testing and pregnancy prevention, marking, pussydrunk!geonwoo, bigdick!geonwoo, fingering, oral f rec., multiple orgasms, condomless sex, creampie, lost the plot ten pages into the smut so sorry

Reader Notes: has a vagina and breasts, smaller than geonwoo (height and hands)

“You want me to do what?” You question, alarm bells ringing in your head.

“We want you to take Geonwoo’s virginity,” Woojin replies cheerfully, rubbing his knees and punctuating his sentence with a smile.

“Geonwoo, is this true?” You speak slowly, dragging your eyes from Woojin’s to Geonwoo’s.

“Mm,” he nods quickly, his lips pressed together and his hands wringing in his lap.

“Okay… Why me? And why now?”

Woojin opens his mouth but you shoot him a glare to cut him off, needing to hear it from Geonwoo himself. You raise your eyebrows when he doesn’t speak and he takes a quick breath, holding it like he’s steeling himself.

“Well, uh,” he looks around, avoiding your gaze, “I trust you the most, besides Woojin. And I’m not into guys, I think, so it can’t be him.”

“And as for why now, he-,”

“Woojin, let him-,”

Geonwoo steps in before you and Woojin can get into it, used to the way you bicker after all these months with the two of you.

“I’m turning 26 soon. I’m not embarrassed about still being a virgin but I don’t want it to become a thing, you know?”

You nod, unable to find a flaw in his logic.

“And this is a group discussion because…”

“Well, Geonwoo couldn’t ask you by himself, could he?”

“Couldn’t he?” You respond, a doubtful quirk to your brow.

Geonwoo purses his lips and shakes his head, “I really couldn’t. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for weeks now.”

Woojin nods in confirmation next to him, his eyes serious and his mouth shut, for once.

There’s a lot for you to consider before you can give them, him, your answer. You’ve been friends with Geonwoo for a long time now, and you’re not sure you’re willing to risk complicating the relationship you have with sex. There’s also the responsibility that comes with being someone’s first, the desire to make it good for them, to take care of them.

“Do I have to decide now?”

They both rush to shake their heads, a long stream of, “No, no, no,” leaving Woojin.

“Take as much time as you need,” Geonwoo adds with wide eyes and a small, sweet smile.

You’re honestly not sure why it wasn’t an immediate no, and you have some things to think about now that you know at least some part of you wants to do it.

You stand, wanting to excuse yourself from this bizarre situation so you can do some reflecting. They both rise when you do, staying on their feet until you leave the room. You can feel Geonwoo’s eyes on you as you walk away, and you can’t say it’s a feeling you dislike.

It’s official, you’re going insane.

Ever since Woojin and Geonwoo planted the idea of you taking Geonwoo’s virginity in your mind, it’s all you can think about.

He’s the first thing on your mind when you wake and the last thing before you fall asleep, and even in your dreams, you’re still thinking about him.

Him and his big brown eyes and his undercut and his bulging muscles and his soft, sweet, reserved demeanor.

Him and how he would act in the bedroom, how he would touch you, how he would talk (if he would, and that’s a big if).

You’ve seen him let loose before, seen him fight for both his life and yours, but you’ve never seen him like this. You’re starting to fear that’s something you’ll have to fix.

“See you tomorrow, mom,” Geonwoo calls out the door, watching his mother walk down the hallway to her own apartment and get safely inside. He used to escort her to and from her door until she showed him the taser Mr. Oh got her. He backed off then, but still likes to make sure she gets in safe.

Returning to the dirty dishes in the kitchen, he stands at the sink, elbow deep in hot, soapy water and trying not to think about what he asked you last week.

Well, what he and Woojin asked you.

You’ve been his friend for years now. He first met you when you started working at his mom’s cafe, he grew closer to you when you moved into the spare bedroom, and now he’s terrified that he’s ruined everything.

You’re still normal enough around him, maybe zoning out a little more often and maybe a tiny bit short-tempered, but fine otherwise. It could be an act though, a facade you put up while you decide how to tell him no and also that you’re quitting the cafe and leaving town and never coming back. That would break his heart, and his mom’s too, and he prays he’s just overthinking.

His hands sweep around to search for more dishes but find nothing, so with a sigh, he lets the sink drain. Now he’ll have to find something else to keep his mind occupied, not that it was working very well. He could go train, but he’s already worked out today and he has a feeling he’ll be experiencing the wrath of Mr. Oh if he pushes himself any further. He’d like to avoid that, so-

“Geonwoo? Can we talk?”

Oh god.

He keeps his back turned, one of the only signs of disrespect he’s ever shown you, but he can’t stand to see the apologetic look on your face as you tell him no (and that you’re leaving forever, never to be seen or heard from again, all because of him).

“Look at me, please.”

He glances at you over his shoulder, long enough to see your open expression and the kindness in your eyes. You don’t seem as weighed down as you have lately, and he fully turns to face you, trying to hide how nervous he feels.

Folding his hands behind his back so he can drum his fingers on the counter unseen, he waits for you to speak.

“I was just thinking about what you asked me, I mean, I’ve been thinking about it all week but,” you shake your head like you need to clear it before continuing, “I’ll do it.”

Your last three words don’t register, and the meaning of them doesn’t either. He’s stuck on you saying you’ve been thinking about it, this, all week. He’s been thinking about it too, thinking about you, and it makes him feel a lot better to know you’ve been doing the same.

“Did you hear me?” You ask, confused at his lack of reaction.

“I heard you, you said you’ve been thinking about it. That’s good,” he assures you, his hands stilling as he leans against the counter.

“Geonwoo, I also said that I would do it.”

“Do what?” He asks, wondering if he can go with you to do whatever it is.

“Do it. You. Take your virginity.”

His heart thuds, squeezes, then stops.

“You will?”

He’s glad he was braced against something because his knees feel weak and his head is spinning. He’s been trying not to think about you in that way since before he asked you to do this, and now that you’ve agreed, he just knows his thoughts will be running rampant.

“Yes, I will. But we’ve gotta work out the logistics,” you remind him, rounding the island to lean against the counter next to him.

Your sudden proximity makes him straighten up before the scent of you soothes him, the familiar blend bringing him comfort like it always does.

“Logistics like… when?”

“That and whether or not we’re using a condom and we should probably get tested first and-,” you stop yourself before taking your phone from your pocket and typing rapidly, “I need to write this down.”

There’s so much more to consider than Geonwoo thought, but he won’t let it deter him. The two of you have always made a good team, and this won’t be any different, he’s sure.

Geonwoo and you spend the next few days planning. His birthday is next month and you decide together to set it as an informal deadline, though he’s sure it won’t be the end of the world if he loses his virginity at 26 instead of 25.

He’s telling Woojin about the details you’ve decided on when Woojin cuts him off.

“Bro, where’s the romance? Where’s the passion?” He says, slapping a hand on the table to emphasize his words. “This is all so… technical. This is why you shouldn’t be doing this without me.”

“Without you? You won’t be there, will you?”

“Tch, no, you know what I mean,” he grumbles before launching into the story of his own first time.

Geonwoo contemplates the rest of Woojin’s point, but honestly, things with you lately have been feeling romantic.

You’ve been sitting alone in his bedroom, close enough to whisper so that nobody else hears you, and talking about how exactly you’ll have sex with each other. He knows that doesn’t sound too romantic, but to him, it is.

Geonwoo loves planning, and he loves alone time, and he loves how you sound when you speak all low and secretive and logical. He doesn’t love talking, but luckily for him, you do the majority of it and the most he has to do is listen and respond, and he likes doing that too.

As for passion, he’s been feeling… plenty… of that. Too much, probably.

When you’re around, you’re all he can focus on. Anyone else can be in the room and he’ll be looking at you, talking to you, listening to you. Except for Woojin and his mom, of course, but even then, he’s got you in the back of his mind.

When you’re gone, he can’t stop thinking about you; where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re with. If you’re with a guy. A guy who’s better with words than he is, a guy who’s experienced, a guy who hasn’t put you through so much.

A guy who isn’t him.

But then Geonwoo reminds himself that you love him (platonically) and find him attractive enough (physically) to have sex with him, and he feels better.

“Dude, are you even listening to me right now? What did I just say? Hm?” Woojin questions, offense clear in his tone and his furrowed eyebrows.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I wasn’t,” he ducks as Woojin takes a fake swipe at him. To be fair, he’s heard this story before, and he has something important to think about: you.

(He makes it up to Woojin later with all you can eat pork belly buffet).

Today’s the day.

Well, tonight’s the night.

You went over to Geonwoo and Woojin’s place around 6 PM dressed in your largest t-shirt and your comfiest yoga pants with an overnight bag in hand. Woojin is sleeping at Mr. Moon’s so you have the place to yourselves, and you both got tested three days ago with negative results. You discussed using condoms, but considering that you have protection in place and it’s Geonwoo’s first time, you’ve decided to skip them. Geonwoo already had everything prepared: another set of sheets at the ready, multiple options for movies to watch, and an order for an enormous amount of takeout.

You’re waiting on it now, sitting next to him on the couch and feeling a slight sense of awkwardness in the air. He’s being particularly shy, speaking only when asked a question but listening with wide, fascinated eyes, and you have to admit, it’s doing it for you.

You worried that you would feel some sort of hang up about being Geonwoo’s first, but when all the history is taken away, you’re two consenting adults that apparently want to have sex. So why shouldn’t you?

The doorbell rings before you can remind yourself of said history, and Geonwoo immediately shoots to his feet to answer it. He thanks (and tips) the delivery person quickly and returns with the food, carefully ripping the bag open to spread everything out on the coffee table.

The two of you make fast work of the takeout, bar the containers you decided to save for later, and clean up the mess left behind. Dinner breaks the ice, allowing you and Geonwoo to talk as friends/people who might become more.

As the night progresses, you watch his nerves grow again. It’s after he’s wiped his hands on his joggers for the fifth time that you pause the movie and turn on the couch to face him. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights and you wish you could placate him, but you think it may be better to just rip off the bandaid.

“Do you still wanna do this?” You ask gently, bringing a hand to his shoulder and squeezing. You’re about to mindlessly squeeze again, his muscles feeling firm but squishy somehow under your fingers, when he nearly shouts, “Yes!” and shrinks, making you assume his volume was unintended. You love his enthusiasm though, and the fact that you know you can ask him what he wants and he’ll tell you. Or at least answer yes or no questions.

“Do you want to go to your bedroom now, then? I feel like you’re just getting more nervous the longer we wait.”

He nods in response and springs to his feet, holding a hand out to help you from the couch and tug you to his room. It’s always tidy in there but you can see he’s made an extra effort in the candles dotted around the room and the oil diffuser sitting on his dresser. He leads you to his bed, letting you sit first before settling closer to you than he typically would. His hands stay clasped together in his lap, and it occurs to you that you may need to tell him what to do.

You usually aren’t one to be in charge when it comes to sex, but you’ll do anything for Geonwoo and this obviously counts as anything. You can call the shots tonight if that’s what he needs, and hopefully you’ll help him build up some confidence for whoever he’s with next. You can also pretend your heart doesn’t flip in your chest whenever you think of there being a next.

Geonwoo shifts next to you on the bed, his hands resting on his thighs and his form tense. You have to figure out how to unwind him, how to make him feel safe with you, and you feel like the first barrier to cross is his reticence with touching you. He’s always kept himself at arms’ length, enough so that when you saw how he and Woojin behaved, you honestly felt kind of jealous. He’s never had that ease with you, and you used to live with him.

At least you have the opportunity to change that now. Your hand only shakes a little bit as you reach out to cover Geonwoo’s. He jumps when you come into contact with him, but quickly opens his hands to accept yours. You can’t help but note how long and calloused his fingers are, your mind running to how they would feel on you and, dare you say it, in you.

“We can go slow,” you promise, “And I can guide you, if you want.”

“Yes, I think that would be good,” Geonwoo agrees with a squeeze of your hand. “Eventually, I would like to try to… I don’t know how to say it, be in charge?”

“We can do that,” you nod, heat flooding your stomach at the thought of Geonwoo taking the reins, holding you down, fucking you how he wants. You know there may be some fumbling before you get there, but by God you hope you do. “Why don’t we start with a kiss?”

Geonwoo hums and leans forward almost imperceptibly, just enough for you to crane your neck and press your lips to his. You keep it gentle, slow, getting him used to you with little pecks and small sucks. He finds your rhythm faster than you expect, timidly kissing you back and bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

You try to push down the giddy shiver that rises at him touching you so delicately, but a little shake still makes its way through your shoulders. Geonwoo notices, of course, exhaling a laugh against your lips that sparks a smile in return, and soon enough, you’re both grinning too wide to kiss anymore.

“This is kinda fun,” you breathe, pulling back to brush some errant hair out of his eyes.

“It is,” he agrees, smiling shyly and grazing your cheekbone with his thumb. “Should we keep going?”

You nod and lean in again, locking your lips with his and swallowing a sigh at the plushness of them. Gently, you swipe your tongue over his bottom lip, waiting for his mouth to open before just barely gliding it against his in a tentative motion. He gasps, his lips parting further and his tongue tangling with yours as his hand shifts to cradle your jaw. His fingers wrap around the back of your neck and tilt your head back to give him the angle he wants, and you’re not sure he’s aware that he’s doing it but it’s still so hot that you let a weak little sound escape into his mouth.

Geonwoo presses his lips harder against yours, shifting closer on the bed until your knees touch and his warmth radiates into you. It’s the closest he’s been to you in a while, beyond the occasional hug and pat on the back, and already his proximity is making you dizzy. The lightheadedness could also have something to do with his scent, soft and clean but handsome and manly too, just like Geonwoo himself.

You didn’t think kissing alone would have this effect on you, or that you’d want to do more than kissing so soon, but here you are, sitting next to him on his bed and struggling not to climb right into his lap. His thighs are just so thick and strong and welcoming, and you’d fit so well together, but you’ve only just started and it’s probably best to keep things slow. Which means not straddling him and kissing him breathless without warning.

But you can do that with a warning, though, right?

“Geonwoo, can I sit in your lap?”

He gasps out a yes and takes your hand with his free one, helping you climb atop him and get settled. You’re not pressed too snugly against him yet, but you can already feel the heat stirring between your bodies. You’re starting to get wet, your core pulsing in time with your heart, and when you shuffle a bit closer, something bumps against your thigh.

Geonwoo moans softly into your mouth, shifting both hands to your hips and squeezing, like he wants to pull you into him but he’s not sure if he can. You inch further into his lap and his grip tightens, his chest brushing against yours with every breath.

You can feel Geonwoo getting bolder, more confident, as he starts to take control of the kiss. He slides his tongue into your mouth, humming when you suck on it and smiling when you rest a hand on his shoulder.

You’ve definitely been looking forward to getting your hands on him, and it’s even better than you imagined. He’s so dense and big, with power wrapped up in every muscle. You’ve never gotten to touch anyone like him before, or be with anyone like him before, and it’s honestly exhilarating.

His shoulder is firm beneath your fingers, the warmth seeping through his t-shirt reminding you that you’re both fully clothed. Geonwoo seems more comfortable with touching you, so now could be a good time to lose some layers.

“Should we take these off?” You break the kiss to ask, giggling at his resulting pout and tugging at the edge of his shirt.

He responds by hauling the shirt off himself and letting it drop to the floor before slipping his hands beneath the fabric of yours. His palms are warm on your stomach, points of connection that sear your nerve endings and send your heart thumping, and as he drags them up, your shirt goes with them.

He stops just below your breasts, his thumbs skimming the underwire of your bra and his fingers spread over your rib cage, before looking up at you with a question in his eyes. You raise your arms in response, easing the way of the shirt and showing Geonwoo that you’re comfortable. When the fabric clears your head, you catch sight of the expression on Geonwoo’s face and sigh happily. He looks awed, enraptured, reverent, and you haven’t even taken your bra off yet.

You reach behind your back to find the clasp but Geonwoo stops you with a gentle hand, “Can I try?”

He fumbles for a bit but figures it out eventually, beaming at you when the clasp comes apart and your bra goes limp. You can’t help but smile back, squeezing his hands where he lets them rest on your thighs. The undergarment dangles from your shoulders and Geonwoo’s eyes grow wide at the idea of seeing you bare, but he doesn’t make a move to take it off. He must not be sure if he’s allowed to, so you let it slip a couple of inches, watching as he stares with bated breath.

Being able to captivate him like this is a heady feeling, but you won’t take advantage of it this time, won’t make him wait. The bra slides down your arms and to the bed, and Geonwoo stops breathing. You sit primly on his lap with your legs straddled over his spread thighs, trying to keep your heart steady as you let him look his fill.

When he still hasn’t moved, you take hold of his hands and bring them to your stomach, telling him, “You can touch me, Geonwoo.”

He sucks in a deep breath, his trembling hands slowly rising to cover your breasts. They’re so warm and big on you, calloused from lifting and strong from fighting. They’re perfect, and you let your head tip back as his palms brush over your nipples.

You almost jump when he leans forward to kiss your neck, shocked but pleased by his initiative. He’s gentle, just pressing his lips to your skin and softly sucking in a path leading to your collarbone.

His teeth dig in a little and you do startle in his lap, making him pull away to check on you.

“Was that okay?” he asks nervously, scared that he’s overstepped.

“Yes! Yes, I didn’t expect you to do that, but I liked it.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief and returns his mouth to your collarbone, nipping at your delicate skin and pulling away to look at the indent he’d left.

He shares a secretive smile with you, his eyes giddy like he’s doing something he knows he’s not supposed to.

“Can I leave some marks? I like how they look on you.”

“You can leave however many you want as long as my clothes cover them.”

He nods resolutely, smoothing his thumb over the bruise he’d left on your collarbone and bending further to kiss across the tops of your breasts.

You arch your back to give him more room to work, inadvertently shifting over the hardness in his joggers and making him groan around the flesh bitten between his teeth.

He pulls away with a pop, his eyes wide and dark and his thighs tense under you.

“Should I keep doing that?” you ask him, your voice embarrassingly breathy and your hips itching to move.

“Please,” he says, one of his hands dropping to grasp your hip and pull you over him again. “Feels good.”

You can’t hold back the smile, pleased that he’s being open and losing some of the propriety he always maintains with you. He smiles back before leaning down and pressing a trail of kisses down to your pebbled nipple.

He tentatively sucks it into his warm, wet mouth, making you gasp and grind on him, your hips inching over until you can sit yourself right on his stiffening dick.

He feels big, because of course he would be, and you can feel yourself get wetter at the thought of seeing him, touching him, feeling him.

You’ll let him explore first though, let him get acquainted with your body and what it’s like to give someone else pleasure. It was something you had to learn too, and you’re glad you get to be the one to teach him.

He’s a quick study, you find. Lightly nipping at your left nipple with his teeth and rolling the right with his fingertips, cupping the weight of your breast with one hand and grinding you over his bulge with the other.

It already feels so good, and with the pressure and friction on your core, it’s almost too good. But you won’t stop him, not when he seems to be finding his stride, and definitely not when he’s so hard that you can feel the shape of him, feel just how long and thick he is. You’ll have to show him how to stretch you out, how to help you take him, and you honestly can’t wait.

“Woo, do you-,” you gasp, feeling a groan vibrate into your skin as soon as his nickname leaves your lips. You don’t use it often, only when you’re particularly tired or happy, and apparently, when you’re about to beg him to touch you.

He pulls away with a hum and licks his lips before asking, “Do I what?”

“Do you want to go further? I can feel how big you are, you’ll need to get me ready first.”

“Will you show me how?” He asks, as if you could ever leave him in the dark like that.

“Of course I will,” you assure him, cupping his scarred cheek in your hand and bringing him into a soft kiss. You break away before you can get too distracted and attempt to get off of his lap without revealing how shaky your knees are. They’re difficult to hide and you have to brace your hands on his shoulders, but you manage to get your feet on the floor somehow and dip your fingers into the waistband of your yoga pants.

He stops you before you can push them down and you can tell he’s about to ask if he can remove them himself, so you slip your hands out of his grasp and place them on his shoulders for stability again.

He flashes a quick smile at you, tucking his fingers into the elastic and pulling the stretchy fabric down. You feel it as soon as you step out of your bottoms, how wet you are. It’s soaked through your panties, and you’re not sure whether or not you want Geonwoo to notice.

Thankfully, he doesn’t. His thumbs hook in the sides of your underwear, his eyebrows raising in a question that you answer with a nod. He tugs them down your legs slowly, his gaze staying locked with yours until they hit the floor.

His eyes go heavy lidded as he looks at you, his kiss-swollen lips parting on a sigh and his warm hands settling on your hips. You feel kind of exposed but you don’t want to interrupt him as he seems to be growing more sure of himself.

You do want him to be as naked as you are though, so you squeeze his hands and say, “Your turn?”

He nods, rising to his feet and standing nearly flush with you. His warmth radiates out, his toned chest brushing against your breasts with each breath. You bring your hands to his waistband, tucking your fingers in between his joggers and his underwear.

“You can take it all off,” he offers, his voice deeper than you’re used to but no less gentle.

“If that’s what you want.” You take hold of his boxers and pants and begin to push them down, the backs of your fingers dragging along his skin until they’re low enough to fall on their own. He steps out of them and further into you, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist when you set your hands on his toned stomach.

The air between you is warm and thick with tension as your palms slide up his chest to wrap around his neck and pull him down into a kiss. He hums against your lips, turning in a slow circle so your back is to the bed and gently pushing you onto it.

You sit heavily, bouncing in place and watching as he kneels before you. Your legs stay clasped together, shyness keeping them closed, and he sets his hands on them with a soft squeeze.

“Show me?”

“Geonwoo, your knees will-“

“My knees will be fine. Show me? Please?”

You slowly spread your legs apart, leaning back on your hands to stabilize yourself as you let him see you bare for the first time.

He breathes in a ragged gasp, exhaling, “You’re so… wet.”

“That’s a good thing,” you assure him, operating under the assumption that he doesn’t know much about sex.

“Oh,” he sighs, relieved and smiling as his hands slide up your thighs.

When his thick, calloused fingers come into contact with your core, you have to fight back a shiver. It’s been a while for you, and even Geonwoo’s timid touches are more than you’re used to. His digits glide through your folds, catching on your clit and making you gasp, “There, Geonwoo.”

He listens to you attentively, tucking half his fingers away so he can rub with two fingertips, his eyes darting back and forth between your center and your face. He starts with an up-down motion, furrowing his brows and spreading your folds open with his other hand so he can see better. You feel a bit bashful but you want him to explore, want him to feel comfortable with you and with how to pleasure you, so you take a deep breath and widen your legs further.

He presses a kiss to your inner thigh in thanks and shuffles closer, fascination and focus clear in his expression as he gets to know you in this way. He’s methodical, experimenting with different motions and keeping his eyes on your face the whole time to gauge what you like best. When he lands on little circles that make your back arch and your eyelids flutter, he stops testing shapes to concentrate on finding the pace you prefer, starting slow and gradually speeding up until you tell him, “Like that! Like that, Geonwoo.”

He shifts forward out of excitement, his face close enough to you that you can feel his breaths, feel his hair brushing your inner thighs, feel the warmth radiating off of him. You love his enthusiasm, his dedication to learning you and making you feel good, and you shouldn’t have expected any less. Geonwoo gives his all to everything he does, of course that would include you.

“I’m definitely wet enough now, you can, um, put a finger in. Palm up,” You instruct shakily, watching as he removes the hand spreading you open and brings it back with his palm up, just like you said. He dips the tip of his finger into your entrance, a trembling sigh leaving him when he feels you for the first time.

“How are you so hot and soft and wet inside? You feel perfect,” He nearly moans, letting his finger slide in all the way. It’s longer, thicker than yours, and the little bit of stretch it gives you is delicious.

“Move it in and out, and you can kind of curl up and try to find-”

You yelp as Geonwoo’s fingertip prods your g-spot immediately, his finger the perfect length to reach it. He gasps and looks at you, fearful of your reaction before you assure him, “That was good! That’s where you want to aim, okay? And you can add another.”

“Okay!” He nods, beaming, and returns his attention to between your legs. He pulls his finger out and returns with two, his mouth open and his eyes half-lidded as he watches them sink inside you. Seemingly mesmerized, Geonwoo starts up a slow rhythm, his gaze locked on his fingers as they disappear in and out of you.

Once he has a good pattern down, he curls them again, the tips unerringly finding your g-spot and rubbing gently with every thrust. Your arms shake as he unknowingly starts to build you up, making you drop down to your elbows and let your head tip back.

“Does it feel good?” Geonwoo asks you breathlessly, making you tilt your chin enough to look down at him. His plush lips are parted, his eyes half-lidded but oh so curious and filled with a heat you’ve never seen in him before.

“So good, Geonwoo, you’re doing so good,” you sigh, biting back a smile as his ears turn a deep red at your words. Geonwoo loves to learn but he gets so shy when his efforts are recognized, and this is no different. You’ll have to be sure to praise him when you can, half because you want to reassure him and half because you really like how reactive he is to it.

You expected to have to make yourself cum tonight but you think Geonwoo just might get you there, every curl of his fingers pushing you closer to the edge. When he starts rubbing circles into your clit again, the heat building in your stomach takes on a searing edge.

“Put in one more,” you instruct, feeling a third finger squeeze its way inside you as soon as you finish speaking. “Spread them a bit, it’ll- it’ll help.”

His fingers push against the tightness of your walls, his breathing ragged as he carefully opens you up. The stretch is good, the feeling of his calluses on your throbbing clit even better, and as you begin the climb, you open your mouth to tell him (beg him) not to stop. But before you can say anything, Geonwoo speaks up.

“Can I use my mouth?”

Can he use his mouth? Where did this man come from? Heaven? Your dreams?

“Yes, Geonwoo, please, I’m getting close.”

He swears under his breath and leans forward, replacing the fingers on your clit with his warm, wet tongue. You lose some of your momentum as he gets used to the taste and feel of you, his tongue lapping at your folds with soft, broad strokes. It still feels good, but you need more if you’re going to cum.

Geonwoo seems to know without you telling him and wraps his plump lips around your bundle of nerves, giving you a short, cautious suck. Your thighs try to snap closed but you don’t let them, your muscles quivering as you attempt to hold your position. He notices, of course he notices, and uses his free hand to heft your leg up on his shoulder, sucking harder when you bring the other one up on your own.

His face is practically buried in your pussy now and with three of his fingers still filling you, you know you won’t last much longer. Your walls are starting to flutter and there’s a burn deep in your pelvis, a coil that only grows tighter and tighter with each purse of his lips around your clit. All he has to do is keep going and you’ll-

His fingers hook inside of you again making your hips buck against his mouth, and he lets out a groan so loud, the vibrations carry you right over the edge. Your eyes clench shut as you soar, white noise blanking out any thoughts beyond Geonwoo, Geonwoo, Geonwoo.

He doesn’t know to slow down and you don’t have the mental capacity to tell him to, his fingers rubbing your g-spot over and over again as he noisily sucks at your clit, bringing you through your orgasm and right up to another one. Your thighs shake, the icy bite of overstimulation starting to claw at you, and you let yourself fall back completely, your now free hands tangling in his cropped hair.

You could push him away, could stop him before he makes you cum again, but he’s just so good and it’s been so long and before you know it, you’re keening your way through a second release. Your thighs do snap shut this time, but he’s strong enough to break free if he needs to so you don’t worry, don’t think, don’t breathe.

All you do is feel. Feel his fingers inside you and his mouth around you and his breaths against you, feel the clenching of your core and the pulsing of your clit and the heat in your belly. You feel everything, and it’s almost too much but at the same time, it’s not enough.

You wonder if you’ll ever feel like you’ve had enough of Geonwoo, and before you can talk yourself out of your aftershocks of bliss, he slowly pulls his fingers out and slides his tongue in. You gasp brokenly at the sudden change but sigh as he wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you tight, holds you close.

“Geonwoo, don’t you want-”

He thrusts his tongue in and out, and your mouth closes with a click, your fingers shaking in his hair and your cheeks heating at the obscene sounds that escape from between you. Your head tilts back into the bed as he devours you, his tongue curling and pulling arousal from you like he wants to drink you down.

You’d let him, would let him do just about anything he wants to you at this point, you’re so boneless and brainless with pleasure. When he discovers he can push his nose into your clit while he fucks you with his tongue, you all but melt into the bed as a long, drawn out moan leaves your parted lips.

He groans in response, dimpling the flesh of your thighs under his fingertips, his grip growing tighter and tighter as you get wetter and wetter. You don’t know if you’ll be able to cum again, but if you can, you’d much rather cum on his dick than his tongue, so you assemble all the brain cells you have left and breathe, “Geonwoo, please, get up here.”

He pauses, his tongue halfway inside of you and his nose pushing against the hood of your clit. You both feel and hear his questioning noise, the confusion and reluctance clear in his hazy eyes.

“This was to get me ready and I definitely am now. Are you?” You laugh weakly, staring down at him as you card your fingers through his hair. His gaze grows heavy lidded, his tongue taking one last trip through your folds before he carefully pushes your thighs off his shoulders and rises to hover over you, bracketing your head with his forearms.

“I’m ready,” He exhales, his face shining and his big, leaking cock brushing against your thighs. You shiver at the sensation, already anticipating the stretch you’ll feel when he pushes inside for the first time.

He doesn’t seem like he needs you to tell him what to do anymore so you fall silent, watching him as he takes hold of his dick and lines it up with your entrance. You try to relax your inner muscles as he splits you open, but it’s difficult with the girth of him, his cock so wide you almost wish you’d told him to use four fingers instead of three. But you treasure the feeling, cherish the ache, and when he stops halfway in, you fear you’ll die if he doesn’t keep going.

“Why did you stop?” You gasp, his dick so big it’s like you can feel him in your throat.

“I’m trying not to cum,” he chokes out, his eyes clenched shut and his hands in fists beside your head.

Oh. Ohhhh, that’s hot.

“Take your time,” you wheeze, bringing your hands up to rub his toned back and doing your absolute best to stay still.

When Geonwoo has himself under control again, he continues to press inside of you, pushing deeper and deeper and deeper until he has nowhere left to go. Your breath catches in your lungs, the absolute fullness stealing every thought in your head.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice thin and shaky.

“I should be asking you that,” you half-moan, half-chuckle.

He huffs out a laugh, letting his forehead rest on your collarbone as you struggle to adjust to him. You know he can feel every flutter of your walls, every flex of your inner muscles, and you try to relax for him but it’s so hard when he’s the biggest you’ve ever taken.

After some deep breathing and wishful thinking, you think maybe you could stand to let him move. You’ve stretched a bit more, opened up a little, and with how wet you still are, he should be able to glide in and out.

“Geonwoo, I’m good, you can move now.”

“Are you sure?” He lifts his head to catch your eye, his restraint visible in his flexed abs and trembling arms.

“I’m sure,” you promise, bringing your hands up to rub his toned back as he pulls his hips away from yours and leaves you empty. The drag of his cock against your walls is exquisite, and you can’t contain the moan that bursts from you when he plunges back inside.

“How does it feel?” You gasp, your nails digging into his muscles and your legs wrapping around his waist.

“So fu- so good, tight and wet and hot and perfect,” he nearly sobs, “I won’t last.”

“That’s okay, Woo, you can cum whenever you want. And you can swear.”

He doesn’t normally curse in front of you, or much at all, and you’re nearly desperate to hear him uncensored. You want to know all sides of him, know him better than you know yourself, and you revel in the knowledge that now you know him like nobody else does.

It takes him a few strokes to find a rhythm but when he does, it’s devastating. He moves in and out of you slowly, but with power behind every thrust. You’re halfway up the bed before you even realize but Geonwoo just follows you, climbing up and using the new surface to fuck you even harder.

He’s so good at this already, but you shouldn’t be shocked. He’s got the heart of a boxer and the muscle control of one too, and that just means he’s even more efficient at building you up and breaking you down. You’re at the building up part now, the orgasm you weren’t sure you’d reach slowly coming into view as he shifts one shaking hand down between your legs.

“Cum with me?” He begs brokenly, his cock starting to twitch and leak inside of you. All you can do is nod, too busy whimpering at the feeling of his fingers on your clit and his big dick filling you up to form any words. He swears under his breath, his hips stuttering as one of his arms snakes under you to pull you into his chest. You cling to him, your body held almost fully aloft, and feel the rubber band in your stomach stretch thinner and thinner until finally, it snaps.

You clamp down so tight on him he can barely move, your walls swallowing around his cock and sucking it in deeper as he shatters with a groan. It’s the first time you’ve ever reached release with someone before, and immediately you know this is how it always should be. Your orgasm feeds into his and his into yours, his jerking dick drawing out every last bit of pleasure you can feel as he fills you up with his cum.

Your mind is hazy, your thoughts unspooled and messy, and your body hurts, your muscles sore and your core achey, but you’ve never felt better in your life. You’ve never been happier or more content than you are right now, with your numb legs and throbbing center and full, full, full pussy.

Geonwoo is still holding you to him with his face buried in your neck but he slowly collapses the arm holding him up, sinking down to the bed until he’s got half his weight on you. You want to see him, want to know what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking, but you can’t disturb him, can’t pop the bubble you’ve found yourself in with him.

It could be seconds, minutes, or hours until he pulls away. He’s gotten softer inside you but he still feels big, his cock plugging you up and keeping all of his cum from trickling out. When he lifts his head up to look at you, his eyes are misty, his lips are swollen, and his cheeks are red, and you swear he’s never been more beautiful to you.

“Thank you,” he breathes, his voice tight with an emotion you don’t recognize.

“Of course, Woo. I would do anything for you,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to cup his face. You brush over his cheekbones with your thumbs and pull him in closer, pressing a soft peck first upon his lips, then his nose, then his forehead. His eyes crinkle with a shy smile before he tilts his chin and captures your lips again in a sweet, slow kiss.

Your hips are growing sore, the need for a shower is growing urgent, and you think you even felt your stomach growl, but none of that feels more important than staying in his embrace. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him, and it might never happen again. You wish the thought didn’t settle in the pit of your stomach like a sinking stone, but here you are, wrapped around Geonwoo and trying to keep yourself from crying as he kisses you more gently than you’ve ever been kissed before.

You get too distracted by your somber realization to move your lips against his and he pulls away, furrowing his eyebrows when he sees the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, panicked and with his cheeks squished between your hands.

“No!” You rush to assure him. “No, you didn’t hurt me, I’m just…”

“You’re what?” His voice is tender, patient, encouraging, but you aren’t ready to bare yourself to him like this just yet, no matter how naked you already are.

Shaking your head, you pinch his cheek and force a smile, “I’m ready for a shower. Are you?”

He purses his lips, gazing at you knowingly but thankfully deciding to let you keep your secrets.

“Yeah, I am. Do you want to start the water while I strip the bed?”

“That sounds good.”

You nod to each other but neither of you make a move. It’s like you’re frozen, stuck in place until you give your unpleasant thoughts a voice. Geonwoo holds your gaze, his expression open and understanding, and you wish you could just tell him.

Tell him that you don’t want there to be any others after you. That you don’t want anyone else now that you’ve had him. That you don’t want this to be the first and last time. That the feelings you hold for him are no longer simply platonic.

But you open your mouth to speak and nothing comes out, the words caught in your throat as it starts to burn like it always does when you cry. You swallow down the tears, swallow down your fears and wishes and desires, and begin the process of removing yourself from him.

He allows it, slowly pulling away until he frees himself with a hiss, his fingers immediately covering your entrance to keep his cum from spilling out. Your cheeks heat at the intimacy of his touch, a small gasp escaping you as he breathes, “I wish you could keep it inside.”

You could always fill me up again, you think wistfully.

“Me too, Geonwoo,” you murmur instead.

You're alone in the shower letting the water run over your face so you can pretend you're not crying when you hear the door open. Geonwoo peeks his head around the edge of the curtain with a hopeful grin and asks, "Can I join you?"

You hold back a sniffle and nod, smiling weakly and stepping away from the spray so he has room to climb in. He does so gracefully, solid on his feet and confident in his balance, before turning to face you and taking you in his arms. He pulls you into a hug, your naked bodies pressed together under the warm rush of water, and you melt against him, your arms winding around his neck and your knees deciding to go on break.

"Do you think, maybe, I could, um, take you out on a date sometime? Like... as soon as possible?" He whispers into your neck, just loud enough for you to hear him over the shower.

Your heart stops, thumps one, two, three times, and then starts racing.

"I'm free right now."

Tagging: @calllmeifugetlost @againwithwonu @sparklingtragedy

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cosmal · 1 year

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤 — 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧

summary — you and remus lupin have become really good at stealing each other away from parties.

or but if you're too drunk to drive and the music is right, she might let you stay but just for the night....she might want a kiss before the end of this song.

warnings/tags — fem!afab!reader, she/her pronouns, modern!au, friends to lovers, absolute idiots in love, mutual pining, oblivious!reader, oblivious!remus, drunk!reader, drunk!remus, alcohol consumption

note — this is inspired by lovers rock by tv girl!!! i think this is the longest thing i've ever written. I do very much like it as of right now. that'll probably change in a week.

word count — 12.4k

“Thank Godric, you’re here,” Mary groans from her position on the front porch, Marlene leaning into her side. Both are clearly enjoying a cigarette away from the din of the party. You can tell what type of night it’s going to be already. Not that you’ve arrived two hours late anyway.

“I’ve never seen you so happy to see me, Mary,” you giggle, crossing the threshold of Sirius’s front lawn, careful not to trip on his collection of stolen garden gnomes.

“I’m always happy to see you, lovely.” She extends her hand, the cigarette between her lovely red nails on offer.

“You know who’s going to be even happier?” Marlene coughs, as you take the smoke thankfully, taking a few calming puffs.

You pretend like you have any idea who she’s referring to, “Jamie? Haven’t seen him in a while. Miss that boy,” you laugh, voice strained through the thick smoke you exhale.

“No, you idiot.” Mary pipes up and you hand the smoke back, “Remus. He hasn’t shut up about you all night.”

“That’s if he’s sober enough to even notice you’re here,” Marlene laughs and so does Mary. You smile, small enough to not show how happy you actually are that you get to see him. It’s been too long.

“He’s drinking?”

“Absolutely hammered. We were hoping you’d get here earlier so he wouldn’t drink too much. Please go look after him.” Mary throws her arm around Marlene and she snuggles in closer. They both look content enough to fall asleep right there in the cool summer breeze.

“I’m sure he’s doing okay.”

“I’m sure he will be when you get inside.”

You move to toe your shoes off at the front mat, kicking them away so they’re not a tripping hazard.

“When has Sirius ever done that at your house, Y/N?” Mary laughs, looking down at your socked feet

“Oh, no. This is for me. Don’t want to get my shoes dirty.” You laugh when you grab the handle of the flyscreen, swinging the door open.

The girls’ laughter becomes a distant murmur when you enter the kitchen, met with mostly everyone sitting around the dining table. A deal of cards in everyone’s hands, and piles of coins and sweets sat in the middle.

James and Lily laughing and glowing under the downcast of the orange lighting, appearing to seemingly be winning. Sirius and Frank having their own side bets, throwing coins around before both calling tails. Then, there's Remus. You try to ignore the hitch in your breath when your eyes land on the sandy-haired boy.

He really does look drunk, eyes droopy but still bright when he hiccups a laugh at something James says. A quiet, airy chuckle that has his mouth creasing and eyelashes kissing his cheeks. A smile so pretty, you have to fight your own.

His head is propped up on the table by an elbow that looks like it’s about to slip off the edge, so you sneak up behind him and place your hand against his arm to stop him from falling face-first into the wood.

He looks up at you, a little startled for a second, and you can see the moment it clicks in his head when he realises who he’s looking at. He smiles, all surprised but content and you melt. The last time you had seen him was only for the third time ever at another one of Sirius’s parties. You hate to admit that the only thing you look forward to now is when you receive an invite from your workmate and you have another excuse to see his lanky best friend.

“Y/N! When did you get here?” Sirius chants, flicking his last remaining coin at Frank. He shoots him a well-deserved glare.

“About thirty seconds ago,” you smile.

Sirius looks down at your socked feet and frowns, “You took your shoes off again. How many times do I have to tell you, you don’t have to do that.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re gross, Sirius.”

Remus looks down too, the top of his head pressing into your side, a crush of his curls tickling the bare skin of your arm and you almost shiver. “Cool socks.” Is the first thing he says to you. You giggle.

They’re a dark cornflower shade, moons scattered across the material at random. They crease when you wriggle your toes, “Thanks. Got them from mum for my birthday.”

“She has good taste.” He moves off of you, slouching down in his chair until his knees are pressing Lily’s legs.

His head lolls backwards, neck bared under the warm light. You think you feel dizzier than he does. Even when he squeezes his eyes shut.

“What have you done to him?” you laugh, hand flat against his forehead to brush away his loose hair. He keens, sighing deeply under a hiccup.

“He’s very awful at poker,” James laughs, flicking a pastille across the table. You look at his high pile, and then Sirius and Franks’ which are almost of equal height. Then you look in front of Remus, the table almost bare. You laugh.

“We like to play a little differently,” Franks states over the rim of his bottle.

“Basically, you take a shot every time you lose,” James says, sober as ever. You think maybe he hasn’t lost yet.

“And Remus has lost every hand,” Sirius adds to the chime of details.

“Have not!” Remus finally pipes up, finger pointed at James instead of Sirius, too distracted staring at the ceiling. “Frank lost the first.”

“Anyways, Moons. You just lost and I think you owe us another.”

Remus groans, but sits up to reach for the bottle of Sambuca sitting in the middle of the table. You gently swat his hand and push him back into his chair.

“I think you’ve had enough,” you say, turning to place the bottle on the kitchen bench, along with the empty bottles.

“C’mon, one more,” Remus giggles, making hands for the bottle in the air. A child, you think.

“Yeah, Y/N! One more!” Sirius agrees, smiling boyishly.

“You’ll make yourself sick,” you chide with a small frown. Remus slumps against you, much defeated. He might fall asleep on you if you stand there any longer. You poke his cheek where it’s pressed into your clothes.

“He already is sick.” Sirius is smug when he speaks and you fret about what else he’s about to say, “Sick in love.”

You laugh. Could’ve been worse. But it still has your heart skipping in your chest. You really do hope Remus shares the feelings you hold for him. But then again, Remus is drunk and Sirius, is well, he’s Sirius. Despite the name, he hardly ever is.

“Boo. Awful.” You frown in faux offence, ignoring him when he winks at you. Sickening, really.

You lean down so your mouth is in line with Remus’s ear, “You wanna go lay down?” You realise you’re in quite a predicament. Coming over to parties to see Sirius’s best friend. Looking after him when he’s drunk. You’d hoped he would do the same.

“Please, no sex in my house,” Sirius states, standing to grab another drink. James guffaws.

You roll your eyes, “He’s drunk.”

“So, you do want to have sex with him?” he adds.

You almost choke on your tongue, “No, it’s just. He- Stop it.” You have to stop yourself from saying something wrong. It wasn’t a lie, you did want to. But you wanted much more than that.

“Leave her alone,” Remus chides, leaning back off your stomach. “You’ll scare her off and I’ll never see her again,”

He was right, his friends did intimidate you. But you’d hoped it would take more than not yet warming up to them to get you to never see Remus again.

Remus stands and you’re surprised he doesn’t stumble when he takes your hand to lead you away from the table and out into the lounge room. You poke your tongue out over your shoulder when you hear James make some sort of crude comment to Frank. Lily smiles warmly at you as an apology.

He sits down with all the gracefulness of a baby elephant and you have to bite back a laugh. He looks up at you, pretty eyes all droopy and a lopsided smile, and you feel like you’ll never come back from these feelings ever.

Before you can overly admire him for too long, he’s patting the space next to him with a floppy hand. “C’mon.”

You oblige probably too willingly, flopping yourself down next to him with a small oomph, your thigh pressing into his. He shuffles down the lounge to rest his head atop your shoulder, neck craned a little to reach it. You can’t find it in yourself to mind. His face is warm and it presses into your collarbone that’s peeking from out the top of your shirt. His light stubble tickles your skin and it’s weirdly soothing. God, you know you’re in deep.

“You smell good.”

You breathe in subconsciously, “You do, too.”

Under the strong scent of stale beer and sambuca, you can think you can discern a hint of his cologne. Woody and something like cinnamon. Mixed in with the light scent of his laundry detergent, like fresh linen and lavender. He's dizzying.

“I smell like beer,” he groans, hand finding its way between both of your thighs, your skirt tangled in his fingers.

“You smell nice,” you laugh.

You watch the doorway where James gets up to turn the dial on the vinyl player. The current song now loud enough to be heard where you’re sitting.

Humming along, you say, “I love this song.”

Remus gawps, “Me too. S’my favourite, actually.”

Remus having the exact same favourite song as you makes your head spin. “No way.”

“Yes way.” he smiles. If he were soberer, you’d gush to him over this. It’d have to wait.

He shifts his head from your shoulder and startles for a moment, eyebrows raised, “I didn’t even ask if you wanted a drink.” You get whiplash from the change of subject.

You sigh, very amused at his intent to be nice to you, despite being half-cut, “I’m okay. I wasn’t really planning on drinking tonight.”

He frowns, wrinkles his nose and you want to kiss it. God. “Why did you come, then?” The fact he thinks you came to get drunk and not just to see him makes you want to laugh.

The smile you’re still trying to fight every time he speaks makes your cheeks ache, “To see Sirius.”

He frowns even more and you think he wants to shift away from you. He roughly scratches at his face and you almost regret messing with him.

“Sirius?” He hiccups.

“I’m kidding.” You poke his bicep, “I came to see you.”

There’s a silence and then Remus is breaking out into one of the biggest grins you’d ever seen. You’d have the decency in you to blame it on being drunk. Nothing else.

“Me?” He hiccups, again. You place your hand atop his thigh and trace the thick seam of his pants.

“Yes, you.”

His smile dials back but doesn’t fade and his face relaxes. He leans down to place his head back against your shoulder, cheek all smooshed.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Thank you.” he hums, hooking his elbow behind yours, completely squished against you. He thinks you must be cold in a skirt and a small T-shirt. “I like it when you’re here. You make it bearable.”

You want to accept his compliment, but when he hiccups for the third time, you remember he’s drunk. “That’s a bit mean, Remus. Will I tell your friends you can’t bear them?”

Remus stiffens and you stop rubbing his leg. Drunk Remus is very gullible. Sweet, but gullible all the same.

“Stop it. You know what I mean.” He pushes further into your shoulder and you feel yourself dip down against him, head almost falling against his. You wouldn’t mind if it did, but it wouldn’t be very comfortable, you assume.

“I don’t think I do,” you tease and Remus pinches your side, which results in a stifled yelp.

“Don’t be cruel.” He strains.

“I would never.”

When you shiver in your spot, Remus wonders what your answer would be if he offered you his jacket. He thinks he should test his theory.

“Are you cold?” he asks but doesn’t move his head from your shoulder.

“A little,” you yawn. Which then causes Remus to yawn. You laugh animatedly.

“Do you,” Remus blinks slowly, eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he attempts to keep his eyes open. “do you want my jacket?”

You’re glad Remus’ head is still propped on your shoulder lest he sees the blush creeping across your cheeks. Drunk Remus is gullible. But drunk Remus is still just as kind as he is when he’s sober.

“Then you’ll be cold,” you reply, giving his thigh a squeeze. You crane your neck to look at him. He looks tired.

“Better me than you.” He moves to take it off and before he can even get one arm out, you sit forward and place your hands on his chest. Fingers twisted in his cotton shirt, your turned knee pressing into his.

“Remus, I’m okay.” You give him your most reassuring smile. Being cold is no one’s fault but your own. You don’t want to be an annoyance.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Remus sits back, albeit begrudgingly, hands wrapped around the zipper of his jacket. The further he pushes back into the lounge, the more he looks like he’s about to fall asleep.

“Remus?” you murmur. Voice quiet under the din of the party. Sirius is a loud drunk, his laughter roaring at something stupid James is doing.

His head begins to dip into the edge of the cushion, headed for the arm of the chair. If he kept this up, he’d have a crick in his neck in no time.

He hums and you pat his cheek to encourage him to sit up. It’s bemusing how quickly he can drift off. You’re very envious. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.

“What’s up?” he murmurs in return, peeking from one eye, the other scrunched up. He’s adorable and you’re in too deep.

“You seem tired.” You poke his face this time and he beams, all warm and dozey under the mellow light of Sirius’s living room. A line of curls falling into his eyes and the apples of his cheeks a tinge of peach.

He hums again, much thicker than last. “M’not.”

You hold out your hand, all five fingers spread. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

He struggles, but pulls his hand from his lap and holds it up to yours, tangling your fingers. Palm flush against yours and much warmer in comparison. “Feels like five.” He pulls your entwined hands back down and you laugh.

You try not to shy from his actions, pretending like it doesn’t make your heart skip, and then almost stop completely when his thumb rubs circles into the top of your hand. You can feel the warmth seeping from his into your own and your fingertips tingle.

“Do you want to go home?” You twist so you’re completely on the edge of the lounge, hand still wrapped in his. You stop, “Or are you staying here tonight?”

He brings his arm up - with yours still tangled - and rubs his face with the back of his hand. Dragging you up and down. You giggle at his tired actions before pouting.

“I think.'' You can tell he’s trying to stay alert enough to hold a conversation with you.

When he wakes up in the morning he won’t remember being so tired here and will think you both had the best conversation. You’ll be okay with this. “I think Sirius was supposed to take me home, but he’s too drunk now.”

“You’ll sleep on the couch?” You frown and he blinks.

“I think I might have to.” He throws his head back and sighs. Strained and raspy.

You look at the size of Sirius’s two-seater and then Remus’s stupidly long legs. It wouldn’t work, and he’d end up with either a sore back or a worse-off neck than whatever it was he was doing right now. You don’t even really think before you say, “I can walk you home.”

Remus looks a little more alert, “You can’t sleep on this.” You prod the squeaky leather and it bounces back with absolutely no recoil. You’ll be sure to scold Sirius next time for having a horrendous couch, though enough money to buy everyone in the room ten of them. You know he won’t appreciate the exaggeration. But it’s for the sake of his friends’ backs.

“You don’t have to do that.” He sits up properly now and tries to situate himself to look convincingly comfortable. “I’ll make do.”

“It’s no big deal.” You shrug. “I’m walking home anyways.”

Now he’s sitting forward, his knees pushing into your leg and you almost stumble off the seat, grabbing his arm for purchase. “You just got here.” He almost frets and then coughs to hide his worry. He’s not very good at achieving a smooth, cool demeanour when half-cut. Not that he ever achieves it sober, he thinks.

“No, but I think you need to go home and sleep.” You look out into the kitchen that’s now surprisingly quieter. Lily looks like she’s about to fall asleep, leaning on James’s shoulder, who’s trying to play a horrible game of go fish with Sirius and Frank. Absolute party animals.

“I live too far away, anyways,” he says, leaning down to tie his shoelaces. “You’ll have to walk me home and then walk back, you’ll be walking for at least an hour and a half.” Why Remus is so afraid to suggest you can stay the night at his, he doesn’t know.

You squeeze his shoulder as he struggles to loop his lace through his fingers. He decides to go for the simpler, bunny-ear option. “That’s okay. You can stay at mine. I only live ten minutes away.”

When Remus sits back up after tying his laces too tight, his face is pink.

Remus Lupin has never been one for sitting comfortably, ever. With long, lanky limbs, he always has his legs sprawled out and his arms thrown over something. Anything he can take up comfortably, with enough space to spread, he’ll sit willingly.

On one hand, he’s thankful you convinced him not to sleep on Sirius’s couch. He didn’t need a repeat of New Year’s. Though, on the other hand, he could’ve made do.

Nothing was like sitting in your bedroom. He wouldn’t say he was uncomfortable, though deep down he was a little, a pit of anxiety creeping up his chest. He felt like he had little room to move - despite you owning a double bed - because he didn’t want to look stupid. He could take up space and not notice it.

Remus has trouble not taking in every detail he can in your room. Like your little trinket dishes filled with miscellaneous items, signet rings and seashells. The stuffed rhino toy in the middle of your pillows that you had told him - shyly at that - was named Clarence. Not before giggling at the poster of Twilight that you swore had been there since you were young. Your current read splayed open on the end of your bed, along with the stack of records in a blue milk crate in the corner, were things he promised himself he would ask you about when he wasn’t half tipsy and could hold a proper conversation.

In his admiration, one that was making his anxiety spread into warmth that seemed to be seeping from his bones. He’s too busy pretending like he isn’t taking in every small detail one shouldn’t when they’ve only known someone for only a month, and doesn’t notice that you’ve changed.

He looks over at you, in a pair of shorts littered with tiny daisies and a shirt that almost eats said shorts. Your hair pulled back and your face still sort of wet from where you obviously washed off the day's grime, causing the hairs around your face to curl. He doesn’t know if it’s the fading alcohol that’s causing him to hiccup even more, or if it’s seeing you all fresh and content from being at home that has his breath catching.

Remus Lupin is still a little drunk but he is also quite clearly growing to like you even more. That doesn’t change. He thinks he's done everything backwards. Meeting you, then seeing you now but too inebriated to say something redeeming, and then seeing you in the comfort of your own home before he even gets to ask you on a date. He also thinks he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Remus?” Your voice is as calm as you look when you speak and he melts.

“Hm?” He blinks, shaking his head.

“You okay?” Warm light washes over you and paints you amber as you patter across the room, the moon socks that are still on your feet pressing into the white fabric of your rug. “You’re not feeling sick?” He thinks he should blame his daze on a fake sickness, but he doesn’t want you to worry even more, so he decides against it.

When you press the back of your hand to his cheek, that’s only warm because he’s a little overwhelmed, not because he’s feeling poorly, he can’t find it in himself to hold your gaze. “I’m okay.”

“I was saying I don’t think I have any clothes for you to change into.” You remind him after it felt like you were talking to a brick wall a minute earlier.

Remus pushes his hands into the rough material of his black jeans. He doesn’t see himself sleeping in anything else. “That’s okay.”

“You’re not going to sleep in those are you?”

What else would he sleep in if you have no other clothes? “Uh.”

“You wear boxers?” you grin.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He wishes he was still a little drunker so he could blame his bumbling words on the effects of downing half a bottle of sambuca. Now he’s realising that’s just how he sounds when he’s overwhelmed by you.

“Sleep in those. I don’t mind.”

Your confidence, and your confidence only, is how he ends up pantless and under the covers of your bed. He doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. You have a lovely way of making him feel at ease. He thinks that’s why he likes you so much.

You smell different than earlier in the night when your shirt tickles his arm. Like fresh face wash and night creams, and maybe even roses. He’d hate to think of what he smelt like in comparison to you. Probably still like beer, and maybe like sweat. He should’ve asked if he could’ve showered. That might’ve been too much, he’s definitely overthinking.

“You’re very quiet,” you say into the dimness of your room. He’s lucky your bedside lamp is so muted, lest you see the goosebumps raised over his skin and how his cheeks haven’t returned to their normal colour since he crossed the threshold of your room.

“M’thinking,” he returns, just as quiet. It feels wrong to disturb the calmness blanketing the room.

“I can tell.” He can hear you grin, “What about?”

He swallows and he wouldn’t be surprised if you heard it, “You.”

You huff a small laugh and push down into the pillow behind you, “Me?” Your voice is a little strained, and not louder than before. Maybe even quieter.

“Yeah. Thinking about the next time I’ll get to see you.”

“You haven’t even left yet and you’re thinking ahead to the next time we’ll see each other,” you tease, getting comfortable underneath your plush quilt and sheets. Probably too much for a summer night but there’s still a chill in the air, flowing through your open window.

“I’m just hoping I won’t be so drunk,” he admits, hating how he still actually does sound drunk.

“Hopefully,” you smile, “But that’s okay, we can blame it on James.”

“If only I wasn’t so shit at poker,” he laughs in a strained and animated voice, trying to hold back a yawn.

He finally gets comfortable, hands fisting the sheets around his body and head balancing restfully against the plush of your ivory pillows.

You can see his eyes flutter in an attempt to stay awake. You think it’s endearing but you also think he needs to sleep. “Remus,” you say, firm but caring at once.

“Hmm?” he mumbles, eyebrows pinched.

“You should sleep.” You push itchy locks away from his forehead and he sighs at the caring touch of your fingers.

“Don’t wanna.” He scrunches his nose, “I think I’m finally sobering up. Wanna talk t’you.”

You smile at his absolute urgency and think he’s adorable. Truly. “Please, sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“You’ll be here?” This, you actually laugh at.

“Of course, Remus. You’re in my room.”

He closes his eyes, eyelashes kissing the freckles of his cheeks and his tired, darkened skin, “M’kay.”

When you wake up in the morning, almost midday, Remus plagued by the effects of alcohol, you too content to wake whilst being next to him, you both have separate texts from Sirius.

Your own chat log reads, aren’t U glad you came out? You don’t reply, not wanting to encourage him in any way.

Remus’s phone, on the other hand, reads,

uncle pads has a ring to it don’t you think? xxxx

He does in fact reply, too used to Sirius being a twat.

Nothing happened. Ur disgusting and I hate you.

what do U mean nothing happened?

I was drunk. She helped me basically stumble home.

U both stumbled. in her sheets.

Fuck off. Idiot.

Neither of you mention any of Sirius’s messages to each other the entire morning. Too busy enjoying each other's company.

The week spent after Remus had drunkenly stayed the night, you could pleasantly, though maybe even with a smidge of embarrassment, admit that he was all you thought about since.

It was a new feeling. You’d never felt it before. The endearment, but also the nerves, of realising you actually like someone. Some days it made your cheeks ache from smiling, and filled your chest with warmth. On other days, the warmth cracked your chest open, an aching chasm pleading to be filled and a head clouded with apprehension.

You were eager and scared all at once. But you were happy either way because Remus made you feel things. Good things.

You had spent the morning, forcing him to eat something, telling him it would make his hangover feel much better. He’d argued for no longer than two minutes before agreeing. Saying, who am I to argue with a girl like you?

“Like me?” you’d replied, mouth full of half-eaten pancake, pushing his own plate across the marble of your kitchen bar.

“Smart,” he smiled, picking at a blueberry, “Pretty.”

And after it was your turn to babble like a fool, he’d eased you open. Asked you about the record collection in your room (he was proud of himself for remembering). You’d rambled off your favourite artists, a lot similar, and he knew he’d be an idiot if he didn’t give you his number before he left.

And he did. Wrote his number on your hand as you stood at your doorway and he thanked you for breakfast. And for walking him home, drunk. You kissed his cheek and watched him press his fingers into his skin until he rounded the corner.

You wrote the number down on a piece of paper, magnetising it to your fridge as soon as you shut the door. Though your hands were sweaty - obviously because you were around Remus - and the last number had smudged. Was it a 3? Or an 8? Or a weird looking 5? You couldn’t tell and told yourself that was a problem you could deal with later.

It was later. A whole week later and you still hadn’t called him. If it was due to your nerves or the fact you had a missing number, that was your business only. You left the last space blank, the empty spot a blinding reminder of your stupidity. You’d just have to try every number until you found Remus. It would take no more than ten attempts.

Numbers zero through four were all wrong numbers. You were only met with a piercing tone before the line went dead. When you got to five, you were met with, what sounded like, a grumpy old lady. You tried to hang up straight away, well aware it wasn’t him, but she screeched and persisted that if she had a prank call one more time, she would phone the police!

Turns out, it was a 6 after all. The lovely tone of Remus’s voice rings down the line and you sigh in relief.

“It’s you.” Your voice is airy and Remus isn't sure he knows who it is.

There are only a handful of people who have his number. His friends, most of them called and checked in regularly, except Mary, who's always one to stop by instead. His parents and his neighbour had it too. But he seriously doubted the latter, unless his flat had been ransacked.

And then he remembers he'd given it to you and he laughs. All these thoughts happen within the span of two seconds. He hopes it's you, he's been anticipating a call all week. He was beginning to maybe think you didn’t actually want to hear from him. That he'd embarrassed himself in his drunken stupor. But then he remembered how nice you were to him.

You’ll make yourself sick.

“It is?” he laughs, still hoping it is in fact you. The image of his flat turned upside down, the spot on his mantle where his small TV is, now empty, flashes across his mind.

“Remus. It’s me!” you chirp and he pushes his phone closer to his ear as if it’ll make him hear your pretty voice even clearer.

”Me? I don’t think I know any me’s” he teases, fighting back an eager smile. Teasing you could be fun. Could become a constant. He’s imagining the warmth of your cheeks, and hopefully a small smile.

“Y/N,” you correct and he can almost hear the roll of your eyes.

“Oh. I know an Y/N,” he smiles, leaning against the lip of his kitchen bench. “She’s very pretty,” he pauses, wanting to drag it out, “and she’s super-”

“Remus,” you plead. Half wanting him to continue, half wanting him to stop to save your phone splitting in half where you’re holding it too hard. “Stop.”

Hearing your smile isn’t enough for him, “Super cool. Actually probably way too cool for me and…”

Remus sighs, very happy with himself.

“You done?” you ask.

“Maybe.”

“You’re a nuisance.”

Remus decides to not argue, you’re half right anyways. “I’m sorry. What’s up?”

You pause, thinking. You’ve forgotten why you called him for a moment. Too happy with just listening to him talk. You think you could do it all day if he let you. “I was wondering if you were coming out tonight? Drinks?” You feel silly asking now. It was drinks for James, he’d gotten a promotion, but of course, Remus is coming, they're best friends.

“Are you?”

You grin, “Yes. Yeah, I am.”

“Great. Me too.”

The excitement you feel when you know you’ll be seeing him again is palpable. Giddiness mixed with a number of nerves is always there whenever you think of him. He makes you feel like a schoolgirl again and you know he’ll be the cause of your undoing.

“Great.”

A face-splitting smile erupts across Remus’s features. If only you could see each other.

The amount of time you spend getting ready in the afternoon for James’s get-together is silly. After what's an almost stupid amount of time rustling through your closet to find something, the final thing you settle on you hope isn’t stupid. A red skirt that ends mid-thigh, a white tee and a leather jacket. Boots that you hope actually do your legs justice, not just how they look in the mirror.

You know exactly why you're making such a fuss with your appearance. Spending an extra amount of time making sure loose hairs are sprayed down and a fresh coat of nail polish that's applied probably a little too late before you make your way out your front door.

You think that maybe if you didn’t know if Remus was attending or not it'd be a lot easier on you. Or maybe worse. God, you're a mess. You just really want to make him like you.

Arriving at the pub a little early is probably a bad idea in the long run. You greet James and Lily with equal delight. You hadn’t seen them since his shindig at least two weeks ago. Sirius, pint in hand, greets you loud enough to let the entire pub know of your arrival. Frank and Alice are absent. In-laws. You feel as though you had finally found the perfect group of friends.

James had told you that Remus was probably going to be late.

Which gives you too much time to down an inappropriate number of vodka-cranberries, much to Sirius’s delight. Pressed into a corner booth, settled next to James and Sirius who have now also transitioned to fruity drinks.

When Remus finally arrives, the sun now set, you're at least five cocktails deep. The pub is a little loud now, though you’d never struggle to hear any of your rambunctious friends. They're probably half the noise. You're a giggling mess, warm from the effects of alcohol. You feel ridiculously happy like you expected to, but you haven’t even seen Remus yet.

When you sip back the last dregs of your drink, the rim pressed into your nose, determined not to waste a single drop, your eyes finally settle on Remus who's selfishly been admiring you from afar. Your eyes light up like a delighted puppy and he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from smiling like an idiot.

He walks to the edge of the table, wet and sticky wood pressing into his jeans and he grimaces. “Finally he arrives,” James cheers, mojito raised in the air.

“Moony! Looking as ravishing as ever, my boy!” Sirius cheers with equal flare.

Remus ignores both of them with a tiny smile, too used to their words it’s like second nature to ignore them. “Sweetheart,” he smiles at you and you light up even more.

“Remus! You’re here.”

Sirius gets up and slides along the wall to make room for Remus next to you, “He looks ravishing, wouldn’t you say, Y/N? Good enough to eat,” he repeats

“I am hungry,” you admit with a giggle as Remus settles down next to you, only enough room for a sheet of paper to fit between your thighs.

“Having a good time, lovely?” Remus gestures to the empty glasses taking up the table in front of you. Your lips are stained red and he has to lick his own.

“Amazing!” You lean into his side and your hair tickles his neck. Your warmth seeps through Remus’s skin and he doesn’t have a single problem with how close the two of you are sitting. He’d be kidding himself if he said he did.

“I’m glad,” he says, hands settling atop the table.

“Are you?” You blink, eyes bright and welcoming. He has to avert his attention to your nose instead. Feeling as if you’d swallow him whole.

“I am now,” he grins.

Distracted, the half-empty glass in your hands spills when you twist its stem a little too quickly. A puddle of cosmo seeps into the half-polished tabletop and you cringe.

“Oops.” Quick to act, despite how sapped you feel from the cocktails, you grab a too-big handful of napkins from the dispenser in front of you.

With little to no flare, you push the entire pile of paper into the split drink and probably make it worse. The napkins almost turn to pink sludge and you only spread the drink further. A cold, sticky mess.

Remus laughs and grabs your wrists, pulling them up from the mess, “What have you done, hmm?” He puts your hands in your lap and you slouch, defeated.

“Accident,” you huff. You watch Remus’s hands swipe across the table, much better at cleaning up your mess. Like it wasn’t even there in the first place.

Upset that your drink is now empty, when Sirius isn’t looking, too distracted talking quidditch with James, you reach forward and snatch his mojito. Cheering internally, too happy with yourself, you sip slowly.

“He won’t be too happy with that,” Remus laughs, pushing the serviettes to the side.

You shrug, pushing further into the leather of the booth seat, “Accident.” you repeat.

Remus chuckles. You scull back the last of Sirius’s drink and Remus braces his hand on the skin between your shoulder blades, with a gentle “Take it easy,”

You turn to him and wipe the line of drink from your chin with the back of your hand. Smiling before gently slamming the now-empty glass back to the table, a ring of condensation splashes across your palm.

You wipe it across Remus’s leg unthinkingly and he wrinkles his nose. A dark stripe up his thigh. He takes your hand by the wrist again and grabs another napkin. Dabbing your palm gently and you act unaffected by his attentions when you trace the water on the table with your free hand.

“Am I the one who’s going to be doing the babysitting, tonight?” Remus counts the glasses that hadn’t been collected yet. Five. Six, now counting the one you stole.

You nod, gleefully.

“Saves me, then.” Lily takes another swig from her Pimm's, very happy. James presses into her side and throws his head back.

“Merlin, I’m tired.” he huffs.

“Boo. No fun,” you pout, eyeing only his third drink that he hadn’t touched in way too long, “You drink too slowly, that’s your problem.”

He snorts, “I don’t have the drinking problems, lovely.”

You gasp, hand to your chest, sticky fingers pressing into your skin, “Just because I’m having fun!”

You notice the beginnings of a frown across Sirius’s face, clocking the glass in front of you, green to your past pink drinks, “You little sneak.”

You pout, “Okay, I’m sorry, let me get the next round.” You move to stand and when you’re upright, the room spins. You grab Remus’s shoulder for purchase and he grabs your forearm. His grip is grounding, flesh between his slender fingers.

“Okay, let me get the drinks,” he says, standing. The love-hate relationship you have with his height hurts sometimes.

“No, let me.” You rummage through the purse over your shoulder, through sickles and spare tampons, and pull out a measly fiver. You hold it up to him with a frown, paper crumpled in your hand.

Remus chuckles and places his hands on your shoulders, “Sit.”

You do what he says and ignore the warmth in the pit of your belly.

As Remus stands at the bar to wait for the drinks, he turns to watch you with a content smile on his face and a warmth spreading up his chest until it begs to swatch his cheeks. He watches as you cover your face with your hands, giggling madly at something James is telling you.

He thinks his heart is messing with him when it skips in his chest. When you throw your head back, neck bared and your eyes squinted, your shoulders raise like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard (it could be but he doubts it), he thinks his heart has an actual fault. Almost halting completely when your eyes meet his and he thinks he’s been caught, but you smile contently and he has to look away before it jumps out his throat.

He knows he’s truly done for.

He returns with a tray of drinks, mojito’s for his friends and a pint for himself, a packet of crisps pinched between his teeth. If he doesn’t choose to drink cocktails with everyone else because he wants to be sober to keep his eye on you, that’s completely his business.

He places the drinks down, a hum of thank yous and cheers follow, he opens his mouth to let the crisps fall into your lap. You startle and look up at him, bemused.

“You said you were hungry.” He smiles.

You beam, hiccuping what he thinks is thanks.

“Where’s my fuckin food?” Sirius calls, voice very clear above the din of the pub. He throws a cube of ice at Remus and misses.

“Up your ass.”

Sirius goes to reach for a crisp and you clutch the foil bag close to your chest. He doesn’t try again, thinking you might bite him. “Fuck, I need a cig.”

He stands and stops Remus from sitting as he climbs over you. Squeezing past with almost zero care. You laugh, he seems hangry.

When he almost steps on your toe, “Look out, you prat.” Remus scolds.

“C’mon. Outside.” Sirius drags him away before he can even protest.

“You gonna ask her out, or what?” Sirus leans against the wall of the smoking area and flicks his ash.

Remus groans, “Don’t say it like it's easy or some shit.”

“Is it not?” Sirius laughs like it’s obvious. Remus envies his natural charm some days. He wished it came easy to him.

“No. She doesn’t like me like that.” Remus toes the gravel beneath his boot with a crunch. Watches as it skips across the ground and to the firepit. A distraction from the scolding that he’s expecting he’s about to get from Sirius.

Sirius coughs on a thick exhale of smoke, pushes himself off the wall. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

“What? No.” In some delusional, fucked up way, no, Remus is fucking with Sirius. Not since 7th year, anyways.

“She's mad about you,” Sirius laughs around the filter of his cigarette, “It’s sickening really. I mean she’s gotta be half dumb or something.” After another exhale he flicks more ash to the ground.

“Fuck up.”

“Whatever.”

There’s a beat before Remus says, “She doesn’t feel that way about me.” His head rests against the red brick behind him and wishes it would swallow him up. He wishes this was easier.

“What, you think she wears her best red skirt for people she doesn’t love?”

He lifts his head and glares at Sirius, “You really are a fucking twat, you know?” He steals the cigarette from between Sirius’s fingers and ignores his grunt as he inhales deeply. As deep as he can until Sirius swats his hand.

“I’m fucking kidding.” He takes it back, grimacing at the butt of what’s left.

“Still a twat,” Remus grunts.

Sirius flicks the orange filter to the ground and squashes it under his leather boot. “Seriously, Moons. Make a move already, it’s starting to get sad.”

He sighs, and Sirius almost wants to slap some sense into him. He doesn’t, remembering how he’d reacted last time he did. “I can’t. I’m not ruining anything.”

He decides to pat his shoulder instead, a gentler approach, “You’re a miserable sap.” He squeezes his sad friend, “She likes you, a lot, and she’s really good for you, y’know?”

“She is, isn’t she?” Remus sighs, lovelorn and dizzy, “Fuck, she’s so amazing. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. Have you seen her when she laughs? Fuck sakes.” He has to stop himself before he rants too much.

The both of them start to make their way back into the pub. “Alright, put your fucking cock away.”

Remus opens the door to the bar, “Get inside,” he laughs.

“If you don’t make a move soon, fuck I might.” Remus’s face goes slack and he pushes his dickhead of a friend towards their table with a little too much force. He stumbles with a hearty chuckle.

Left alone in the middle of the bar, a little incensed, he turns to look around and spots what looks like your aforementioned red skirt, standing in front of the claw machine.

Bemused, but more intrigued, he beelines for you with slow strides. When he stands behind you he places his hand to your shoulder. You turn around and smile warmly. You’re standing, more like swaying, with both hands inside your purse.

“What are you doing, dove?” he asks and squeezes your shoulder. You push back into him, probably for the stability you lack. He braces you with his thigh behind yours.

“You smell like a chimney.” You wrinkle your nose and he laughs. It reverberates through your chest and you have to blink away the way it makes you feel. Sleepy.

“Sirius is a horrible influence,” he says with an equally wrinkled nose.

“I’m looking for a coin,” you answer his question, looking back down into your purse. “Want to win you something.” Remus’s heart swells tenfold.

Before he can pull one from his pocket as an offering, you bend over and tip your entire purse to the paisley carpet, contents spilling everywhere. Wizard money, bright pink tampons, chapsticks and gum wrappers sit in a pile and Remus steps back with a disgruntled sigh.

You turn and crouch down to sort through everything, Remus looks down and gawps for a second. Half amused, half displeased. He bends down with you and helps as well.

“Do you think it'll take sickles?” you question, moving bandaids to the side. It’s looking like a lost cause.

Remus shakes his head with a laugh, “I don’t think so, honey.”

You frown.

“Here,” He handles a few items and places them in your purse, “I’ll help you clean this up and I’ll win you something, hm?” Remus thinks you’re a bit like Mary Poppins with how much stuff you have. He’d say this to you because you probably would understand the muggle reference, but you seem too upset over your lack of coins.

“Was gonna win you some chocolate,” you laugh, picking up more stuff.

The last few items fall back in with little organisation and he stands. You take his outstretched hands and let him gently tug you back up with a ruffle of your hair.

He pulls a coin from his pocket and slots it into the machine. You stand around to the side with your hands pressed to the glass like a little kid. The flow of colours washes you fluorescent as you point to a cherry ripe in a perfect spot.

He grips the joystick and moves it to where he thinks it hovers right above it.

“More to the left,” you say with your finger smooshed against the machine.

“You’re drunk,” he says before he pushes the red button on top of the stick, not moving it to where you’d said.

You laugh as it doesn’t even graze the chocolate. Claw coming back up with nothing. “Whatever.” He has two more chances at grabbing it and he’s determined.

The second time he does listen to you but still misses by the width of a hair. You both hold your breath as the claw gets lowered for the final time. You bend over to get a better view and watch as it gets picked up, not cheering until it gets dropped in the chute.

You clap as Remus cheers, taking the chocolate thankfully, opening it immediately with a crinkle of red foil. “Thank you, Remus.”

“Anytime.”

You break the chocolate in half and offer him the bigger portion. You both stand there, chewing on cherry and coconut and chocolate. You look at your sticky fingers and the worst of the after-effects of six cocktails suddenly hits you in a wave of nausea. Not enough to make you want to throw up, but enough for you to groan and grab your stomach.

“I think I should go home,” you whine, placing your half of the chocolate back into the wrapper and into your purse, probably just to melt and make a mess. A later problem, you think.

“Feeling okay?” he asks, turning to check you over. Etebrows pinched in concern already.

“I think I had too many cocktails,” you laugh, weakly at that.

“How are you getting home?” he asks.

You laugh, having flashbacks to your last encounter. “That’s my line.”

“It’s a good one.”

“I don’t know how I’m getting home,” you say.

“I’ll call you a taxi.”

You sigh, “That’d be lovely.”

After saying goodbye to the rest of the group, after they’d moaned about your fifteen-minute disappearance with Remus, Thought you’d gotten stuck in the cubicle! James had laughed. Drunkenly, you’d missed the joke. Remus had smacked him up the back of the head. But now, the both of you were making your way to the front entrance.

Remus has to drag you out the door, holding you upright as you stammer and trip on things that aren't there.

“Be careful,” he tuts, holding you closer under his arm.

“There was a frog!” you explain, very much exasperated.

“No there wasn’t,” he laughs.

“Was so!” you strain, fisting his shirt behind his back, sure to stretch the cotton.

“You just want me to hold you tighter.” He’s smug when he says it and can’t really help it. He has Sirius’s words ringing in the back of his head.

You stop at the gutter and kick a stone with your boot, “Maybe.”

Your knees ache, wanting nothing more than to crouch down to the ground. You think it would probably be a bad idea. Though with sore knees and a spinning head, bad ideas turned to the best.

You pull yourself from Remus' hold and bend your legs to crouch in the gutter. Remus’s eyes blow wide and he looks down at you. Not again, he thinks.

Before he can ask what you’re doing, thinking you've passed out, you look up, “Head rush,” you giggle with a huff of air. He sits down next to you, knees almost pressed into his chin.

Remus tugs your knee so you turn towards him, legs pressed together. He keeps his large palm over your thigh because being crouched in a gutter leaves little to the imagination to the drunks walking past and he’s not going to ask you to get up if you’re dizzy.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

You rest your head on his shoulder much like he had the last time you saw him. He hopes he had more care than you do with your cheek cruelly smooshed into his skin. “I’m just a little drunk.”

Lucky for Remus, before he thinks you’re about to fall asleep on his shoulder, your taxi is pulling up. He helps you stand, opens the back door and ushers you in.

Listening to your murmur of thanks Remus before he clicks you in.

“What’s your address, dove? So I can tell the driver.” You give him your address and he passes it off.

Before he can close the door for you, you grab his wrist.

“When can I see you next?” you ask brightly. Hopefully.

“Call me when you’re not hungover,” he laughs, brushing his fingers across your arm. Your grip hardens.

“You’ll answer?” He almost laughs again at how drunk you sound. Of course, he’ll answer.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

You lean across your seat, seatbelt pulling taut as you press a kiss to his cheek. Warm and buttery-soft just like last time, but maybe even worse now that his feelings for you are stronger. It burns.

“Thank you, Remus.”

“That’s okay, lovely.”

You in fact did call Remus, a couple of days after your night out. Expected, you were hungover so you waited a day after to talk.

Remus hadn’t really been expecting you to call him, despite how eager you seemed, he had talked himself out of believing you had any feelings for him. Like he’d imagined it or something.

So, when his phone rings, he’s not expecting it to be you at all. He answers with a sigh, thinking it’s James or Sirius.

“What do you want?” His voice is void of any excitement or joy you’d been selfishly expecting. You were also expecting a more welcoming greeting.

“Remus?” you say, and his hand stills in his cupboard where he’s distractedly putting clean dishes away.

He shuts the cupboard’s door a little too abruptly and cringes, clears his throat so he can speak, “Y/N! Shit, sorry. Hey.” He cringes even more at his stupidity.

“Expecting someone else?” you laugh.

He nods like you can see him, “Yeah, sorry.” He swallows and tries to fix himself, “How are you?”

“I’m good,” you say with a little sigh, “Really, really good.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah, how are you?” you question.

Remus’s voice goes quieter, “Amazing.” Then there’s a small beat like you’re both thinking, “So, what’s up? Everything okay?”

In his mind, his stupid, paranoid mind, there’s a possibility that all you’ve done is pocket-dialled him. Or, accidentally pressed his name in your contacts, maybe mistaken the name Moony for Mum.

Is his name Moony in your phone? Or is it just Sirius’s friend? God, he wants his thoughts to shut up.

“I wanted to ask you something!” When it sounds like you actually want to talk to him, what almost feels like relief washes over him. Paints him bright as he settles on his sofa, beaming like a schoolboy when he says,

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Your excitement is dizzying. “Are you free this weekend?”

He has to swallow before he speaks, eagerness bleeds through his skin. His foot taps and he picks at a loose thread on his battered shirt. “Yeah, I am.”

You chirp a happy noise, “Awesome! Cool. Um, there’s that gig on at The Red Lion if you wanted to come?”

Remus doesn’t see himself as a cool person and it definitely doesn’t show when he says, “Yeah! I’d love to.” in a tone pitched higher than normal.

“Great. I think Sirius is coming too, I told him about it the other day and said he should invite the others. I wasn’t sure if he had asked you yet.”

Oh.

Remus feels like the biggest idiot ever. You weren’t asking him out, why would you?

He leans down between his legs until all the air is forced from his lungs, he covers the receiver with his hand and groans, long and suffering in self-pity.

Is coughing to clear your throat and hide your disappointment a good thing? Because his voice is a little squeaky when he replies. When he sits back up his head spins. “Sounds great.”

He hears some shuffling on the end of your line before you say, “Amazing. I’ll see you then. Sorry, gotta go. Bye Remus!”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

Remus has about thirty seconds of wallowing in self-pity before his phone is ringing again. He wants to shove it in between his sofa cushions and forget about everything. But he sees Sirius' name flash up on the screen so he answers.

“Moony!” Sirius’s voice pierces the phone line and Remus cringes. “Remus, my good friend.”

“Did you just get lucky or something?” Remus gruffs.

“Huh?”

“You’re too happy. Calm it down.”

Sirius groans, “You’re so content with being miserable, Remus. Just because you can’t get your dick wet.”

Remus wished his stupid friend could see the displeasure on his face, “What do you want?”

“You’re free this weekend, aren’t you?” He questions and Remus hums a yes, expecting to hear the exact same question you had just asked him only three minutes ago.

“Well, you, me, the gang, and a few pints at The Red Lion. Sounds like a plan?” Remus detests his friend's happiness. Or envies it. He feels miserable and doesn’t think Sirius is deserving of his lack of enthusiasm just because you didn’t ask him out.

“Yeah, Y/N already asked me,” he replies.

“Well, don’t get too excited.” Sirius huffs a laugh.

“No, sorry. It’s just I thought she- never mind. Sounds good.”

“Awesome. I’ll send you the deets.”

Remus almost laughs, “The deets? Wait until I tell Marls you talk like that.”

“Shut up.”

“Bye, Sirius.”

Sirius hangs up before he can.

Remus spots you before you do, again. Watches where you lean against the bar on your tip-toes, talking to the bartender about something. He’s making you laugh and he feels the stupid need that it should be him instead.

He does what he always does; walks up behind you and presses his shoulder into your back. You chirp and turn around. Then, your eyes do that thing that they always do that makes him bite the inside of his cheek. They squint, confused, and then light up when you realise who you’re looking at. Remus could swear that they sparkle, but that’s just something he imagines in his lovesick head.

“Remus!” You smile, mouth upturning until the apples of your cheeks swell. You wrap your fingers around his bicep and pull him into your side. He lets you, willingly.

“Y/N,” he says probably a little too quietly for the setting. The pub is starting to fill quickly while the band does sound check, the general hubbub of the patrons mixes in with the strumming of guitars and the feedback from the mics.

“You’re all wet,” you giggle, pressing your fingers into the underside of his arm.

“Yeah, it’s starting to rain out there,” he says.

“You walked?” You frown, pulling your hands from his arm. He can still feel where your fingers were wrapped. A burn against his wet skin.

“From the bus stop.”

“You know there’s this thing wizards can do, I’m not sure if you heard of it. It’s called disapparition,” you quirk, mouth upturning into a teasing smile.

Amused, Remus says, “I don’t usually like muggles to watch someone appear out of thin air.”

You reach forward to grab some napkins from the dispenser on the bar, probably too many. “I would’ve picked you up,” you say matter-of-factly.

He doesn’t reply, just stops still when you reach up to brush away the damp hair from his eyes. There’s water bunching in his hair and falling in tiny beads down his face, over his top lip. You laugh when he licks it away before you dab across his forehead and then his cheeks.

“I missed you,” you say, bunching the paper into a ball.

Remus smiles, too hard he thinks. “You saw me last weekend.”

You think he might be teasing you, though you’re not sure. You feel like you’ve overstepped. Demure, your eyes widen at your error. “Sorry,” you laugh, airy and quiet.

Remus pokes you in your side, “I missed you too,” he laughs.

You nod your head and bite your lip. You feel eased. But embarrassed in the first place. Scrunching the ball of damp napkins in your hands until it pinches. Still, you’re overjoyed.

“What are you drinking?” you ask, splaying your hands over the bar, leaning where it comes up to your chest. You try to ignore everything. The way Remus is making you feel, the busy pub that’s teeming with rowdy people.

“Not sure,” he quirks, eyeing the taps at the end of the bar. “What about you?”

“I think I might just stick to squash,” you laugh knowingly.

“You’re on it tonight,” Remus laughs, splaying his fingers around your shoulder.

“I’m not having any repeats of last week.”

“Damn,” he pouts, “Drunk Y/N is cute.”

You warm, “Drunk Y/N is messy.”

He squeezes you, a funny pinch. “I think you can be both.”

You lean into his side while he orders your drinks. His hand doesn’t move and you don’t want it to. It’s warm and grounding and feels too good to be true. How touchy he is and how you love it. You imagine a world where he doesn’t just touch your shoulder. Imagining what he’d do if you were together. How ruining he would be.

Distracted by his grip on your arm, before you can even reach into your purse to grab your money, he’s paid.

“Remus,” you scold, pushing yourself off the bar.

“Dove,” he smiles, placating. He grabs both of your drinks, in one hand, fingers twisting. The other snakes down to grab your hand to guide you through the crowd of people.

“Stop paying for my drinks.” Someone bumps into you and Remus digs his elbow into your side to stop you from tripping. You smile thankfully.

You let him weave you through patrons, your hand flexing around his until you get to your table. Once you've sat down, he says, “Sorry, didn’t think a fiver would cover it.”

Faux scolding, you shove his arm. “I have more money on me this time.”

“Good,” Sirius pipes up, “you can buy me that cocktail you owe me.”

“I’m sorry, Sirius.” You act like it genuinely does upset you. Though the thought of how you acted when you were drunk last week, is worse. “I’m a really annoying drunk.”

“Sirius is being dramatic,” Remus sighs, leaning back against the booth. He throws an arm behind you, pressing it up against the wall. You stay sitting forward, not sure if it’d be too much to lean into him. Despite him making the first move. “You got your cocktail.”

“Yeah, you bought it,” Sirius faux scoffs. It’s hard to believe that he actually cares about a stolen mojito, easier to believe he’s determined to tease you until you die. “Doesn’t count.”

“I’ll buy you a cocktail if you really want me to, Sirius,” you lilt, happy to get him to shut up. It works when Remus shoots him a look you don’t understand. Sirius bites his tongue and sits back in his seat.

By the time James and Lily get back from the bar, the band has started their set and you’ve had enough time to think too much on whether or not you should lean into Remus’s side. His weight behind you feels like a magnet. The more you want to pull away the stronger the urge is to just give up and fall against him.

Much like everything is with Remus. The more you allow yourself to think you really do like him, the harder it is to keep to your regular ways. You’ve never allowed yourself to be so openly affectionate and loving towards someone without second-guessing every single thing you do.

Not that you don’t. Every time you speak to him, touch his arm for too long or allow yourself to wrap your own arm around his back, there’s that voice in the back of your head that’s screaming at you. Telling you that you’ve let your guard down too much for a boy you’re not even sure likes you as much as you do him and you’ve embarrassed yourself.

It’s totally overwhelming and constantly feels like a back-and-forth battle. Because, sure, it's no secret anymore to anyone who isn't Remus, that you like him. You just wished it were easier.

As if he can hear your head reeling, or he’s just noticed how quiet you’ve suddenly become, he nudges your leg where it’s crossed with his own jean-clad one.

“You okay?” he asks. His face is soft. Too soft for your dismissive and relentless thoughts to ebb. It’s suddenly painful to even be looking at him and you’ve only been around him for no less than twenty minutes. He’s always had that ability.

The nod you give him is unconvincing and your smile is even worse. His eyes flicker and you open your mouth to speak before he can, “Yeah, jus’ thinking.”

“I can tell.”

“You can?”

You chance another look back at him and regret it instantly when he’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. “Yeah.” He nods, “You’re making that face you always do when something’s eating at you.”

Hating being read for filth, you turn to take a sip from your drink, filling your mouth with your straw lest you say something stupid. You drink it too quickly, and once it’s down to its last dregs, your head aches. Brain freeze. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to distract yourself when you say, “What face?”

“Your lips part and your eyebrows pinch. Sometimes I have to double-check you’re not crying.” Remus is a lovely, horribly attentive boy. And if he keeps saying things like that, things that let you know he does actually pay attention to you, you’re not going to last. When you said you wondered how ruining he would be, this isn’t what you had in mind.

Remus says something to you again, but you don’t catch it. The band transitions into a much louder song and his words fall on deaf ears. You do, however, catch the look he shares with Sirius again over your shoulder.

Confused, you suddenly think fresh air would be better than to pain yourself through whatever’s happening around you. “I’ll go get that mojito,” you mumble.

You weave yourself over Remus’s lap, careful where your shoes and hands land, careful to also ignore where he stables you with his own hand on the back of your knee. You try to make it discrete as you beeline for the bar, taking a small turn to head for the back doors.

The warm air cast from the setting sun slowly dwindles away and you cross your arms over your body, leaning against the railing to the left of the smoking area. When the door shuts behind you, the music from inside slowly dies down and you’re grateful to be the only one out here.

The fear you have been feeling throughout your entire friendship with Remus does its best to claw its way up your throat. Makes your breathing staggered and your palms itch. You suspect if you spent any more time with him inside you would’ve only embarrassed yourself more than you feel like you already have. Best you do it out here instead.

The muffled music slowly grows louder when you hear the door open and you pay it no mind. Not until there’s a hand on your shoulder. You flinch and turn around, pushing yourself against the railing.

“Shit, sorry. Just me,” Remus smiles, pulling his hand from your shoulder.

“Remus,” you breathe, hand to your chest, “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he frowns.

You pause. Trust him to notice your departure. You hope he doesn’t ask you any questions, you don’t expect yourself to hold anything in anymore if he soothes you over.

“You okay?”

Fuck sakes.

“Um, yeah.” You nod. Remus moves to your side, arm pressed up against the railing and you follow him. Turning so you’re face to face.

“You sure? You just kind of up and left.” he laughs weakly, stopping when he notices you don’t join in.

“Sorry,” you apologise.

“What for?” he asks kindly. You once more detest his kindness and his ability to get you to open up.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, leaning further into the railing and it rattles, “I’m being weird.” You’re not opening up like you’d expected, though the words you want to say to him are at the back of your mind, where they were once pushed away, slowly crawling forward. If he keeps looking at you like that, they might spill.

“You’re not.”

“I am. I’m thinking too much and it,” you heave a calming breath. You want to tell him how you feel, not ramble, “it hurts.”

“Hey,” He traces a line over the hinge of your elbow, “what’s going on in that head of yours, hm? Care to let me in?”

You swallow, “That’s the problem. I can’t find the words.”

“That’s okay.” He squeezes your arm, “Take your time.”

His gaze is soft though it still burns where it’s settled over your face, his grip on your arm is worse. Still, it’s grounding. You blink and take a few calming breaths.

The door opens up again and the band’s music spews back outside. It’s the same song that was playing the night you sat on Sirius's couch and you’d freaked about how it was both your favourite. In some cheesy, cliche way, you take it as a sign.

“I’ve never been one for showing, let alone telling someone how I feel about them,” you begin, “I’m not sure if that’s the most obvious thing ever, or if I’ve gotten really good at hiding it but…”

Remus is smiling widely, more smug than anything. It makes you nervous and you advert your gaze to the ground. Over the ash-strained brick tile under your sneakers, “Stop looking at me like that or I won’t be able to finish what I’m trying to tell you,” you sigh.

“Like what?” he asks like he’s oblivious. Like his mouth isn’t now upturned into the slyest smile.

“That!’’ Your face grows warm and you have to press the backs of your hands into them. You can feel the thrumming of your heart in your fingertips.

“Sorry, you were saying,” he chuckles.

“God, where did you get all this confidence from, Remus?” you ask, a little dazed. Maybe it’s the setting or the fact you’re both finally sober together that brings out a different side of him, though you can’t be sure.

Remus shakes his head, “I’m sorry, you just look so cute when you get flustered.”

Your mouth parts, a shocked, demure gasp slips past them. Gawping, you say, “You’re not drunk, are you?” It’s not the first time he’s said it, but it's the first time it feels different.

“Not this time. For once,” he laughs knowingly.

“Right,” you pause. Taking in a shuddered breath. In what world you would ever expect this to be easy, you’re not sure. You’re also not sure that doing this with Remus makes it easier. Easier, because he makes you feel secure and appropriately worked down to tell him anything; harder because it’s him you have to let your emotions go with. It’s him you have to let know of your heartachingly, sore feelings you have. He can’t just be there on the sidelines guiding you through it.

Remus watches you slip away into your shy, quiet self again. He can almost hear your thoughts reeling, “God, you’re worse than me.”

You giggle nervously, all pitched up and light, “You make me nervous,”

He steps forward and if your eyes weren’t stuck on the ground, you wouldn’t have noticed it. He’s smooth. “Do I now?” He hooks a knuckle under your downwardly pointed chin and gives it a tap.

You look back up, catching his gaze, “I hate you,”

“No you don’t,” he says matter of factly. Like its the most obvious thing ever. You’re sure it is.

“I don’t?” You blink slowly.

He closes the gap between you some more and suddenly you’re overwhelmed by him. The smell of his laundry detergent, something familiar and heady, mixed in with the cologne that you swear follows you home. Where the toe of his boot almost touches your sneaker and where the sleeve of his sweater catches on your bracelet because he’s as close as possible. Though you still think he’s not close enough.

His voice mixes in with the same song that’s playing inside and you can barely hear him when it builds to a crescendo and he says, “You weren’t about to go on some rant about how you love me?”

“Remus…” you murmur, quieter than the thumping of your heart in your chest,

“No?”

You bite your tongue, but it does nothing to stop you from saying, “God, yes. Just- kiss me, please.”

“What?” he asks, more shocked than you’ve been this entire interaction.

“Kiss me, Remus. Before the song ends.” You lean into him, up on the balls of your feet and pull your hands between your bodies.

Face to face, lips hovering over yours, he murmurs, “You sure?”

“Completely,”

It’s the last thing you say before Remus kisses you so hard, so deep, that you forget how it was even possible to form words in his presence before now. Snakes his arms around your back and holds you so close your shirt rides up until your skin presses into the soft material of his sweater.

He tastes of stout, a weird mixture against the lemon on your tongue. You can’t find it in you to mind when he hums into your mouth. A desperate, pleading sound that has you squeezing the flesh of his hips. Compared to the reserved and diffident relationship you’ve held with Remus up until now, the kiss you share is nothing alike. It’s passionate and heated. Longing.

The song ends and with a final tug of your bottom lip, he pulls away panting. Eyes skipping over your face, a little glassy and bouncy. “Fuck,” he murmurs.

Tugging on the hem of his sweater, you say, “What?’' with a light chuckle.

“If I…” Remus has to compose himself lest he says something embarrassing. Completely forward. “If I knew kissing you would’ve been like that…I would’ve done it ages ago.”

“I think I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a really long time,” you confess, giddily rocking back and forth on your feet. Canvas sneakers crushing into the ground.

“Yeah?” he hums. Smugness still ever present.

“Yeah.”

“Thoughts on me kissing you again?” he asks, still not letting you go where you’re held against his torso.

You look over his shoulder, “I think if you kiss me again, Sirius’s jaw might fall to the floor.”

Remus turns and spots Sirius and James almost pressed to the glass window. James doesn’t look as pleased, shoving a crumpled note into Sirius's palm. Turning back to face you, he rolls his eyes, “I think they had a bet going.”

“Should we give Sirius his money’s worth?” you giggle.

“I’m going to kiss you. But, not for Sirius.” Remus says, “Only because you look insanely beautiful right now and if I don’t do it again, my brain might go numb.”

“What are you waiting for then?”

“Nothing.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x female reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #marauders fanfiction #the marauders fanfiction #marauder x reader

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thecreelhouse · 15 days

Note

“What happened to my good girl?” Is soo Steve I just 🫠🫠

hi bb, thank you for sending this!! hope u enjoy <3

“Go ‘head, sweetheart,” Steve’s hand is tangled in your hair, pushing you closer to him, “Just like that movie you showed me.”

Recently, you showed him some tapes from your stash, depicting kinks and scenes you never tried, asking if he’d try new things with you. He had more experience than you, but you were a quick learner; an unexpected perfect match.

Despite being shy, you lick your lips without realizing, earning a low laugh from Steve. This seemed easy to get into when you watched another couple do it on screen, but now that it’s the two of you, the reality sets in, leaving you flustered.

“S’okay, we can take it slow, or not do it at allllll— h’mygod—“

Where the small boost of confidence came from, you’re unsure, but you find yourself biting softly along his legs, kissing the back of his thighs, dragging out the anticipation as you move slowly.

Steve looks so damn pretty with his legs spread and pulled back for you. He always looks pretty, but right now, the look on his face is about to send you to an early grave.

You’ve never seen Steve so needy and willing; even with his experience over you, he hasn’t tried this. To be his first makes you dizzy with desire.

“That’s it, honey, just like that,” Steve breathes, restraining himself from grabbing the back of your head and forcing you where he wants you. You suck slowly into the softest part of his inner thigh, causing him to shudder at the sensitivity.

You spread him further before spitting onto his tight hole; Steve whimpers and shivers on contact. The sight and sound are enough to let any shyness left dissipate, swirling your tongue around the taut ring, avoiding actually licking in the exact spot he needs you.

“M’fucking— o- oh, god,” Steve’s face contorts into pained pleasure; it feels so good, too good, to the point where he’s certain he won’t last very long. With every whimper, whine, and moan, you get bolder, lapping at his hole, ever so slightly curving the tip of your tongue teasingly into his entrance. “F— fuck, y’look so hot down there. Could get used to t-this view.”

You flatten your tongue against his hole, taking long, slow laps. Your eyes never leave his, despite his fluttering shut, heavy with lust. “Yeah? Could get used to eating you out, Stevie.” Your words send him into a spiral; he can’t wait any longer, he needs you closer.

Hands running through your hair, Steve pushes your face into him, groaning gravelly as his head falls back against the couch. Your arms wrap around his legs, fingers digging into him as your tongue tapers to fuck into him. You moan when he cries out, sending vibrations deeper into him.

“S- so fuckin’ filthy, baby…” He rocks himself softly against your mouth while you leave sloppy, open mouthed kisses before tongue fucking his hole again. Steve’s certain he could cum just from this. “Used to be so innocent, so sweet n’ quiet…”

“Uh-huh,” You pull back to spit crudely onto him before diving back into him.

“M’close, honey,” A moan slips out of him, airy and dazed. Your eyes roll back with a shudder of a moan, his words going straight to your core. You let go of one leg to touch yourself, heel of your palm rubbing against your clit as you continue rimming Steve. His high is just in reach after noticing the way you’re getting off on this.

“What happened to my good girl?”

You don’t answer with words, only continue a pattern of lapping and tongue fucking before he cums untouched, cock kicking as he spills onto his stomach, chest, and your pretty little face.

#prompts #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you

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stupidlittlespirit · 2 months

Text

Just For Tonight (Valentines Special)

Rating: NSFW, mdni Type: Longform Tags: Fake dating, no use of pronouns for reader, messy kissing, pretending to be in a relationship, making out, Reigen being a cheapskate, flirting, riding, fingering, PIV sex, glasses!reigen Word count: 9630 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3!

There's a nice new sushi place in town. It's a shame they're only offering discounts for couples....

“Valentine's day is a total scam,” declares Reigen, feet kicked up on his desk and lounging in his desk chair. “It’s so lame.”

It’s 5PM on a Wednesday afternoon and work is drawing steadily to a close. You’re filing the last few pieces of paperwork for today, tidying up your things before you head home for the evening, and all you’ve done is ask if any of your colleagues are doing something nice tonight for the lauded day.

In his typical fashion, however, Reigen has seized the opportunity to launch into a pointless spiel about his one-sided beef with made-up events and how much he doesn’t buy into them.

“It’s a capitalistic concept invented to sell cheap, poor quality products marked up by like, five hundred percent, to dumb idiots that are so blinded by love that they’ll part with cash hand over fist just to prove how much they allegedly care about someone,” Reigen yaps away. “Don’t people care about the integrity of love? People should show how they feel every day, not just when society tells them they have to. It’s a dumb holiday. It’s stupid. Totally ridiculous.”

“I heard that fancy new sushi place is doing half off for couples,” says Ekubo, floating aimlessly past your head.

“Half off?” says Reigen without missing a beat. “For real?”

You roll your eyes from behind your laptop and click it shut. Trust him to only care when he can save a few Yen.

“Yeah,” Ekubo yawns. “I was gonna go down there and haunt a few couples. Y’know, spoil their day or whatever.”

“Nice,” you snort, wafting the spirit away from your face. “That doesn’t scream bitter at all.”

Ekubo grins. “Gotta make entertainment somehow, honey. You have no idea how boring it is to be dead.”

It’s hard to look disapproving when you’re laughing but you shoot him a look anyway.

Reigen snatches his feet off of the desk and sits up straight, his chair creaking with the abrupt motion. He taps away on his PC, lightning fast, and makes a sound of interest. “Holy shit,” he says. “Looks like you’re right. Half off food and drink.”

Ekubo ignores him and turns his attention to you. “Any plans?”

You shake your head. While you’d rather not give him the satisfaction, you partly agree with Reigen. The holiday is a made up scam; almost every restaurant and bar in the city ups its prices under the guise of special dinners and intimate drinks, filling their windows with hearts and flowers and corny banners about love.

Being single on Valentine’s is even worse. No one wants to go out alone and the commiseration prize for being so is a condescending offering of dating events and pathetic ‘self love’ bullshit. It's unbearably sad and you'd rather drink a bottle of wine alone in the bath than be seen to engage in any of that shit.

Still, the thought of spending it with someone you have feelings for is, in theory, very attractive. It's just a shame the only person you want is sat two meters away and very much not interested in doing anything of the sort.

Bottle of wine in the bath it is, you think.

Once everything is packed up, you wish them both good nights and make your excuses to leave. Reigen lets you go without even looking up from his laptop and you decide that tonight, more than one bottle might be needed.

♡

At six thirty, just as you pour your first glass, your phone buzzes on the coffee table. You pick it up and flip it open, hoping this isn't going to be a late night call to come in to work even earlier tomorrow morning.

[Reigen] - are you free?

You stare at the message and another one comes in straight afterwards.

[Reigen] - obviously you are.

That’s a little hurtful but it’s not like he’s wrong. Why? you message back.

Three dots show up as he types, then they disappear, then return, and after a few minutes another message buzzes through.

[Reigen] - Emergency, meet me ASAP.

He pings through an address in the City and briefly, you're worried that he might be in trouble. The office diary hadn't listed any out of hours clients for tonight and it would be unlike Reigen to take a job that he couldn't handle alone; Serizawa is at night school this week to cram for exams and Mob is busy with his friends, so nothing is due to come up.

Another text comes through.

[Reigen] - and wear something nice.

You have absolutely no idea what he means by that, however if Reigen says it's an emergency then you'll never forgive yourself if you leave him high and dry. The last thing you want is for him to get hurt.

Must be a posh client, you think. Last minute demands for your presence are usually related to a high paying job, so it isn’t beyond the realm of possibility that he needs you to butter up a stuffy customer and show off some leg to make a sale. It wouldn’t be the first time and you usually get a good commission for your troubles. It’s easy money.

Sighing, you screw the cap back on your wine bottle and down the half-full glass in record speed.

It’s better than moping about alone.

♡

You make it there in thirty minutes, give or take. The short notice gives you just enough time to make yourself presentable, pick out an outfit and make it into the city, yet by some stroke of luck you manage to catch the last train into central.

The address isn’t far from the office and with a brisk pace, you make it in good time. It’s busy out here tonight. It’s hardly unexpected. You’re in the food district on a major holiday, throngs of people are wandering through here at the best of times.

What is, however, is the sight that greets you when you arrive at the map’s marked location.

Reigen is standing outside a dimly lit restaurant, browsing his phone in one hand and clutching a lush looking bouquet of roses in the other. You almost walk right past him, he's unrecognisable without his usual suit and tie; he's dressed in navy slacks and a perfectly white dress shirt, silver glasses on the end of his nose and hair styled nicely. He looks good.

“Reigen?” You ask, approaching him warily.

At the sound of his name, he glances up from his phone briefly to see who’s asking and double takes. He looks a little surprised to see you and you have to admit that you feel similarly.

“Oh,” he says, looking you up and down. “You made it.”

“Where’s the emergency?” You frown, looking past him to search for awaiting clients.

Reigen clears his throat and jerks his thumb over his shoulder, towards the restaurant. “Here.”

There are no concerned looking people waiting around behind him. In fact, the entire place looks to be filled with couples who are anything but. You glance between him and the shop front again, and wait for him to expand on why you’re here.

Reigen stares back at you for a moment and then proffers the bouquet. “Here,” he says, a little flushed in the face. “You like flowers, right?”

You stare at him, clearly confused, but you take them from him all the same. They’re roses, deep red and freshly cut, tied together in layers of pink paper that rival the colour on his cheeks. You have to admit, they're lovely.

“What are these for?” You ask, laughing. “Where are the clients? You said there was an emergency.”

Reigen looks slightly guilty and you realise, after a moment, that there isn’t any client. No one needs your help and there doesn't appear to be any spirit floating around to cause bother. Now that you think about it, the front of this place seems vaguely familiar and when you look again, you realise he’s totally played you.

“This is that fucking sushi place, isn’t it?” you sigh, shifting the flowers into the crook of your arm. If what Ekubo had said is true, it’s not like you’re going to get to take advantage of the discount he so desperately wants. “Reigen, we're not exactly….” You gesture between you both and the words that go unsaid are obvious: ‘a couple’.

“Look, they’re doing fifty percent off the whole menu!” Reigen launches into his reasoning and you can tell he’s practised it. “It’s just for tonight, and we don’t have to do anything except look like we are, right? They won't know any different!” He pouts slightly for good measure and you hate that it works so well on you. It always does. “Plus, they sell that swanky shrimp shit and I really wanna try it…. Please?”

The flowers suddenly make sense.

“Are you asking me to date you for the night?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. The concept is hardly unappealing. Reigen is cute and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. Well, thinking about it and dreaming about it are two very different things and the little candle you hold for him has only been getting bigger over time.

You’ve kept it quiet for the most part; the only person in the office that has any vague idea is Ekubo. He’s perceptive enough to have caught you looking when no one else is and although he's sworn to keep it a secret, you suppose if he isn't around then you can get away with playing things off as pretending.

He shrugs, unabashed in his request.

“Ugh,” is all you say and it's the vague confirmation he needs.

Reigen grins.

He drags you into the restaurant, hand wrapped around your wrist, and announces to the waiter that's taking stock of the visitors that he's booked a table for two. The waiter looks from Reigen, to you, to where he's holding you tightly by your arm.

“Tonight's dinner is for couple's, sir….” He says, looking unconvinced.

Reigen wilts slightly, letting go out of you and gesturing towards the flowers in your arms. “Uh,” he clears his throat. “We are.”

The waiter regards you both with suspicion and Reigen visibly prepares himself to argue with the guy. If you're honest, you'd really rather not cause a scene in an establishment like this by allowing him to fight with the first member of staff he comes into contact with.

The restaurant is clearly not made for people like the two of you: it's modern and luxurious, filled with mahogany and crystalline chandeliers, and all the staff look like they've smelled something unsavoury. It's clearly an upper-class joint.

Still, you think it might be nice to take advantage of an opportunity like this and you don't really want to spend tonight by yourself. Besides, you'll never hear the end of it if this gets screwed up and frankly, pretending to be on a date with him is probably as close to the real thing as you're going to get.

Reigen opens his mouth and you take his hand before he can get himself in trouble, slipping his arm around your waist and leaning into his side. He stiffens, looking at you in surprise, but you ignore him in favour of giving the waiter your best loving smile and lean into him.

Reigen smells like musky aftershave and something that’s distinctly him, and it makes your mouth water. “He's just shy,” you laugh, laying it on thick. “Of course we're a couple.”

It's important that you sell the idea first, Reigen had told you after you'd floundered a sales pitch once. Convince them even a little bit and the rest of it sells itself.

The advice is sound enough and you decide that the situation calls for a little more manipulation in order to close the sale and get the fucking stupid shrimp your boss wants. If nothing else, this'll teach him a lesson for tricking you into things. You press a chaste, but decent, kiss to the corner of his mouth and shoot the waiter a look that you hope conveys how much a couple in love would definitely do something like that.

You can feel your body warm up and you will yourself to stay relaxed, hoping your face doesn’t show how silly you really feel.

Reigen isn’t doing as good a job at running with things and he laughs, a little manic and high pitched. He mumbles something about you being right and gingerly squeezes your waist.

The waiter sighs and gestures for you to follow, apparently adequately persuaded.

When you risk a glance at Reigen, he's alarmingly red and slightly sweaty. All of the argumentative energy has left his sails and he seems rooted to the spot, unable to meet your eyes.

It's more than a little entertaining. You slip out of his half embrace and take his hand, having to drag him along in the wake of the waiter when it becomes clear that he’s forgotten how to move independently. “This better be the best fucking sushi I've ever had,” you warn him, but it's hard not to smile when he almost trips over his own feet on the way to the table.

♡

The meal is otherworldly.

It's a testament to how the other half live. You've never had seafood like this before and knowing you probably won't have it again seems to make it all the sweeter. Everything is ten times better than the usual places you go.

Reigen lets you order whatever you want, provided it’s on the discount menu, obviously, and he even shares some of his fancy shrimp with you. Not much, but some.

The atmosphere is nice, too. Admittedly it's very romantic, candle lit and dark, and you suppose that is rather the point of it all. The lights stay low, the music is soft, and even the sushi arrives arranged into cute little hearts.

Your company is even better. Reigen has taken you out to eat before but usually he drags you to a cheap ramen place on the way home from work, and he always makes for entertaining companionship. This, though, is new. You've never actually gone out with him for a proper dinner and the entire time you sit across from him, you can't stop the way your stomach flutters at the thought of spending time like this together. It's silly, really.

It's not like this is a real date, after all. You don’t want to push the boat too far. There’s no sign that he actually feels any way about you beyond needing your compliance for his plan and you don’t want to make an idiot of yourself by getting too into it all.

You're halfway through sharing a round of nigiri when you realise Reigen is holding your hand. You're not sure how you missed him do it to begin with. After you'd sat down to eat, Reigen had been quick to keep himself to himself. The rosy tint to his face had stayed for a long time after your little over the top display and you had assumed he’d been too embarrassed to try something similar again.

Except halfway through dinner, you realise that his fingers are laced with yours as he laughs about a comment Mob had made the day before and he seems completely oblivious to the way his thumb is stroking over your knuckles.

You don't intend to mention it. It feels nice and you can't deny how enjoyable it is to play pretend like this with him, except he must catch your line of sight because he hums into his water glass, starting like it's also the first time he's noticed it, and starts to untangle himself.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Sorry, I didn't-”

“I don't mind,” you say immediately. You're not sure what makes you blurt it out, but you tighten your grip to prevent him from backing off and surprisingly he gives in with no resistance.

He glances up at you, taken aback, and you try to clarify your meaning with only the tiniest of white lies. “The waiter already thinks we're making it up,” you say hurriedly. “We should probably keep it up until we leave, right? I’m not getting stuck with the full bill.”

Reigen raises his brows, seemingly astounded that you're not horrified by the concept of holding his hand, and he nods quickly to hide the expression. “Good idea,” he says, tangling his fingers with yours again. “Just for a bit longer.”

The hand holding lasts for more than just a bit. Even when you eat, neither of you let go of one another and no one mentions it. Sushi is easy to eat with one hand anyway, so it’s unobtrusive and easily forgotten. In fact, it’s oddly natural.

As the evening ticks on, you both relax enough that you start to forget that you’re supposed to be acting like you’re totally in love. It’s easy to get on with Reigen. You’ve always played off of each other well and this doesn’t feel any different to how you always behave around each other.

Beyond the handholding and the way his knees bump against yours under the table, you could be anywhere with him right now and you’re not sure you’d notice the change.

You’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse about the situation.

The menu extends to several good wines and some specialty cocktails too, and in spite of the fact that you’re both scheduled to work tomorrow, you’re not shy about indulging. A single glass for you becomes another and even Reigen takes a risk on a second cocktail once he realises they’re serving something with citrus and fizz in it.

By the end of dinner you’re both getting on for being tipsy. Reigen begs off halfway through, a lightweight as usual, and relinquishes his for you to finish instead. It's probably for the best. His face is turning a pretty pink as he leans forward on the table, the alcohol bleeding into his system nicely, and dinner has been far too nice to puke up on the way home.

The alcohol settles in quickly and as mixing drinks tends to do, it goes to your head. You're not quite drunk, but you're not stone cold sober either. You think it might be why you stop paying attention to whatever Reigen is saying and start to let your thoughts wander a bit.

He's busy explaining a job from a few weeks ago, one that according to Mob had been fairly dicey, yet as you polish off the remainder of your glass, you’re not really listening to him brag about how he’d definitely been the one to save the day anymore.

You’re far too busy admiring the view to care about his stories. The fine wine feels like it cushions your mind in velvet, warming you up from the inside out and blurring everything around you except from him.

The chatter of the restaurant has faded away and the intimate lighting makes it feel like it’s just the two of you in here, trading stories and laughing with each other.

Reigen talks with his hands a lot, especially when he's had a drink, and while he expresses how close he’d come to death for the fifth time that day, he rocks your joined hands back and forth in time with his free one.

Reigen has nice hands: they’re wide and square, strong from all of his massages, with thick, long fingers you can’t help but imagine in places entirely unsuited to a public restaurant.

You’re enjoying a mental movie of said fingers on your body when he waves his hand in front of your face. Obviously you’re not doing a good enough job at showing him the attention he so craves.

“You're drunk,” he says, amused at your embarrassed look.

“No, I'm not,” you protest weakly. The stupid smile on your face belays your dishonesty and Reigen is clearly entertained. He blatantly doesn't believe you and you hide a laugh behind your hand. “Anyway, if I am, it's your fault.”

Reigen pretends to look aghast at the suggestion. “I'm your boss, I'd never get my employee drunk,” he scoffs.

“You don't remember having to scrape me off the floor of that bar at the Christmas party last year?” That one had been a particularly messy night out, even for you. You’re still all banned from the place for being idiots.

He smirks and you can see he's recalling it in real time. “That was your fault, not mine.”

“No way, you practically plied me with alcohol,” you say, laughing. “Very irresponsible of you.”

“Shut up,” Reigen grins and nods to the bouquet that’s propped up on the chair beside you. “I’m a great boss! I got you flowers, didn’t I?”

“Only so I’d date you under duress!” You say.

“I mean, sure, but also because you never get anything for Valentine’s.”

You stare at him, totally caught off guard by the confession. For what it's worth, Reigen looks even more surprised that he's said it. “I…. How did you-”

“Uh,” Reigen rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “I… heard you talking to Serizawa about it last week.”

You can barely remember the conversation yourself. Serizawa had been talking about seeing flower arranging classes at his school and you'd made a comment whilst Reigen had been in the other room making tea, off the cuff and totally meaningless, about how you'd never gotten them before, not even for Valentine's day. It hadn't been said for any reason other than conversation, but it had been true. Up until now, anyway.

“Reigen, I-” You don't know if you should be over the moon that he cares so much or humiliated that the object of your affection knows about your shitty dating history. “Thank you.” You say finally, giving his hand a squeeze. “I think that's the nicest thing someone has done for me for a long time.”

Reigen shrugs it off like it's nothing and you're reminded of how much you really, really fucking like this guy. He's so sweet and kind and thoughtful, and no matter how frustrating he can be, he makes up for it so easily that you can never hold it against him.

Your head swims and ridiculously, your eyes start to burn a little.

You’d really rather not cry in front of him and very graciously, Reigen pretends not to notice. Instead, he reaches for the desert menu and this time, he tells you to pick whatever you like.

♡

For the last stretch of the night, the two of you share mochi and a couple more cocktails. The wine is a little heavy for dessert and Reigen talks you into splitting drinks so neither of you get completely wasted.

You're using them and his accidental confession over your flowers as an excuse to show a little more affection than you ought to, and he doesn't give the impression that it's a problem for him. He does start a little when you press your ankle to his under the table at one point, but at your apology and attempt to move it back, he catches your foot between his and holds it there without comment.

The casual touch becomes a subtle form of footsie without either of you consciously meaning it to and by the time dinner is done, you're sitting with your legs slotted together. Despite the fact you've let go of each other's hands to eat, everything feels much more intimate than it had at the start of tonight.

On the last few pieces of mochi, Reigen pauses his chewing. “You've got-” He gestures to his lower lip and you realise he's signifying that there's something on your mouth. “S'not much.”

Your hand flies up to seek out whatever he's talking about and you're mortified momentarily, expecting something obvious and gross clinging to your teeth, but your fingers come away clean with only a little powdered sugar on the tips.

“Oh,” you say, with a relieved laugh. “I guess I've had worse on them.” It isn't supposed to sound suggestive and the hidden meaning bypasses you until Reigen opens his smart mouth.

“Yeah,” he mutters, smirking to himself. “I bet.”

His comment comes out of nowhere and you almost choke on air, blindsided by the double entendre.

Reigen realises you've heard him and he turns so red you're sure he could light the entire way home. He panics a little, holding his hands up and starting to stammer out an apology until he realises you're laughing.

It's more than a little funny and you really don't don't mind. In fact, you suddenly wonder how far you can get him to take things. If he's making jokes like that, you're intrigued to see if you can coax out a different side to him. Just because he's your boss, that doesn't mean you both have to be uptight and on your best behaviour all of the time.

And anyway, it's all in good fun tonight. Couples are supposed to flirt, aren't they?

“Are you trying to push my buttons?” You ask, sucking the sugar from your fingertips and smiling over at him.

Reigen's eyes follow the motion and he clears his throat. “No, I-” He glances up at you, eyes searching yours, and you can almost hear the bell go off in his head when he realises he's safe to mess around a little.

A slow grin begins to bloom on his face and, slipping comfortably back into a playful attitude that you always enjoy being around, he shrugs. Reigen sits forward to lean on the table and props his chin up on his fist. “What are you gonna do if I am?” he asks, smirking. “Report me?”

You mirror him, leaning on the table too, and feint innocence. “No idea,” you say, layering on the helplessness. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll have to call HR and tell them my superior is bullying me….”

“Oh yeah?” Reigen's grin grows, cocky and lopsided. “Unfortunately,” he says, taking your hand again without acknowledging it. “I run that department too.”

Biting your lip to hold back a laugh, you duck your head and take the bait he's so clearly dangling in front of you. “Then I have a complaint to make about my boss….”

“Your boss?” Reigen says, tilting his head and pretending to recall who you might mean. He's extraordinarily good at committing to the bit. “Oh, you mean that really good looking, powerful psychic guy?”

“Uh huh,” you laugh softly and you run your toes up his ankle under the table. “Super powerful, very handsome.”

Reigen's eyes dart down toward where you're touching him, unseen, and he clears his throat again. “Handsome, huh?” He says, playing it as cool as he can. “How handsome are we talking?”

“Oh,” You smirk, shrugging one shoulder. It's hard not to break into giggles, not least because he's so cute when he thinks he's being subtle about fishing for compliments. “Enough that I don't mind him pushing a few of those buttons, I suppose.”

You know you're supposed to be joking around. All of this is a joke, a game, and yet…. The way he's allowing your touch, letting you do it back to him, it's impossible not to keep pushing.

Reigen's brow twitches and he grins. “And what if he pushed them harder?”

“I don't think I'd say no,” you sigh happily. “I like my buttons pushed pretty hard.”

“Careful,” Reigen warns playfully. “I heard he's bad news.”

You laugh under your breath. “He's not that bad once you get to know him.”

“You think so?” Reigen asks, eyes searching yours. Nonchalant, he takes your hand again and turns it over until your palm is facing upwards so he can draw slow circles on the soft skin

The sensation makes you shiver. Distractedly, you chew on your lower lip and nod. “Don't tell him, but I think he secretly likes being nicer than he gives himself credit for….”

Transfixed by your mouth, Reigen bites down on a grin. “How do you know what he likes in secret?” he says quietly. “I bet you've never even asked….”

“D'you think he'd tell me?” You say, toeing off your shoe to push your foot past his trouser leg and curl it around his calf. It's risky and stupid, and you can't even play it off as part of tonight's front, but Reigen doesn't seem to mind at all. “If I did.”

Something has changed in his gaze and all of a sudden, it doesn't feel like you're acting the part anymore. The two of you are very, very close together now and the air feels charged, like it's full of static that's pulling you towards him. He's only a few inches away from your face and you can smell the sweet scent of lemon on his breath.

Reigen is still trying to play it cool, working hard to maintain his composure as though he isn't sweating nervously. “Maybe if you show him yours, he'll show you his.”

“Yeah?” The din of the restaurant is distant and muted, like your head is full of cotton wool, and all you can concentrate on is the way he keeps licking his lips.

Reigen meets your eyes again and there's a tiny glimmer of hopeful interest in them. He doesn't appear to be joking anymore. “Go ahead,” he mutters. “Run it by me first.”

You're practically touching noses by now, leant across the table in each other's space, and if you were to tilt your head only a tiny bit, to pull on his hand, to drag him down onto you, you think you might be able to finally get the real kiss you've been dreaming of since you-

“Are you ready for the bill?”

A voice cuts through the woolly atmosphere, loud and abrasive, and both of you almost fall off of your chairs in sheer surprise, jerking away and righting yourselves in your chairs. You whip your foot back, Reigen stops touching your hand, and the intimate air abruptly feels broken and ruined.

“Apologies,” says the waiter, not looking very sorry at all. “But we do need the table.”

You can barely look up at the guy, face burning hot. It feels like you’ve been caught in the broom closet with your boss, doing something far worse than winding each other up, and Reigen seems just as embarrassed. Awkwardly, he takes the small, folded piece of paper from the waiter and reaches into his back pocket for his card.

♡

Reigen pays the whole bill and when you attempt to offer your half, he looks at you like you're insane. Typically, you split the bill with him whenever you go out to eat. He's a cheap bastard and you know better than to expect anything less, but he refuses your offer the second you hold out your own card.

He doesn't even complain about it, either, apparently just happy to have achieved his goal of qualifying for the discount he's been aiming for all night.

Once everything is settled, Reigen calls a cab for you both to share and the whole time you wait for it, you stand arm in arm with him, grinning like idiots and laughing together about cheating the system.

The taxi arrives quickly and in it, you sit closer to him than necessary, warm and toasty against his side.

The journey is quiet to begin with. You're sated and full, and still a little tipsy, so the silence isn't unpleasant. Slumped down in your seat, hiding your face from him, you can't stop turning over the memories of the dinner. He'd been so close to you, so within kissing distance, and you're too nervous to say anything about it in case he laughs you off.

What if he was just playing along? you think silently. What if I'm reading into it? The thought is nauseating. Perhaps you've sold the idea of dating him a bit too hard….

At your side, Reigen clears his throat softly and you shift so that you can see him properly. He’s sitting so close to you that your head is practically on his shoulder, and he looks down at you with a small, soft smile.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “For coming. And for, y'know, going along with it. I hope it wasn't too weird.”

“I had a lot of fun, Reigen.” You laugh quietly. “Thank you. It was totally worth it.”

Reigen snorts. “I think we sold it pretty well, too,” he says. “Especially, y’know, on the way in.”

Oh, you think. The kiss.

“Sorry,” you duck your head and laugh, awkward. “I didn’t think he was gonna let us in and, well, you told me to make it work, so….”

He doesn't say anything and risking a look back up, you see that Reigen is watching you closely again, just as he had in the restaurant. Reigen smiles slightly, so warm and soft that your stomach feels like it might climb up your throat, and he looks down at your mouth again.

“Maybe I need to call HR,” he says with a half-laugh. “Kissing a subordinate is probably against some kinda law or something.”

There’s a playfulness in tone, like he's joking and simultaneously trying to see what your reaction to such a comment will be.

You decide to test the water. “Depends on whether the subordinate is into it, I guess….”

Reigen smirks, teasing, and a little bit relieved that you're not backing off. “I dunno, they didn’t get the chance to tell me.”

You realise he’s talking about the conversation you’d had before you had been so rudely interrupted, and your nerves flutter. Tonight has been full of flirting and teasing, and if you're still playing stupid games, you suppose you might as well go all in and see what happens.

You're both tipsy enough that you can play it off if he doesn't go for it. “Well,” you say, biting your lip. “I guess I'm pretty partial to a redhead. Especially if they’re in charge of me.”

“Yeah?” he says quietly, smile growing.

“And men with big mouths that they can't keep shut, too,” you smirk, glancing down at his.

“Noted,” he chuckles, his breath ghosting over your face. “Anything else you like?”

You look back up at his smug expression and decide you can't let him get too ahead of himself. “And swallowing.”

Reigen makes a funny noise, strangled and hoarse, and closes his eyes for a moment. “Fuck,” he murmurs. You can see his throat bob up and down as he tries to compose himself, and when he finally opens them again, he looks like he's struggling to keep it together. A blush crawls up his throat and the look in his eyes is so hungry it makes your knees go weak.

“Fuck HR,” Reigen says, and then sways forward slightly with the motion of the car and, leaning the rest of the way into your space, he ducks his head and kisses you.

Your eyes flutter shut and he cradles the side of your face, turning your head so he can get you exactly where he wants you.

It’s soft and nervous at first, like he's still not sure if he's making the right move and he pulls away almost as soon as he makes contact, only to return without hesitation for a second and a third at your insistent sounds. The chaste kisses become deeper as he lingers, slow and unhurried, and you can taste the sweetness from your desserts and drinks.

It’s so unbelievably fucking perfect.

You press your tongue against his and he gives a low groan, his hand finding your thigh to pull you closer. The kisses keep coming, his fingers trail upwards, crawling closer and closer to your lap, and you drag your teeth over his lower lip when he pulls away to breathe.

Reigen looks like he's had more than just a couple of cocktails to drink now; his face is redder than ever, his gaze glassy, and he's panting against your mouth like he's run a mile. You press another kiss to the corner of his lips and you shift in your seat, encouraging his hand to explore even higher.

He does as he’s asked, thick fingers slipping up between your legs and he leans down again to keep kissing you while he teases you through the fabric of your clothes.

You sigh into his mouth. His touch doesn’t feel like it’s anywhere near enough, the sensation dulled by your stupid fucking outfit, and you try to press up into him to seek out more.

Reigen laughs at your desperation, mumbling a stupid comment about being needy, and you bite his lip again in warning. “Careful,” You whisper, reaching over to palm him through his slacks with a smirk. “Don’t get smart.”

Reigen chokes out a grunt and his hips buck up of their own accord. He’s already hard, tenting his slacks, and you're not about to let him think he's in charge of the show. “HR won’t be happy if they find out I didn’t get my way,” you tut, rubbing his cock up and down slowly. “Then you will be in trouble.... And we don't want that, do we?”

Reigen hisses, eyes dark and pupils blown wide. He stares you down, challenging your gaze, and he smirks at your unwillingness to let him get away with being an asshole. He goes to kiss you again, surging forward, and then the taxi driver clears his throat very loudly.

You're yanked back into your surroundings. The car is parked up outside your apartment, engine running, and the driver is watching you in the mirror. He doesn't look very impressed. “You kids mind taking this somewhere else?”

You cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing and grab your bouquet of flowers, flinging open the door while Reigen grabs whatever cash he has in pocket and flings it into the driver's tray.

He scrambles out of the car, darts around the back and grabs you by the hand, dragging you away and ignoring the guy's shouts of how much he's overpaid.

You only live on the first floor. Your apartment is small and simple, so much so that it hardly qualifies as much more than a shoebox with a kitchen attached, and you have to shuffle around in the hallway in order to let Reigen get inside.

He passes down the hall and makes his way into the main room, and once you’ve locked the front door you go after him. He's hovering about in the tiny living area, hands in his pockets as he inspects your room, and you drop the flowers on your coffee table whilst he’s busy.

This is the first time he’s been in here. On a proper night out, you tend to crash at his if you can’t make it home; it’s marginally bigger than yours and the cab is cheaper, which means his place always wins out. It’s a new experience to have him in your space like this.

“This is nice,” Reigen says awkwardly, gesturing to the apartment at large. “Cozy.” He seems a little stiff, unsure what to do now that he’s here.

You snort, coming to stand in front of him. “What are you, an estate agent?” You put your hands on his chest and guide him backwards until his legs hit the edge of your bed, and he falls back with a soft thump!

Willing and able, Reigen makes room for you between his legs. He pushes himself up on his elbows and looks on as you begin to undress. Your movements are slow and deliberate, never once looking away from him, and you can see his breathing pick up in pace.

He’s hypnotised by every move you make. You shed your clothes until you're in just your underwear, exposed to him, and climb carefully into his lap. You take off his glasses and lean over to deposit them on the bedside table before going back to him.

Reigen's hands come up to hold your waist and he boosts himself upward to restart his feverish kisses. He's ungainly and needy, licking and biting his way back into your mouth while you start to strip him of his dress shirt. You make quick work of the buttons, slipping them out with deft fingers and peeling the fabric away.

You tug at the back of his shirt until it slips free of his slacks, hands wandering over his lower back as you explore his soft skin. Much to your delight, the muddy freckles on his face continue down his shoulders, cascading onto his upper arms and spattering the pale skin like paintbrush flecks.

Reigen's body is slight. Narrow and slim, yet soft at the edges. He isn't very muscular; you know he runs on the weekends and you suppose he stays reasonably fit in order to chase after the others at work, so there's a subtle hint of strength hidden underneath the puppy fat of his stomach.

It's more attractive than it has any right to be.

Without breaking away from his kisses, you slip your hands down his chest and work your fingers under his belt until you reach the buckle, blindly undoing it with practiced skill.

The metal gives way and you slide the leather from the pin quickly to give yourself easier access. You're about to do the same to the buttons when he pulls away from you panting hard and clinging to your hips.

You try to chase his mouth, still pressing open mouthed kisses there while he tries to speak.

“Wait, wait,” Reigen says, voice hoarse. “Hang on.”

“Are you alright?” You ask, leaning back to make sure he's okay.

Reigen looks bashful, eyes searching yours. He goes to say something and then stops himself, visibly nervous about whatever he intends to say. "I…" He sighs, closing his eyes to steel himself. Whatever is wrong, it’s enough for him to reconsider what he's doing.

He doesn't move you off of him, but he suddenly looks like he wants to hide away somewhere. His flirty confidence from earlier is gone, replaced with the same shyness he'd shown when you had kissed him at the restaurant.

You take his face in his hands and force him to look up at you again. “Reigen, what is it? If you're uncomfortable, we can-”

“No!” He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your middle to keep you still. “It's not that, I just…. I'm-” Reigen groans, not out of pleasure but embarrassment, and he buries his face in your shoulder. “I haven't really…. Done this. Before”

“What, fuck an employee?” you say, laughing quietly. “It's alright, I was just kidding about making a complaint, I-”

“No, I mean this,” he mumbles into your shoulder. “Sex.”

You push at his chest until he has to sit up, revealing his cherry red face. He's uncharacteristically out of his depth and you're confused as to what he's saying . “You mean, like, it's been a while?” You ask.

Reigen grimaces, shaking his head. “Like, ever.”

“What?” You don't mean for the shock to show so obviously. He’s clearly already struggling and you gaping down at him like he’s mad won’t help the situation, however the idea that he’s never had sex before is utterly insane to you.

“I’m sorry,” Reigen apologises, avoiding meeting your eyes. He shuffles like he means to get up, jostling you about. “I didn’t wanna say anything, I know it’s stupid I can just go-”

“Reigen, stop,“ you put your hands on his shoulders and he stills, nervously glancing up at you through his lashes. He looks like he expects you to laugh at him, to kick him out now that you know his secret. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think it’d be a good topic over dinner,” Reigen huffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s embarrassing, obviously.” He’s very obviously humiliated by his admission and it makes your chest ache to see him so uncharacteristically vulnerable.

His point is valid enough; tonight was supposed to be fake, it’s not like there had been any need for him to tell you anything of the sort. Still, you feel a little bad for pushing him so much now. Admittedly it’s a surprise. He always seems to know what to say and being able to talk the talk usually gets you pretty far when it comes to sex, but the more you think about it, the more it starts to make sense.

All throughout dinner, he’d been happy to shoot the shit with you when he’d thought it was just a game, however the moment you’d done anything that even bordered on actual affection, he’d been decidedly less confident. Even in the car, his touches were hesitant and his kisses were unskilled.

You run a hand up his chest to soothe him, watching his tense shoulders relax. “Idiot,” you say, fond. “I don’t care.”

Reigen raises his eyebrows. “You don’t?”

“Not even a little bit,” you smile, leaning down to kiss him again.

Reigen doesn’t stop you. He breathes out heavily through his nose, gradually beginning to calm down, and you decide that things will have to go a little differently than you’d originally intended. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” You murmur.

He nods quickly and you trail kisses from the side of his mouth down to his jaw line, open mouthed and hot, and he tips his head back with a groan. His skin tastes slightly salty, probably from sweating so much around you, and you drag your teeth over his pulse point.

Reigen sighs happily. He squeezes your hips, grabbing them gently and digging his blunt nails into the skin.

You slip out of your bra and toss it across the room. You stop bothering his neck in order to sit up, and you guide his hands up from your hips to caress your chest.

His big hands grope at you, squeezing experimentally as he explores the new sights, enjoying himself immensely. It makes you keen under his touch and he grins, his bravery growing at your enjoyment.

You unbutton his slacks whilst he's busy touching you up and slip a hand into them to palm at him through his underwear. Reigen grunts and presses his hips up into you, seeking friction to rut against, and you push down to meet him.

He gasps at the contact, his hold on your hips tightening, and before he can get carried away with dry humping you, you tug at his slacks and force him to stop. “Take these off,” you instruct, climbing off of his lap to give him room.

Reigen scrambles to shove off his trousers, kicking them away with his underwear and shuffling back into place, lightning fast. His eagerness is horribly endearing and it makes you grin. You slip out of your underwear and push him back against the pillows. “Lay back,” you smile.

Reigen does as he's told and with him flat on his back, you can finally see him as exactly as you've imagined. A trail of deep red hair leads down to a small patch that surrounds his thick cock, well kept and neat.

His thighs are curved nicely, long legs stretching down to hang off of your bed, and they show far more evidence of his exercise than his upper body. Regardless, he's gorgeous from head to toe. It drives you insane and you drink in the view for a second.

Reigen begins to look a little self-conscious at your attention. He squirms under your scrutiny and you're quick to settle his fear, straddling his waist and kissing him again until he forgets all about his worry.

You trade touches with him, hands roaming over one another as you make out for a while and Reigen's bravery begins to grow. He's encouraged by your soft sighs and casual exploration of his own body, and quite bravely he walks his fingers down from your hip to your bare pussy.

Your breath catches and you look down to him, giving him the silent go ahead.

Reigen bites his lower lip. He looks excited and shy all at the same time. Very carefully, he runs his fingers along the soft folds of you and studies your face to see how you react to his touches.

You gasp and tilt your body towards him, opening your legs to give him better access to you. His fingertips meet wetness and he makes a soft sound, both interested and surprised, and he trails them through your arousal.

Reigen is so busy investigating the feeling that he seems to forget that you're attached to the other end. He toys with your pussy, listening to you gasp and moan, grinning to himself greedily.

“Reigen,” you whine, reaching down to cover his hand with your own. “Put your fucking fingers in me before I-!”

He does as you ask, pushing one into your cunt and silencing your command. You moan loudly and push down onto his hand, desperately seeking more.

“Should I just….” Reigen looks a little awkward, unsure how to proceed, and with your hand that holds his wrist, you guide his finger in and out slowly.

“Keep doing that,” you sigh. “That's perfect.” The motion makes you shudder and you grab at his shoulder with your other hand. Reigen works his hand up and down, slow and steady as though he has all the time in the world.

You’re so wet that he hardly has to wait to add a second finger and you encourage him along to keep him calm.

Reigen appears to be enjoying the praise you give. His cock is hard against your hip, precum smearing against the skin when you shift, and he rocks into you in time with his fingers.

As he moves his digits within you, you lean back to take hold of his cock, squeezing him gently. Reigen practically mewls when you do so, cock twitching in your grip.

You bring your hand back to spit in it and gently, you coat his cock until it's wet enough to glide your hand along smoothly, starting to stroke him.

Reigen gasps and bucks upward into your hold, desperate for more as he grips the sheets with his free hand. He adds another finger into you carefully, watching your face with barely concealed awe. His fingers inside you burn in the best way, and Reigen's digits curl perfectly to hit your sweetest spot, making you cry out.

He pauses for a second, frightened he might have done something wrong, and you shake your head at his silent query. “Don’t stop,” you say, breathless.

Reigen nods and moves in time with you for a minute, unable to look away from where you sit above him. His hand speeds up as yours does and within minutes, Reigen is falling apart under your touch.

Worried he'll get carried away, you lift up off of his hand and guide his fingers out. At first, he protests with an annoyed grunt, trying to snatch you back down, and you shove him back by his chest, grinning.

Reigen looks confused until you shift backward to hover over his cock and he catches on quickly.

“Ready?” You ask, making sure he's okay.

Reigen nods quickly and takes hold of your waist. “Fuck, yes, please.”

You can't help but tease him a little, rubbing the head of his erection over your cunt for a moment and watching how easily he works himself up with unrestrained glee.

He goes to say something smart and you seize the chance to catch him off guard. You ease your weight down onto him until finally, you're completely filled by him. It feels so good you cry out and pitch forward, bracing your hands on his chest.

Reigen chokes out a moan, grip on your waist tightening, and he screws his eyes shut. He tenses for a moment, trying to calm himself before he can manage to go on. As much as you'd like to let loose, you force yourself to be patient. If he's never done this before then you can't ride him too hard to begin with. He'll come in five seconds flat and you're desperate to feel him for as long as possible.

“Relax,” you coo, covering his hands with your own. “Look at me.”

Reigen manages to open his eyes and you smile, reassuring. “Take a deep breath, don't panic.” You say, running your thumbs over his hands. “You're doing so well.”

Reigen blushes and manages a sheepish smile, breathing in and out slowly.

After a long minute, Reigen nods for you to go on, and you lift yourself up and down slowly, thighs straining as you move. He watches you in disbelief for a second, like he's committing the sight of you to memory, and a big grin crawls onto his face. “Fuck,” he gasps. “You're so fucking hot.”

The compliment is unexpected and you feel your face warm up. Having his fingers in you feels like nothing in comparison to the way he's looking at you right now, hungry for more and leering at the sight of you on his cock.

You can't stop yourself from smiling and you roll your hips forward, slow to begin with. Each move has you both moaning and sighing, encouraging each other to give more and more until you're not sure who's fucking who anymore.

Reigen's eyes roll back when you speed up, eyes fluttering to stay open. His fingers are digging into your skin and the thrill of being bruised by him runs straight to your pussy.

The room fills with only tiny moans and sounds of fucking; No smart come backs, no more faking, just pure pleasure and excitement.

With a good pace set, you run your fingers over your clit, sighing happily as you circle your touch. It feels so good that you can't even focus on keeping rhythm, your hips stuttering a little.

Reigen seizes the moment to take charge of the moment instead of letting you control the movements, and he fucks up into you. His confidence is unexpected so you barely have time to process what happens, falling forward and leaning on his chest for support. His gaze moves from your face to where your tits bounce, and back up again. He meets your eyes and the sight of one another is enough to make both of you laugh.

He sits up a bit and presses your foreheads together, kissing you over and over, messy and uncoordinated as he gets closer. You both make soft little sounds, panting into each others space like you're desperate for air, and as your fingers work furiously over your clit, you begin to feel a coil build in your stomach; you're so close you feel like you might explode, and you cry out when Reigen snaps his hips particularly hard.

It's enough to force you over the edge and you tighten around him, body shuddering as your climax hits you. You moan his name loudly as the waves wash over you and the sensation is obviously too much for Reigen, because he buries his face in your neck and makes the most obscene noise you've ever heard.

It's somewhere between a sob and a moan, but his voice breaks halfway through and he bites down hard on your neck to stifle himself.

You can feel him cum inside you, cock twitching, and you collapse forward onto him the second he's done. Both of you go limp, lying pressed up against each other as you try to catch your breath again. Neither of you move for a while and it isn’t until you feel your thighs begin to cramp that you decide you’re going to have to get off. You lift up off of him carefully and you both groan at the loss as he slips out from you, cum trailing after his soft cock, and you flop beside him on the bed.

Reigen looks thoroughly fucked. His hair is astray and his mouth is red, lips bitten and slightly swollen from all the attention you’ve given them throughout tonight. You know you probably don’t look much better, but you’re so exhausted you can’t bring yourself to care.

You shuffle up into his side and Reigen tucks an arm under you, pulling you in close. Your eyes are growing heavy against your will and Reigen drags your leg up over his hips to make you more comfortable.

He draws circles on your skin with his thumb, breathing slowing to a normal pace. The silence is comfortable and calming, and you’re almost drifting off by the time you manage to speak again.

“You okay?" you whisper, peering up at him.

Reigen hums, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Yeah,” he says, sounding entertained. “Very.”

You laugh quietly to yourself at his smug face and snuggle closer to his side. He squeezes your upper arm gently and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Are you?” He asks.

“Definitely,” you sigh happily and close your eyes. “I think we went above and beyond to convince that place tonight, don’t you?”

Reigen smiles into your hair. “Eh, maybe we should go out a few more times. Just to make sure.”

You grin into the crook of his neck. “Sure, if you’re paying.”

Reigen chuckles and gives your ass a gentle slap. “Only if you show me how much you really like swallowing.”

“Deal.”

#reigen arataka #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #reigen arataka x reader #reigen arataka/reader #reigen/reader #reigen x reader #reigen arataka/you #reigen arataka x you #self insert #reigen smut #mdni #reigen arataka / yn #reigen arataka x y/n #dimple #ekubo #reigen arataka/y/n #reigen aratakaxreader #sorry its late i am not well! but better late than never right

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kangnina · 20 days

Text

MDNI - Naïve!Jungwon 7

Your presentation with Jungwon goes perfectly despite all of the distractions. Namely, your compulsion to make Jungwon pounce on you every chance you could. The semester has finally ended so he’s no longer obligated to work with you. The more you think about it, you start to feel a little guilty for being such a nuisance to him. He just seemed to take it but never give it. At least not what you really wanted. He’s never fucked you. You’ve never even seen his dick. Aside from humping him, you’ve never really touched it. The realization makes you feel slighted. Does he not want me? Am I not good enough? Your thoughts are spiraling. Then it hits you. He IS a virgin. You’ve got one last shot at him before he goes home for the summer break.

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

“What are you doing here?” Jungwon eyes you suspiciously over the top of his glasses while holding his dorm room door open. To your surprise, his room is still completely set up. “I came to help you pack up for summer break. I’m going to miss you Jungwonie,” you say sweetly, walking into his room. He closes the door behind you and leans his back against it, watching you hop up on his bed. “Doesn’t look like you're going anywhere though,” you say looking around before letting your eyes land on him, comfortably dressed in his sweatpants. He rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek as he walks over to his desk. “No, I have an internship so I’ll be staying.” He sits down and begins typing on his laptop. “I know you’re a virgin,” you say, smiling. Jungwon ignores you. “Well, aren’t you?” You press him but he pretends to remain focused. You crawl to the edge of the bed and lay on your stomach with your high-heeled feet in the air. Your lips are just a few inches away from his ear. “Wonie, I promise I’ll fuck you gently,” you whisper. His ears turn a little red, from embarrassment or shyness, you assume– confirming your suspicions. Jungwon slams his laptop shut, making you flinch. He slowly turns his head to look at you, eyes dark with lust. “Noona, I promise I won’t,” he says standing up, his crotch in front of your face. You giggle nervously. Jungwon palms his erection over his sweatpants. “Turn over,” he hisses. You immediately roll onto your back and he pulls you closer to the edge, your head dangling back off the bed. He reaches over you, flipping up your skirt. “No panties. You’re so predictable,” he scoffs, smacking your clit and making you yelp. He chuckles, rubbing his fingers along your wet folds and you moan, spreading your legs wider. You reach your arms up to pull at his pants, freeing his heavy cock. He pauses. “Noona–” he says sternly but you cut off his protest. “If you fuck my mouth, it doesn’t count,” you say, stroking him. At this point, you really don’t care how desperate you sound, you just want him inside you one way or another. Jungwon watches you put his leaking tip in your mouth as he slides a finger inside of you. He lets out a low moan as you widen your lips. His cock is so thick, you’re not sure you can take more than half of it. Both of your hands stroke what doesn’t fit into your mouth. Jungwon pushes himself in a little deeper anyway. You don’t gag but your strained moans vibrate though his cock and into his balls. He knows he won’t last long if you keep that up. But he isn’t the least bit surprised you can handle it. Your slutty little banana trick when he first met you showed him exactly what he needed to know. He slowly starts to roll his hips, fucking into your mouth while using two fingers to work your pussy. Your neck is hurting and your jaw is sore as your head starts to spin. Jungwon presses the heel of his palm against your clit and tightly bends his fingers. You buck your hips. Muffled moans as drool runs down your cheeks. “Mmmm. Your mouth feels so good, Noona. Gonna cum soon,” he moans. "But ladies first," he sinks in a third finger into you and works his fingers faster. You clench, cumming so hard you feel like you just might pass out. “Fuck. That’s it pretty girl,” he coos, still rolling his hips. You feel his cock twitching as he shoots his load down your throat. “Swallow it.” He pulls back from you completely and watches you. You do as you’re told before turning over with a weak smile on your fucked out face. Jungwon slowly licks his fingers. “I’m not a virgin. I just really, really enjoy making you beg me to fuck you.”

Naïve!Jungwon 8

@heehoonist @moonlightndaydreams

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s4toryuu · 2 months

Text

guard dogs — geto suguru, gojo satoru

on the way through a dangerous street to meet your friend, suguru and satoru protect you from a couple monkeys

notes; protective besties, afab!reader, implied crush on suguru, reader is tinier than the boys, reader teases satosugu, based on true story

m.list

satoru and suguru are tall. suguru’s muscular body shows through the uniform sometimes and satoru’s white hair and sheer size collects stares like a curse.

you had just finished a solo assignment when it was time for you to meet your friend. she’d texted you the night before about a new cafe that opened in the middle of tokyo where your assignment was conveniently around the corner.

“where’s your boyfriend?” you tease satoru when he walks to you. he scoffs.

“he’s coming, don’t worry.” he checked his phone and suguru taps the top of your head from behind you. an easy thing to do seeing as you barely reached the middle of his bicep.

“yo.” he smiles. “where you going?”

“oh, that new cafe with my friend. I don’t think it’s that far.” you reply to him while fixing your hair.

“can we come?” satoru looks at you.

you answer quickly, “no.”

the last time the three of you went out, satoru ordered fourteen drinks which you guys ended up having to carry most of them all the way back to school because this white-haired idiot couldn’t finish them. and also he was “saving them for later.”

“oh, come on, please? it’s so early, I don’t wanna go back yet.” satoru pleads. he’s right, the sun blared high in the sky after a cold and cloudy spring week.

“go somewhere else!” you start looking around for the right direction.

“but we already tried everything here, right suguru?”

“yeah, he’s right.” suguru looks up at a sign.

“I’ll buy you your order!” satoru reaches out to you and you halt your steps. “yeah, that tempted you huh?”

you laugh. “fine. but don’t be weird to my friend.” satoru waves this off and lets out a lazy agreement.

“nice, satoru.” suguru whispers. you hear them.

there was an real reason you didn’t want to take the two to meet your friend. annoyingly, you admit the two are really fucking handsome. they get stares and get approached a lot, and you know your friend wasn’t immune to their charm. you almost fell victim back in your early years too.

you were more worried about satoru. he’s handsome and he knows it, so he’s cocky and doesn’t shut up. suguru’s humble nature makes people want him more, but it also makes them delusional. even worse, he was exactly your friend’s type. you wanted him for yourself.

the three of you start walking with you leading the way and your friends following side by side behind you. you ignore the stares from the entire city—you were used to it when you were with satoru and suguru. the harder issue was trying to ignore jealous energy directed at you.

you know the general area, but you look down at your phone to pull up the map. you turn a corner and feel a change in energy—desire and lust that were at the edge of becoming a curse.

you still feel the boys as they chatted behind you, which gave you the courage to look up. surely enough, there was a group of nine men sat and gathered around, and you look farther to see a suggestive sign for what you assume poses as a club. you’ve dealt with many terrifying things being a sorcerer, but dirty men gave you an innate fear you couldn’t just exorcise.

“wow, look at that.” one man says. the rest turn their heads and two stand up. you assume they haven’t seen satoru and suguru behind you yet. you hear suguru sigh in frustration.

“how old are you, girl?” one of them sitting down says, eyeing you down. he wore a red extremely faded graphic tee. “just got outta school? what school’s that uniform from?”

you freeze. you don’t know whether to respond, ignore, or turn around. it was a small street and there was no one else in earshot. a perfect place to coerce young women. you back up into satoru. suguru walks in front of you, his hands in his pocket. your view is now obstructed by the middle of his back. satoru doesn’t move behind you and bends sideways to watch whatever his best friend is about to do.

“are we gonna have an issue here?” suguru speaks in a voice you rarely hear. you hear anger bubble in it.

“ha! you gonna do something if there is?” the man scoffs. the men standing start walking toward you and the one in the red shirt stands up. you see a shift when he stands at his full height and still has to look up to suguru.

“yeah.” suguru deadpans. he puts his right hand out to his side to summon a curse but you grab his arm to stop him.

“no, don’t! that’s not allowed. just… kick his ass or something.” you whisper nervously.

“hey, girl, don’t you wanna make some money? it’s easy work for you, pretty.” the man starts again. “especially with those nice tits, yea?” he looks back to his group and some laugh.

satoru clicks his tongue. “tsk. gross! suguru, you gonna get rid of them now or what?”

suguru scoffs and summons a curse quickly. it was a pink creature and it reminded you of a cat mixed with a fox. “sorry y/n, but a curse will attract less attention than us beating them up.”

you bend sideways to get a look and to your surprise, the fox swirls around the man in the red shirt lovingly. the man looks confused and looks to his group. he starts hyperventilating and sweating, then the fox wraps its tail around his crotch and leg—like a zipline harness.

“what the fuck?!” the man yells. he starts screaming in agony as both your friends watch.

“oh wow, is this a new one?” satoru asks happily. suguru hums and the fox lets go.

the man screams in agony holding his groin, and two come to help him up. the rest of the group is confused, and some walk off. the curse switches targets and the man starts groaning.

“what the hell did you do?” the other asks.

“you wanna find out?” suguru almost growls. the group runs off, leaving the first victim on the floor swearing at the air and grabbing at his groin.

“hm. fucking monkeys.” sugu mumbles. “disgusting.” he dissipates the curse and the three of you walk past the man on the floor.

“jesus.” you mutter. “thanks.”

“you’re welcome!” satoru puts his arm around your shoulder and weighs you down.

“you didn’t do anything!” you fake-yell at him.

“yeahuh!” he protests. you shrug off his weight.

“whatever, let’s just go.” you walk ahead again, but this time your two friends split and walk by your side.

“does that happen a lot?” suguru asks you.

“nah.” you reply with a comforting tone, knowing suguru he would get worried. “plus, I’m always either with you two or shoko—no one messes with shoko—and you two are just scary.” the two chuckle.

you knew you were always safe with your two friends especially because they were the strongest. and for the record, satoru standing behind you gave you a sense of security.

suguru patted the top of your head. you think your heart stopped.

you hear amusement in his voice. “that’s good. we’re like your guard dogs.” he smiles.

[requests open]

m.list

#𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘶𝘶’𝘴 #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #satosugu #fanfic #x reader #geto fluff #gojo fluff #fluff

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lbxbx · 3 months

Text

Cockpit 6 | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood

Previous | Next

a/n: let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

taglist: @wecanpretendit |

You open up your eyes the next day, you didn’t get enough sleep but your phone just buzzed a notification, you click your tongue when you recall that you fell asleep before putting your phone on silent or do not disturb, you woke up with a mild hangover from last night’s poker game. You rub your eyes and immediately dig between your pillows to locate your phone.

You scrunch your eyes at the brightness when you unlock your phone, two notifications caught your attention, one being an email from the medical association, announcing that there’s a conference happening in Ilsan on Monday and you have to prepare a lecture for it. You’ve always attended those kinds of meetings but just as listener, but this year it’s your first time as a speaker since you managed to be one of the best in your department, the first notification made your day already, you’re proud of yourself.

But this email was sent a couple hours ago.

The second notification showing that someone texted you something two minutes ago and they unsent it, you click on the app and scroll through it, you even try googling how you can see who’s the sender, but you got zero results.

You scroll down and spot your chat with Namjoon, you click on it to see his last seen being a minute ago, but this doesn’t prove anything, it could be just a coincidence.

Although it isn’t.

Namjoon is dragging his carryon with him on his way to the terminal, he throws away his third empty cup of coffee before grabbing his phone, he’s been thinking about you the entire night, he wants to talk.

“how are you?”

“can we talk?”

It doesn’t even take a split second for him to unsend those messages, he can’t do it over text or over the phone, and he has to fly in less than an hour so he can’t really do anything until he lands in Seoul. He needs to see you face to face.

He swipes the app away and locks his phone when he arrives to the terminal.

“Shouldn’t the hospital pay for your ticket?” Jungkook asks out of breath, both of you are running on the treadmill, you’ve been working out together for some time now.

You and Jungkook met in the states in your first year in university, you both had majored in medicine, but he couldn’t keep up with the pressure, he went through so much that he just had to switch majors, he took the first plane back to Seoul and finished getting his degree to become a teaching assistant in Seoul’s university. You lost connection with him for a long time and you ran into him years after in a club and you became closer than ever.

“Yeah, they do, but I think I should take my car so I can move freely around there.” You shrug, he looks at you before squinting his eyes. “Honey it’s just one day, just go do your speech and fly back. Plus, the hospital is paying so you don’t have to spend anything.”

“It’s not about the money honey.” You mock his words, “It’s just that I don’t mind driving.”

“Don’t, really. Flying there is much safer.” He finally stops running when he finishes his miles. “You can’t drive there and back here on your own anyway, it’s not safe.”

You roll your eyes before turning off the treadmill, you grab your bottle of water and drink some to quench your thirst. “Whatever dumbass, you have to help me with my lecture.”

Both of you decided to shower at the gym and head out to Hoseok’s, they helped you choose a subject for your lecture and you finished it in a couple hours, it was a piece of cake with their help.

“Is it true what I heard?” Hoseok shuts his laptop and grabs a slice of pizza, you and Jungkook both turn to him in confusion. “What?” You ask.

“I heard some stuff from Seokjin hyung.” Hoseok takes a bite and wipes his mouth clean, you try and act oblivious but Jungkook is getting curious. “What?” He looks at you then back at Hoseok.

“Y/n hooked up with the guy she kissed at the club.” Hoseok shrugs. “It’s okay to talk about it since it’s over now, right?”

The younger looks at you with a shameless smirk on his face. “Nice.” He nods his head. You squint your eyes and elbow his chest. “Shut up.”

“So you totally agreed to hook up with a stranger but not with me.” He genuinely seems offended.

“Get over it Kook,” Hoseok huffs. “The guy is married.”

You study Hoseok’s face, is he pretending that he doesn’t know about the divorce? Or did he not really read his papers?

“You slept with a married man?” Jungkook exclaims a bit too loud that you rub your ear. “Okay first off, the neighbors don’t have to know, you don’t need to be loud.” He pouts.

You rub your forehead, you recall that night clearly when you tried to guess what’s his job, you literally had his hands in yours, there wasn’t a ring on it. “And in my defense, he didn’t tell me he’s married.”

“You should’ve asked.” Hoseok points and Jungkook agrees which makes your jaw drop. “Why would a married man flirt with a stranger? He’s the one who started talking to me.”

“Men don’t get enough-” Hoseok shrugs and gets interrupted by Jungkook. “No no, men never get enough.”

You knew all along that some men are pigs but now you somehow find this very unbelievable, and you’re positive that your friends might be pigs too, they’re men too after all.

“He has a child.” Your voice barely comes out, you’re in denial.

“So?” Jungkook asks as if having a wife and a son isn’t enough of a reason, you look at Hoseok, he’s just eating carelessly and totally not shaken by Jungkook’s question and the cringe on your face.

You close your eyes and shake your thoughts out of your head. “Okay, we need to stop talking about this, it was just a one time hook up and it won’t happen again, I don’t even know the guy.”

Monday came in a blink of an eye, surprisingly you weren’t that nervous, you got into a formal attire and filled your handbag with everything you could ever need, your flight is scheduled at 9 in the morning, you’ll be landing in Ilsan an hour later, and your flight back is scheduled to land in Seoul around 7 in the evening.

You grab your phone to find your friends active on the group chat wishing you good luck, you hover your fingers over the screen and respond to them with a smile on your face.

You take a cab to the airport and check in and head to your gate, you’re on your iPad re reading your lecture again while listening to music, you take a sip from your coffee and you spot a bunch of cabin crew and you scoff.

You didn’t realize how wrong Namjoon did you until now, everything seems to remind you of how bad things turned, and no matter how hard you convinced yourself that he’s just a stranger and you won’t have to see him again, you still grit on your teeth. You’ve always been smart and wit, your gut feeling was always right and you question yourself, why did you decide to ignore it this time, you have no idea.

Maybe something deep inside you actually had a thing for Namjoon, not a crush or something, but he just ticks everything on your list, and you find him quite close to your ideal type of men, but oh well, the man is married.

Well, he’s getting a divorce too. You think and you widen your eyes at your own thoughts before you burry your face in your palms.

Even if he was already divorced or whatever, that wasn’t your problem now. The man lied, and he’s a total red flag for you now, you didn’t have full trust in him to begin with, and now you can’t trust him at all.

Do men really not get enough? You recall what your friends said days ago, they can’t be totally right, you’ve seen healthy relationships before where each partner finds the other more than enough and they’re totally happy with each other.

You lift your face back up and you see the cabin crew again, you could clearly see what seemed to be the pilot flirting with one of the flight attendants, and goodness there’s a ring on his finger. Men.

Namjoon could’ve totally slept with so many women and convinced them that he’s single just like he did to you.

Speaking of which.

Namjoon is in the airport bathroom soaking himself with perfume before he heads to the terminal, he’s a few minutes behind the rest of the cabin crew.

The past few days were extremely hard on him, he’s been flying nonstop all over the republic just to distract himself from over thinking and just to waste time. He was going to try and contact you but he still isn’t brave enough to do so. He even drove to your place and stayed in his car for hours, hoping that you’d head out of the building any minute, but you were staying home the past few days.

He knew if he called or texted you wouldn’t answer, and he’s right.

The moment he walks to the terminal and boards the plane is when your face is in your palms because you’ve been having a debate with yourself earlier.

You didn’t see him, and neither did he.

“Where have you been?” His co pilot speaks as he enters the cockpit, Namjoon puts his carryon in the overhead bin before putting his phone down on his seat. “I was having a smoke.”

Boarding finally starts and you walk through the boarding bridge while carefully slipping your iPad in your bag making sure it won’t touch your heels, you chose to wear a pair of sneakers on your way there and change into your heels when you finally get there.

A queue is forming near the airplane door and you hear the flight attendants giggling with the passengers, you step a foot into the plane and one of the cabin crew welcomes you with the fakest wide smile ever. “Welcome aboard, may I see your boarding pass?”

“Thanks.” You hand her the ticket not bothering to mirror her smile, “I’ll take it from here.” A deep voice resonates that makes you lift your face up to see him.

Fucking Kim Namjoon.

Out of all the flights your hospital could’ve booked, they chose the one that Namjoon was flying.

Your eyes meet and it feels like you’ve seen him not long ago, you feel yourself getting charged with hate and anger again when you see him and you hardly control yourself to not snap at him and make a scene.

He snatches the ticket from the flight attendant and looks closely at it. “Come, I’ll walk you to your seat.” An immediate frown sits between your brows, you know he’s not authorized to walk you to your seat, and you can hear the other cabin crew whispering between each other.

You don’t have to take a long walk to your seat since the hospital booked you a business class ticket even when it’s just a one hour flight. Namjoon leads the way and you walk after him, he stops near your seat and points his head towards it. “Here you go.”

He didn’t leave you a good amount of space to enter your seat, so you stand super close to him before putting your bag down and take a your seat. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He bends down on his knees and leans his arm against the seat in front of you. ”How long are you staying in Ilsan?” And you immediately answer while trying to look careless, unlocking your phone and scrolling through it. “None of your business.”

“Y/N, please, we need to talk.” He begs with his voice barely whispering. “I’ll be waiting for you when we land-“

“Save it Namjoon, I’m going there for business and I don’t have the time.” You look at him, a sigh escapes his nose and he swallows when he looks at your lips for seconds, before looking back into your eyes. “I won’t waste your time, I’ll drive you wherever you wanna go. But please.” He begs again, his hand nearly falling on your leg but he stops himself and rests it on the back of your seat.

You scoff and shake your head, you look through the window for a second, then look back at him. “Look at you.” His eyes are locked onto yours. You continue. “Just so you know, there’s nothing you could say to explain yourself.”

“Namjoon, they need you in the cockpit.” A flight attendant nudges his shoulder, he nods without even looking up at her, then leans in closer. “Don’t get off the plane when we land, just stay here and we’ll leave together.”

You sigh in response and his hand finally lands on your knee for a quick touch of affirmation, he gets up and makes his way to the front of the plane, you eye him from head to toe, your eyes piercing through his big body, and he knows you’re watching.

You fasten your seat belt and lean your head back on the chair, you were hoping that you’d catch some sleep on the plane but you can’t.

You can easily predict what he wants to talk about, and you really used to fancy this man in general, but now he looks like a total different human being to you, and you can’t say you’re not disappointed.

You’re not going to over think this anymore, you’ve had enough, you’re gritting on your teeth again and your jaw tenses, you feel yourself about to get a headache. You’re seeking for closure.

The announcement bell rings and your eyes widen when you hear Namjoon’s voice radiate through the speaker. “Good morning and welcome aboard, this is your captain Kim Namjoon speaking.” You find yourself breathing heavily suddenly, you look all the way to the front of the plane, you can see the cockpit door still open, and you could see just the side of Namjoon’s body and the rest is blocked by the stupid giggling flight attendant.

“First I’d like to welcome you on Korean airlines flight number KA87 heading to Ilsan, we are currently third in line for takeoff. We are expected to be in the air in approximately 14 minutes, we’ll be up to a cruising altitude of 32 thousand feet, flight time will be one hour, if the seat belt sign is turned please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened.” You can see him shifting in his seat, before your phone buzzes a text, you grab your phone and see that he was the one who sent the text.

“I’m happy to see you :)”

Your stomach does this weird thing inside you that you haven’t felt before, your hand hovers over it and you try had to calm your breath but now your heart is fluttering.

“Please switch off your mobile phones, or turn on airplane mode for safety reasons.” He speaks through the speaker and you put your phone back into your bag with your jaw down. You cannot believe him.

“In about ten minutes after departure the cabin crew will be coming around to offer you a light snack and a beverage, until then, sit back, relax and enjoy your flight, thank you.” He closes the speaker and the back of your hand sits on your burning cheek, you’re totally confused on what’s happening to you.

You unbutton the first two buttons of your shirt and fan your face, if any of the flight attendants saw you they’d think you’re afraid of heights or you’re panicking but really, you’re not. You’re just.. Overwhelmed, if that’s the right word to use.

“Cabin crew please be seated for takeoff.” He speaks one last time before he moves the entire plane towards the runway.

Namjoon did his hardest to stay focused on the only thing he had to do, his mind was rushing with thoughts, each one interrupting the other, he has no idea how to start talking, hell he’s not even sure if you’re going to wait for him or not. He couldn’t fight the smile that’s slowly creeping on his face, it doesn’t go unnoticed by the copilot, he even smirks before asking Namjoon. “Is that your wife?”

The question robs the smile away from Namjoon’s face, and he finds himself cringing. “No.”

She could never live up to you, no offense to her. But she doesn’t put any effort in the way she looks, she never cared, in fact Namjoon doesn’t recall the last time he saw her styling her hair or putting on makeup. She’s unemployed since she’s taking care of Jay most of the time, but Namjoon opened a bank account for her so she can do whatever she wants or even buy something for herself. But she never did.

And you, gosh he doesn’t even know where to start. You’re just you.

The second you stepped foot on the plane and he saw you, he felt his stomach twist and his heart skipped a beat, he could feel a hint of tightness in his boxers as his body starts pumping blood everywhere. He really is happy to see you.

Meanwhile you’re in your seat less than an hour later as the flight attendants take their seats to prepare for landing, and you may seem biased when you admit that this was the smoothest landing ever. Namjoon must be really good.

People almost immediately rise from their seats to claim their luggage from the overhead bin, you grab your phone and turn off airplane mode, you’re welcomed to Ilsan with a few text messages from your mobile network, the moment you clear this notification you lift your face up to see the passengers beginning to exit the aircraft, and you spot Namjoon standing with the flight attendants and saying goodbye to the passengers one by one with a soft smile with his stupid dimple showing.

His eyes pierce to you between each passenger and he’s glad you actually stayed, he grabs his carryon from the bin above his head and puts it down on the floor before nodding to you.

You take it as a sign to get up and you do, throwing your bag over your shoulders and lowering your sunglasses down to cover your eyes, you walk towards him and you feel your body heat up the second he puts his hand on your lower back. “How was your flight?”

You look at him and roll your eyes at how cocky he’s getting and he lets out a soft laugh. “I’m just messing with you.” This motherfucker.

“What brings you to Ilsan?” He starts talking as you’re walking down the stairs of the plane, and you take a second to give him a blurry answer. “I’m here for work.”

“Work?” He asks as both of you make it inside the bus that’s driving you to the airport gate.

You look around the bus and it’s packed with people and there isn’t a single seat empty, you lean your back against the window near the door and you try finding a hand grip to hold onto, Namjoon leans both his palms behind you and nods. “Hold onto me, it’s okay.”

The smell of his cologne mixed with cigarettes wafts through your nose, you’re sandwiched between him and the window, and you’re surrounded by so many people that it’s physically impossible to push him. You look into his eyes to see him staring at your lips, your eyes wander lower to his neck to see his necklace.

It’s the necklace you saw on his neck the morning he left your place.

Your fingertips move towards his neck before you fish out the necklace from underneath the buttoned shirt. The look on your face makes his heart shatter, and even his heart melts when you breathed. “That’s your son.”

He looks down to your fingers and he touches the small necklace too, making both your fingertips touch, you feel his touch in a form of electric current and you lower your hand immediately. “That’s my son.” He whispers.

You study his face for a long second.

Despite the fact that he cheated and what he did was wrong on so many levels, he looks like he totally regrets it, and he seems like he genuinely wants to make things right with you. You’re ready to hear him out.

“Alright.” You sigh and he smiles softly, tugging softly on the loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

The bus starts moving and you immediately hold onto his wrist for support, his smile goes wider before he grabs your hand into his, intertwining his fingers between yours which settles this weird feeling down in the pit of your stomach. What in hell is going on?

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He takes a step closer to you, the smell of his cologne getting stronger and chest barely brushing against yours. You remind yourself that this man lied to you once and you can’t just let him off the hook this easy.

It’s a five minute ride to the airport and it felt like five hours to you, you’re getting worried at how your body is reacting around this man.

You finally get to the airport and finish all your paperwork, he fishes out a pair of car keys and leads you to the parking lot.

“You’re renting?” You question him while buckling up and he shakes his head. “It’s my sister’s car.”

“Ah yes, you’re from Ilsan.” You remember that he told you this before and he nods, you lean down to take off your sneakers and socks off, you switch to the pair of heels you have in your bag, you can feel his eyes on you so you turn to look at him. “What?”

“Where are we going?” He asks, you show him the exact location that the conference was held in and he nods and starts driving, he doesn’t even bother opening maps or anything, he knows every alley in Ilsan. “How long are you staying here?”

“Namjoon, you’re the one who’s supposed to be talking.” You sounded too mean and he starts feeling pressured, his breath becoming slowly irregular. “Fine, fine.”

You look at him while he’s driving, he’s forming small sweat pebbles on his forehead and his grip around the steering wheel gets tighter. “I’m sorry.”

You’re fed up with how hesitant and scared he seems. “Yeah, I know, and?”

“I uhm.. I should have.. told you since day one.” He clears his throat. “What I did was really wrong and unfair to you.”

Your hand sits on your chest when you exclaim. “To me? You’re married, you should feel sorry for your wife.”

A frown sits on his face and he feels his blood pressure elevating by the second, he gets really irritated at the mention of her. “No, y/n, you don’t know anything.” You frown. “Enlighten me.”

He rubs his face and his jaw tenses, he opens his mouth to start talking, but he shakes his head instead and looks through the window. “For fucks sake Namjoon.” Your voice starts getting louder, he slams the steering wheel and finally bursts. “I’m miserable, okay?” He’s louder than you are.

“I’m fucking miserable, I’m not happy, and I’m lonely.” His chest heaves up, he runs his fingers through his hair before continuing. “My life is a fucking nightmare, y/n.”

You feel your heart clenching when his voice starts getting shaky. “It’s killing me.”

This man lied to you once and you don’t feel like you can trust him again, for all you know, he could be lying to you again. You’re unsure if the reasons he listed earlier are valid enough for him to cheat on his wife.

“I feel like shit for doing you wrong.” He stops the car on the side of the road and looks at you. “You have the right to be mad at me, I know I’m a terrible person.”

And right off the top of your head you ask him. “Is she not good to you?” Your voice comes out in a form of a whisper. He scoffs and shakes his head before looking down. “I’ve known her for years, but she still feels like a stranger..:”

You lose it when you see tears forming in his eyes. “We painted this fake image of us holding hands in front of people and smiling just so they think that we’re happy, but we’re not even an inch close to happy. I tried so hard to compromise but I got nothing in return, it was always me who has to work hard for this marriage and I got nothing. I thought that life just goes on and maybe that’s what all married couple are like, but no. I’ve made so many wrong decisions in my life but she was the worst ever.” His tears finally roll down on his cheek and he just sobs, gravity does its job and his tears fall onto his lap.

You’ve never seen a man this weak and vulnerable, you feel your heart squeezing at his state, he looked so firm and happy on the outside, he looked stable, but he was able to conceal it all very well, that must’ve drained him through those years.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and sit on your knees, you grab his head into your hands and brush his tears with your thumb softly before hugging him closer to you, he wraps his arms around you and speaks. “Imagine being silenced for years.” He pulls back, leaning his forehead against yours. “I’ve been through this nightmare for three fucking years and I couldn’t say a word to anyone about how fucking miserable I am.”

“Shh. It’s okay.” You whisper, cupping his jaw in your hands and tracing it with your thumb, you brush your nose against his and close your eyes. “I’m here.”

He grips onto your top with his fist and pulls back, “What?”

You feel the need to help him escape this, the man is clearly going through severe depression and he’s emotionally deprived from any act of affection or love. It’s not like you’re offering to love him, but you need to help him get back on his feet.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” You smile softly at him and offer him your hand, he locks his eyes into yours and grabs your hand pulling it closer to his face, he leans his head onto it and kisses it softly.

“Thank you.” He whispers while mirroring your smile. You giggle and adjust your seat. “We have to get back on the road Namjoon.”

He nods and turns the car back on before hitting the road again, you felt the need to explain to him the reason you’re in Ilsan and he ends up offering to attend the conference with you, actually no, he insisted on attending.

He parks in front of the building and both of you exit the car, he opens his carry on and manages to change just his top before entering the main hall.

“Miss y/l/n.” The head of the medical association approaches you while reaching his hand out to you, you shake his hand firmly and smile. “Lovely to see you Mr. Baek.”

“I’m so glad you got to be a speaker this year.” He smiles back, his eyes spotting Namjoon behind you, you pull back and put your hand behind Namjoon’s back, pushing him closer to you. “Let me introduce you, this is my friend Namjoon.”

“Nice to meet you.” Namjoon shakes his hand firmly before the old man speaks to you. “It’s lovely for you to have support, we’re all so proud of you.”

“Thank you.” You smile before hooking your arm around Namjoon’s. “Pardon us.”

Even when you just introduced Namjoon as your friend, he’s not used to being touched like that in public because he was never touched like that in the first place.

Speaking in front of a huge crowd was never a big deal for you, your lecture was interesting to begin with and your powerful personality made a strong presence on stage, you almost forgot that Namjoon was between the crowd watching you with his jaw slightly open.

The second you stepped on that stage he felt… Euphoric.

He listens to every single word that comes out of your lips attentively even when you’re using complicated medical terms, he scans your body language and your hand movements and he swears he hasn’t been this impressed by a woman before.

He’s proud of you.

You’re the woman he’s always imagined having in his dreams, he was quite the ambitious person himself and he had so many goals he wanted to achieve but his personal life always stood in the way.

He finds himself charged when he’s around you and not only sexually, he’s suddenly in a better mood and his brain and body function better, he finds himself way less anxious than when he’s around his family, although he should feel this way around his son too, but your aura is totally different.

His heart skips a beat again when your eyes meet in the middle of your lecture and you smile softly at him as if he’s the one who needs support. He finds your smile contagious and he gives you one back with a soft nod, he’s really proud of you.

You finally end your lecture and they applaud you, you know you did great. You bow your head and get off the stage to be welcomed by a few colleagues who shake your hand and make small talk with you about how good your lecture and where your sources were from, they even ask you a couple questions about your topic.

You got offered two jobs on the spot in two different hospitals around the republic but you were kind enough to refuse, the hospital you currently worked at is the hospital that helped you get where you currently are.

You thank them and make your way back to your chair, Namjoon gets up on his feet and grabs your hand into his. “You were great.”

“I know, thank you.” You grin when he pulls you closer for a soft kiss on your cheek, he pulls your chair back for you to sit next to him, and both of you sit back to listen for the rest of the conference.

It’s a couple hours later, Namjoon is driving you back to the airport while you’re on your phone texting your friends on your group chat, they had planned a dinner to celebrate you tonight, so Taehyung was supposed to pick you up from the airport since he already lives close to it.

“Can’t you please stay for tonight?” He manages to turn his head towards you for a split second while he’s driving, you lock your phone and put it down before you speak. “I’m supposed to meet my friends for dinner and I’m on call tomorrow morning.”

His shoulders sulk in disappointment and a sigh escapes his nose, his eyes are now focused on the road and it’s clearly showing that he wants to be around you more, which kicks your ego up to the top.

At the same time he doesn’t argue and he doesn’t insist, he just wants to give you your own space so he won’t pressure you, you chuckle before running your fingers to the back of his head, scratching his scalp with your nails. “You know I can see you back in Seoul.”

You know your hand drives him crazy and you could care less If you crash, you want to leave him edged and thirsty for more and you like it. His eyelids starts to feel heavy and he fights it so hard to stay focused on the road. “It’s just that..” He breathes, your fingers move down to scratch his neck, he swallows before he proceeds. “.. I wanted us to be alone and away together.”

You take a long breath before you retrieve your hand back onto your lap, you’re not going to give him what he wanted immediately. You did offer your help but you didn’t forget about the terrible lie he played on you. So he deserves to be denied for the mean time. “If that’s your way of inviting me to bed than save it.” You smirk. He lets out a quiet laugh and stretches his hand to sit on your inner thigh, his fingers squeezing your covered flesh softly and stroking it, “Fine, I deserve to be punished after all.” He bites on his lip.

“Good boy. I’m glad you’re aware of that.” You managed to play the role of the tough cookie but you can’t deny that his touch is doing wonders to you, the warmth of his hand against your covered skin and his soft strokes gives you flashbacks of that night you spent together, and the other nights where you made him cum just by hearing your voice.

You finally get to the airport and he turns off the car in the parking lot, he looks at you while unbuckling his belt. “Are you sure you don’t have the time?”

“The gate is already open Namjoon.” You look at the time on your wrist, you unbuckle your seat belt and fish out your documents from the bag. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“I’ll see you back in Seoul?” He coaxed, you giggle and take your time to answer with a slow nod. “I’ll see you back in Seoul.”

He leans in and you think he’s going to kiss you on the cheek, but he moves further down to brush the tip of his nose against the pulse of your neck, he takes a long inhale through his nose, collecting whatever he can of your smell which arouses him, he closes his eyes and whispers. “I can’t say it enough, but I’m truly sorry.”

You clear your throat before you move your hand up to his jaw and caress it with your thumb. “I know you are.”

He keeps his face buried in your neck for a couple seconds before he pulls back and locks his eyes with yours, you see the face you saw earlier this morning, apologetic and full with regret.

“I have to go.” Your faces are extremely close that he feels your hot breath hit his glistening lips, he nods and fully pulls back to collect his phone and keys. “Come on, let me walk you inside.”

“I don’t know if we say this enough y/n, but we’re totally proud of you. We’re always there for you and we’ve got your back, we truly love you.” Taehyung lifts his glass of champagne up on the air before all you clink your glasses together. “To y/n.”

You sip some of your drink and put it down before Yoongi starts. “So how was your trip?”

“It was quite chill, it’s my first time on a business class, other than that everything went great, I also got a few job offers.” You slowly nod your head. Yoongi sips more of his drink and lifts up an eyebrow. “I heard some stuff from Jungkook.”

You snap your head towards the youngest who’s totally avoiding eye contact with you, his face flushing at the sudden mention of his name.

After all, what were you expecting? Seokjin told Hoseok, and Hoseok spoke in front of Jungkook, and now Yoongi is discussing this around the table where not only your friends are sitting, but also a couple of their partners.

And by the looks of it, his wife already know since she’s studying your face and waiting for confirmation.

Do they just go around talking to each other about you? Your hookup with Namjoon will haunt you for the rest of your life.

“Yeah it’s true.” You spit out, “Namjoon’s married?” Jimin asks and your eyes almost fall out from their sockets, as far as you remember, he knows you hooked up with someone, but not with Namjoon specifically.

“He’s married?” Taehyung dramatically drops his fork which makes you roll your eyes. “I actually saw him in Ilsan.”

Your statement was followed by a complete silence around the table, you feel everyone’s eyes on you as they’re waiting for you to elaborate, you clear your throat and open your mouth. “Relax, we didn’t go together, he was flying that plane.”

You realize that they still don’t know what he does when they look at you like you said something in a foreign language that they don’t understand. Hoseok turns his body fully towards you. “Flying the plane? Like fly fly?” He blinks repeatedly.

“He’s an aircraft pilot.” You take a sip from your champagne and you clearly see Mia and Jade, Taehyung’s girlfriend, swoon over the man, you nod with a smirk. “I know right?”

“And did you talk?” Seokjin hesitates, leaning his elbows on the table and closer towards you so he can hear you better. You nod. “Mhm. He apologized and I guess we’re okay now.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to see him again.” Taehyung whines. “You can’t be the mistress.”

Taehyung’s words woke some sense in you and you actually admit that you cannot be the mistress. You scold yourself because you shouldn’t have let him off the hook that easily and offer him closeness immediately.

You jump in your seat when your phone buzzes and speaking of the devil, it’s him.

“Call me when you’re home.”

“I miss hearing ur voice.”

A knot sits between your eyebrows and you actually leave him on read. You are not going to reply to him and that’s it. You lock your phone and put it back in your purse. “I’m not going to be the mistress.” You firmly say, and you cross your arms above your chest.

It’s later in the night, you had already finished your dinner with your friends that night and headed back home, you showered and put on a face mask, and went to bed really early since you’re on call in the morning.

A little past midnight, your phone vibrates repeatedly and you think it’s work because they usually call for consult during the night when you’re at home. But it’s Namjoon again.

“can I call you?”

“I’m at the hotel room”

“I’m flying back to seoul in the morning”

“I’m so glad I got to see you today”

Your fingers hover above the screen and you purse your lips, debating whether you should answer or not, but again Taehyung’s words echo in your head, which makes you quickly turn off the wifi when you see him typing, you lock your phone and put it on your nightstand.

Oh so you’re going to ghost him now?

You don’t hesitate for a second, you fall back asleep in a snap of a finger.

Meanwhile, Namjoon is freshly out of the shower, his hair dropping small pebbles of water on his neck and back, his phone is in his hand and he’s getting concerned of the fact that you’re not replying to his texts.

He actually saw it coming, and he knows you’re not going to reply to his texts or ghost him for some time, of course he’s not going to pressure you to answer, so he just puts his phone down and lies down flat on his bed. He knows he deserves the punishment.

He’s in Ilsan but he doesn’t always stay at his parents. Since he’s there partially for work, the aviation he works at provides him a room at the airport hotel, so he just stays there before he flies back to the capital.

To say you wake up cranky the next day is an understatement, your period started today and your tummy and back are killing you, and your headache is getting stronger by the second.

Hoseok who decided on picking you up to and from work today has been blabbering since you stepped foot in the car and you’re waiting for him to stop talking.

“Men actually love it when women are mean with them, don’t over think stuff with that man, I remember once I hooked up with a girl and I was planning on not calling her the next day, she wasn’t that special and she wasn’t really worth the shot, but I swear the minute she started being mean with me I liked her a lot better.” He even laughs and your face falls inside your palm, you could beg him to shut up.

“When she started being nice to me I got the ick and totally blocker her number, it’s just how the world works you know, and I’m not-“

“Hobi please.” You snap. “Shh.”

And the man sulks with a pout on his face, you’re not even sorry, you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today and your body isn’t giving you a break. You could’ve called for a day off but no one wanted to switch shifts with you.

The moment you step foot into the department, the nurses actually give you a few meds to help you go through your shift, it was hectic that day.

You grab your phone a few hours later and finally turn back on the wifi, Namjoon sent one text early in the morning, which is probably right before he headed to work.

“i hope ur okay, take care.”

Your fingers hover over the screen and you decide on messaging him back even when you don’t want to.

“fly safe J”

Your heart beats faster when he reads the message seconds later, you’re about to lock your phone but he’s calling you, and you can’t just ignore his call when you just texted him.

You wait a couple seconds later and finally answer him. “Kim Namjoon.”

He lets out a low grunt before laughing, you can’t see him, but he’s in bed stretching, he’s sleeping on his right side with his phone under his ear, his eyes immediately shut close when he hears his name. “Good morning.” His voice deep and sleepy, also low so he cannot be heard.

Fuck, he’s not helping you keeping your hands to yourself when he does that.

“Did you miss your flight or what?” You grab your white coat and make your way out of the emergency department to take your call. He breathes into his phone and speaks. “No, my flight was early in the morning, I’m in Seoul now.”

You can’t help but ask, even when you really know that it’s inappropriate and really none of your business, you even stutter. “Is she there?” And it comes out as a whisper. You’re really asking him about his wife.

It takes him a few seconds to process the question, uncertain whether he should actually answer the truth or not. Because she’s home and in the next room, if he was an octave louder he would be heard.

Although he did promise himself that he won’t lie to you, so he answers. “Yes.”

Your heart clenches and no matter how hard you think you’re going to accept it, it’s just really hard to digest.

You clear your throat and bite on your nails, and as if he can see you, he laughs quietly and whispers back. “I wanted to say this to you face to face, but you have to know, whether you showed up in my life or not, I would’ve gotten the divorce any way, so don’t worry.”

Namjoon never knew what it felt like to be taken care of or shown love, and neither did you, you’ve never been in an exclusive relationship with anyone before. Of course you’re loved by your family and friends, but someone actually offering you affection and care who is neither a family nor a friend feels weirdly good.

It’s like the missing piece in your life that you just realized you needed.

But still it feels concerning when Namjoon talks about you like that, and you actually spit it out to seek for an answer so you won’t have to overthink it. “Come on Joon, it was just a one time hookup, why are you talking like it’s more than that.” You even fake a laugh to make it sound nicer than you truly mean.

And he just blurts it out. “Because it is more than just a hook up,” And he can sense that your tension over the phone is increasing, you realize you’ve been holding your breath for a second before he speaks with an audible smirk on his lips. “Come on y/n, we both know it’s more than just a hook up.”

It slightly irritates you at how smug he sounds, you scoff before speaking. “Wow you surely sound confidant about that. I hate to break it to you, but really, it’s not true.”

“Okay.” He’s totally not convinced, you hear him muffling under the blanket in his bed. “I’ve been thinking about you the entire night.”

Now it’s your turn to make his life a little harder. “And did you make yourself cum?” He takes a long breath before he hums. “I made myself cum when I imagined the way I wanted to please you, y/n.”

You’re ashamed at the way your body reacts, even when you’re on your period, your body acts upon his words and your face flushes, you press your thighs together to ease the increasing heat between your legs.

What he just said suddenly filled a certain void inside you that you never knew existed, you’ve always wanted a man seek after your own pleasure.

Even when you absolutely enjoy the dirty talk, and even when it makes your cunt tingle, you still manage to ask him. “Hm, so I guess you called just to ease your morning wood?”

You doubt the fact that this man thinks before he talks, he sounds so convincing and genuine when he replies so fast. “Just so you know, I don’t just see you in that way.”

Of course you’re going to doubt that, but he’s is in fact serious, he does think you’re insanely attractive and really good in bed that it makes him sometimes wonder how you’re still single, but on the other hand, he finds your job and your lifestyle very interesting and attractive, it’s been a month since you guys first met at the club, he thinks he knows enough to really fancy you, but when he attended your lecture and saw how successful you are at what you do, it made him see a totally different version of you.

“Whatever Namjoon, I need to hang up.” You sit up from the bench, he doesn’t hesitate when he asks. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

You actually have nothing planned for tonight, but you know you’re going to be kicked in the ass from your current shift and you’re also on your period. “Maybe.”

You can hear him stretching, he lets out a low grunt before he speaks again “I feel the need to take you somewhere, that’s if you don’t mind of course.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Somwhere?”

“I know a wine tasting tour held today, it’s on the outskirts though and there’s a huge farm there and it’s the harvest season, so we can actually go and check out the entire process, If you want to of course.” He seems excited when he’s speaking, still making sure he isn’t heard by the other two living under his roof.

You’re intrigued, your mind wants to say yes so badly, but your body is barely holding on for work. “I can’t today, I’m not feeling well.”

He shifts in his bed before he sits up. “Oh no, are you okay?” His voice coming out so soft and sweet, you try to stifle a grin but you can’t, and he actually hears it through the phone when you speak. “Oh my back hurts, that’s all.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

Screw you Kim Taehyung for saying those words, they still echo in your head and for a split second you shrug it off, fuck it, your body is aching for Namjoon and you’re a little ashamed to admit it.

“Yeah, I mean-“ You bite hard on your poor lower lip before you realize that even if he showed up, there’s nothing to do when it’s your time of the month. “Sure, come over.”

Namjoon finally leaves his room after he finished his call with you, Jay was crying his lungs out and he was on the floor throwing a tantrum, and his wife is nowhere to be seen.

“Daddy.” Jay stretches his arms up when he sees his father which makes Namjoon’s heart melt, he kneels down and holds his son closer to his chest, rubbing the back of his head softly. “Daddy’s here, what’s the matter?” He kisses his forehead softly. “Why are you crying?”

“Mommy won’t give me my ice cream.” He cries even louder and his father barely understands a word. Finally she gets out of the kitchen and starts picking up the little toys from the floor, “Jay how many times did I tell you, crying will not get you the ice cream.”

And the little toddler’s crying is loud and he starts kicking his legs, Namjoon holds him closer and smothers his tiny faces with kisses. “Shh, it’s okay.”

He turns to shoot a glare at the demon picking up the toys, he actually feels nauseated when she’s around, and ever since he met you, he just can’t look at her, so he forces himself at the second. “Why won’t you give him his ice cream?”

Jay is Namjoon’s only point of weakness, he cannot stand seeing him want something or crave something without getting him whatever he wants, he’d give him the world if he asked and he’s willing to sacrifice anything for him, that all makes Jay adore his daddy.

“He didn’t finish his bowl of cereal and he even spilled it.” She throws the bag of toys down in the corner of the room, “No ice cream and no toys for the whole day.”

“He’s a baby, playing is all he’s got to do, you can’t just punish him like that.” Namjoon sternly speaks before standing up, still carrying his child.

“But daddy, I was too full and I said sorry.” Jay hugs his daddy tighter while wiping his own tears, “No you’re not going to get anything before you have your breakfast.” She approaches the little one and grabs him, Jay cries loud again and holds onto his father for dear life.

It aches Namjoon’s heart when he sees his child like that, he turns away and uses his palm to gently stop his wife from approaching them again. “Let me deal with this, he’s my child too.” He frowns before he goes to Jay’s bedroom and puts him down on his bed, he kneels down and cups his cheeks. “It’s okay baby, mommy wasn’t wrong, you can’t have your ice cream before breakfast,”

“But the bowl was too big, I’m full.” Jay rubs his eyes, his crying finally coming to an end, but the child is still sad. “Hmm, don’t you wanna be tall and big like daddy?” Namjoon pokes his son’s nose softly, “It’s okay you don’t have to finish your breakfast today, but I’ll tell you a secret,” He even whispers and inches closer to his son, a smile already starting to creep on Jay’s face when he’s enjoying the tiniest interaction with his father.

“We’ll go get you ice cream, but we cannot tell mommy, she’s not invited to our ice cream party.” And Jay looks at his father and it breaks Namjoon’s heart to see his son broken and crying over some stupid ice cream.

“Who were you talking to earlier?” She asks and gain’s his attention, she standing near the door frame with her arms crossed over her chest, he looks at her and wonders for a second when was the last time this woman showered?

He turns to his son’s closet and picks out a pair of sneakers. “Let’s get you dressed.”

“Who were you talking to?” Her voice gets louder and Namjoon doesn’t even flinch, he’s used to her being crazy and asking useless questions, he gets back on his knees and helps his son with his shoes. “Why do you care?” He asks, not looking back at her again.

“Just so you know, your son has been crying the entire morning asking for you, and he didn’t finish eat breakfast because you were too busy being on your phone.” She’s blabbering and even her son ignores her and asks his father. “Can I bring mister broccoli with me?”

Mister broccoli was a stuffed toy that Namjoon got as a gift for Jay when he took his first flight ever with his father, the little one is extremely attached to this toy specifically and he wouldn’t let any of his cousins touch it.

Namjoon nods eagrly. “Go get him.”

Jay runs back to the living room and Namjoon rolls his eyes before he looks at his wife one last time. “I would appreciate it if you try and not pick an argument in front of him.” He cannot stand this woman.

She scoffs, “At least try and be a good father, try and be there for your son. He cried all night.”

Namjoon hates being called a bad parent, he isn’t. He finds himself gritting on his teeth and his heartbeat pounds faster in his chest. “Oh trust me, I’m a better parent than you are.”

Jay’s presence back in the room that eases Namjoon down immediately, even though he guaranteed divorce, but still he has to contain himself in front of his son, last week’s incident was a tough lesson for him.

“Daddy can I put mister broccoli in the back seat with me? I also want him to wear the seat belt.” Jay’s playful tone makes Namjoon mouth twitch in a smile, he nods and prints small soft kisses all over his son’s face. “I’ll let you put the seat belt for him, deal?”

Namjoon’s been flying nonstop and he’s very tired and he needs to catch some sleep to make it up for the nights he stayed up at work, he’s very exhausted but he can never say no to his son.

He grabs Jay’s tiny hands and leaves the place, leaving the woman behind him fuming. They get down to the car and Namjoon even gives Jay the key to unlock the car, and the little one is staring at his father with heart eyes, he always tried his best to give him anything he wishes for.

Namjoon opens the back door and puts mister broccoli next to the car seat, he teaches his son how to buckle the seat belt and Jay ends up doing it on his own, Namjoon gets this cute aggression around his son that he grabs his face tightly and sucks his cheek into a kiss. He can do it forever.

He finally helps Jay get into his car seat and buckles him up, before they head to their ice cream date.

Your shift is finally over by the afternoon, you hand over everything to the team on the next shift and you call a cab home, you were near breaking down and balling your eyes out, nothing major really, you’re just hormonal and tired.

Hoseok was supposed to drive you back home but you instantly regret it when he calls you from the court and says that he needs an hour to be there because something was scheduled urgently today.

You get home and take your clothes off, instant relief when you ditch the fabric off of your skin on a hot summery day, you change into your pajamas and head to the kitchen to turn on the kettle for tea, you don’t usually get that big of an appetite when you’re on your period so food is the last thing you consider making, your doorbell rings and you head to check the cameras, it’s the man you told to come over, the man you’ve been waiting for.

You unlock the door and a warm breeze of air immediately wafts through the entrance carrying the smell of his musky perfume, “Hey, Come in.” You tilt your head inviting him to come on in inside, and the second he steps foot inside your house he inhales, the smell feels nostalgic to him even when he’s been here only once.

Your place has this distinctive smell, it smells clean and fresh, a hint of fruitiness to it, your diffuser is always on so it always smells good, and Namjoon has picked up the hint of the floral scent you spray your furniture with, and also picked up your smell. Your odor is engraved into his head and he can smell it even when it’s layers away or even miles away, he finds it arousing.

He enters the house and hands you a small grocery bag that’s been sitting in his hands. “Are you okay? You look tired.” He steps closer to you and tugs your hair behind your ear.

“I’m fine, what’s that?” You open the bag to check out what’s inside, your heart melts when you see that he actually put in the effort to buy you pain killers, a heating pad and chocolates, even when you already have every item in your household. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” A genuine smile creeps on your face and he smiles back at you before pinching your cheek softly, you inch closer to him and give him a soft peck on his dimple that leaves him blushing, but hardly noticeable though.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He takes off his shoes and you see him walking inside, again even when he’s been here once, he knows this place like the back of his hand, you know that he’s comfortable around you even when the two of you haven’t known each other for long, he feels familiar and he feels close.

You walk into your bedroom and he follows you, he takes a quick scan at your room and he can tell that you’ve been in bed and you’re planning to spend the rest of your day in bed even when he’s here, nothing sexual planned at all though.

“Do you want me to help you with the heating pad?” He’s standing so close behind you that you feel his breath his your neck, you swallow and exhale with a shiver running through your spine, you nod softly and fish out the heating pad from the bag, “On my back please.”

“Okay.” He softly speaks before going down on both of his knees, you grab your top and pull it up for him to have better access, and he opens the wrapper and takes the pad out, he prints the softest kiss on your lower back right by the end of your tatted spine before he sticks the pad onto it and pulls your top back down. “There you go.”

You could swear he kissed your pain away, or it’s probably the endorphin rushing through your entire body when you saw him at your doorstep.

“Make yourself at home, I need to make tea first.” You’re about to turn but his hands sit on your hips, putting a soft amount of pressure, he presses his lips against your shoulder for a little kiss and whispers. “It’s okay, get in bed, I’ll make you tea.” He even kisses the same spot again before heading to the kitchen.

What is he doing to you?

You get to take a quick glance of his back when he’s leaving the room and you feel your face heat up, your hand sits on your cheek and you try to ease your quickening breath, you never felt this way towards anyone and it feels different, your stomach is pinching you and you’re unsure if it’s the cramps or what?

You’re worried for a second, you don’t know if he’s doing this because he wants to, or because he’s trying to get you into bed again? You know he’s in a miserable marriage so he might just do everything because there’s a benefit for him.

You make your way to your bed and you hear his footsteps coming closer and your heart races again at his aura, he enters the room with a cup of tea in one hand, and the box of pain killers in the other one, he approaches your side of the bed and rests the cup onto the nightstand before handing you a pill from the box, you look at him in the face and you tilt your head, his eyes lift up and lock into yours.

For a long moment both of you are studying each other.

You were never able to find out people’s intentions right away, you are very smart and really wit, you sometimes make assumptions that turn out to be true just out of coincidence. But Kim Namjoon was too difficult to read, well at least to you.

Or maybe he is easy to read, but after you found out that he masked his misery and his years long marriage, it became difficult for you to really find out what were his intentions. You appreciate what he’s trying to do, but you don’t know why he’s doing it.

You actually consider introducing him to your friends just because they know how men think and what are their real intentions, Taehyung can easily judge people and he was never wrong.

As for him.

His eyes travel between yours, then move down to your nose and lips, up to the loose strand of your hair that’s tickling your jaw, he feels drawn to you in ways he cannot explain, and if he wants to reflect on the overall situation, he easily admits that he changed after he met you, you changed him, he’s a better version of himself when he’s around you, he’s looking at you and memorizing every single detail on your face, you’re not like her, you’re not like any of them women.

Actually it’s way easier than you think, Namjoon was too easy to read, if you just stop the over thinking for a second and see the way he stares at you, you could easily tell that the man is developing something for you, let’s just call it a crush for the mean time, you don’t know the effect you have on this man.

“Thank you.” You grab the pill into your mouth and chase it with water before pulling the blanket over your body, he stands up and takes his shirt off, after all, it was really warm that day.

And goodness you forgot how big this man is, you immediately look away because you know your body gets way too excited at the thought of Namjoon naked. And you also hate to admit it, but your sex drive is usually on fire on your first day of your period.

“You can sleep if you want to, I’m here if you needed anything.” He walks to the other side of the bed and lies down next to you.

You simply nod, maybe he was right when he told you this morning that this is more than just a hookup.

Minutes later, you close your eyes but you’re not asleep, he probably thinks you are, but you can’t, you open one eye and look at him, he’s lying on his back with one arm behind his head and his phone in the other hand, he’s reading something, clearly a book. His eyelids feel heavy and he puts down the phone on the night stand next to him before he adjusts in bed and falls asleep while hugging a pillow.

And suddenly you feel this flood of emotions wash through your entire body, and you feel bad for the man, a smart good looking sensitive man whose desperate to feel loved and touched after all these years, he’s practically a virgin even when he isn’t.

You huff and hide your face under the blanket, you cannot believe that you actually validate his reasons and give him the right to cheat, you even start thinking that him cheating should be worth it.

He’s a human being with feelings, and you feel like you can offer him some of his needs.

You crawl closer and pull the blanket over his body, you even grab the pillow away from him and hold onto his wrist to and put it around your waist, he’s not in deep sleep yet, so he opens his eyes for a second and processes the fact that you’re going to sleep in his arms, he tightens the grip around and pulls you even closer to him whilst whispering in your ear. “Do you want me to get you anything? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” You bury your face into his neck and both of you fall asleep in a click of a button.

It’s almost like both of you felt safe enough to go into deep sleep when you’re around each other.

You don’t know yet, or maybe you do but won’t admit, but you’re developing something for him too.

259 notes · View notes

ssturniolo · 9 months

Note

hii could u do a chris or matt angst? like a realllyyyy sad angst but then the fluffiest cuff ending ever?? thank uuu and i love ur work sm <33

Fixed

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Matt x fem!reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - After Matt realizes why you’ve locked yourself away from him, he shows up at your apartment, attempting to fix things.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - sad angst, hints of depression, comment on body, kissing, sorry if I missed any <3

Curled up on your couch, in the same clothes you’ve been wearing for a couple of days, you scroll through comments on the last car video the triplets filmed. The one you were in.

[matt doesn’t look at her the same anymore]

[I think Matt’s falling out of love with her]

[no offense, but matt and y/n’s relationship kinda looks one-sided]

[anyone else noticed that y/n put on a few pounds? No hate but maybe that’s why Matt isn’t into her anymore…]

Squeezing your eyes shut, you power your phone down, knowing if you don’t, you’ll continue doing this for the next few hours. It’s been like this for days, locking yourself up in your apartment, only to spend hours looking through TikTok and YouTube comments mentioning you and Matt.

You and Matt had been dating for 8 months now, and you were so afraid to lose him, you cut him off completely. Ignoring his texts and calls, pleading you to answer your phone, you felt as though you were digging yourself deeper into a hole, and couldn’t seem to climb out.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve eaten, nevertheless showered. Simple tasks seemed like the end of the world, and you could never seem to shut your head off. Although you’ve never been good at communicating your feelings, Matt always knew what was going on, and comforted you without pushing your boundaries. But this time, he couldn’t seem to figure it out.

Laying on his bed, mindlessly scrolling through instagram, Matt is interrupted by Chris barging through the door. Shoving his phone in Matt’s face, Chris let’s out an angry huff.

“Look at all of these comments about y/n on here man” Chris let’s out, frowning at his brother. Matt grabs Chris’s phone out of his hands, scrolling through the awful comments about you.

“There’s more on TikTok, I hope she hasn’t seen them” Chris says, running a hand through his hair. And then it clicks. Matt stands up, reaching to grab the car keys off of his bedside table. He can’t believe he missed it, ever since those videos were posted, you had been locked up in your apartment, completely blocking him off.

“Where are you going?” Chris asks, confused at Matt’s sudden urge to leave the house.

“To fix things”

Hearing a knock at your door, you stand up, dropping the blanket that’s been wrapped around you for longer than you can remember. Stumbling over, you peek your head out the door, only to find Matt staring back at you.

Hesitantly, you opened the door fully, waving Matt in. Now standing there in front of him, you felt so small, so unimportant, those comments were probably rig-. Matt grabs your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. He leads you to the couch, pulling you down next to him.

Avoiding his eyes, you play with the strings of your hoodie, afraid that if you look at him, it’s all gonna be over.

Matt surveys you. Noticing the dark circles under your eyes, the way your shoulders slump, the paleness of your skin. Tears sting behind his eyes as he cups your cheek lifting your head to meet his gaze.

Leaning into his touch, you let out a shaky breath. “You don’t love me anymore, do you” you whisper, watching as his eyes brim with tears.

“Of course I still love you, nothings ever going to change that” he says, tears now trickling down his face.

“B-but the comments, the edits, the everythi-” your cut off by him smashing his lips into yours, pulling you as close as possible, quickly filling the gap in between you two. Tilting your head to deepen the kiss, you let out all of your pent up emotions without needing to speak.

Pulling away to catch his breath, Matt presses his forehead to yours. “You can’t pay attention to any of those comments y/n. Those are just a bunch of jealous fans who want to tear you apart. I WANT you, I NEED you in my life, I’m not sure what I’d do without you” he lets out, wiping away stray tears from your cheeks.

Pulling away to look into his eyes, a small smile forms across your lips. “Thank you for being here when I need you the most” you say quietly, twirling a lock of his hair around your finger.

“I’ll always be here for you my love” he says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Mind if I stay the night?” He asks, earning a quick nod from you.

After showering and doing your skincare for the first time in a week, you crawl into bed with Matt, resting your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you. Exhausted, you mumble a quick “love you” before drifting off to sleep.

“I love you too” Matt whispers into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Thank you for the request! This is a longer one, I hope you like it! This is my first Matt fic so I hope I didn’t disappoint. I also tried changing the colors of the boys dialogue so if y’all don’t like it, please let me know. Requests are open!! :)

XOXO - Zoe

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #fypage #imagine #emotions #fypppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp

426 notes · View notes

goblinontour · 4 months

Text

Cover Me In You

things take an unexpected turn in class when your professor catches you misbehaving ;)

warnings: dom!alex, age gap (not mentioned but reader is his student), power imbalance, smut, pwp, pet names, degrading, oral (m receiving)

word count: 2k

Professor Turner’s class always makes you nervous. You find yourself attracted to him.

Badly.

And you can’t help but stare at him every single time.

You think you are being smooth, but he always notices, and you kind of know he does. You caught him looking at you too a couple of times. You vividly remember one time he was sat in his chair, legs crossed, playing with his beard as he was looking directly into your eyes and he licked his lips. It drove you crazy and you couldn’t stop thinking about it all week.

Today though he looks especially good. Way too good. He is wearing some beige dress pants that show off everything just right, and his usual white shirt, perfectly tucked in. You want to keep a memory of him like that forever, so you can look back at it after class, that being the only time you ever see him. It’s as if he disappears after he walks out those doors, you’ve never seen him walking the halls or anything. So you take you phone out of your bag and take a picture of him while he was looking out the window. No way he could’ve noticed…right…?

At the end of class when he dismisses everyone, he asks you to stay behind for a bit, so you just remain in your seat, confused as to what he could possibly want from you. You never cause any trouble, you do quite well in his class actually.

When everyone is gone he gets up and slowly walks to the door to shut it and you gasp internally when you hear him lock it. He doesn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity. He out of nowhere just says “Want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

You don’t know what to say, you just sit, looking at him completely dumbfucked from what he just blurted out, mouth agape in pure shock. He gets closer to your desk, grabs your chin and closes your mouth for you. “You’ll need to open that later, for now it stays shut.” you simply nod, his touch still burning your skin even though his hand left your face. “Think I didn’t notice you sneakily taking that photo of me?” you can’t think of anything else to say other than “Sorry, Mr Turner…”, looking down at the floor. You can’t look at him, your face is red from embarrassment already. “I asked you a question though…do you want me to fuck you?” he said, enunciating every word in that last bit. “I already know the answer to that actually…so don’t bother anymore. Come here.”

You follow him to his desk, where he crosses his arms across his chest and looks down at you, your height difference just making it clearer who’s in charge in this moment.

“Give me your phone.” and you do as he says. “Go on now.” he says, as he points with his eyes to his crotch, and that’s when you notice he is hard, his pants making it very easy for you to see the shape of his cock. He leans back on his arms and waits, expecting you to know what you’re supposed to do. You nervously fiddle with the ruffles on your shirt and he chuckles at your demeanour. “Pretty girl’s all shy now, isn’t she? You weren’t shy when you were staring at me and you even had the nerve to take pictures of me, so go on. On your knees now, doll.”

You do as he says, not like you weren’t practically drooling for him, you just didn’t think this would actually ever happen. Your hands go to his waistband but you stop, unsure if he’s just making fun of you or something, or if he really means for you to do what you think he means. You look up at him and he nods for you to go on. You undo his belt, unzip his pants and push them down. He was big. You could even see the outline of his head now through just his black boxers that even have a wet patch from the precum leaking. You push those down as well and your eyes go wide when you see how huge he actually is as his cock is freed from its confines. He is so hard, his tip flushed. It’s begging for attention.

Your attention.

You grab his cock in your hand and you can’t even wrap your fingers all around. It is thick and the head is so fat, poking out from under the bit of foreskin there. You aren’t sure if you can even fit it in your mouth.

“Are you sure about this, sir?” you ask him. You wanted it bad but can’t help feeling insecure about it, how could he possibly like you like that?

“Shut the fuck up and get to work.” he says as he grabs your head and pushes it to his cock. You start by kissing his tip, softly, and he hisses as you take him in your mouth and play around with your tongue on his head. You start to suck him off and stroke him with both your hands at the same time, but that isn’t gonna work for him. He is already frustrated from all of this, which he considers you teasing him, and he’s not about to let you do that, so he grabs you by your hair and pulls you off him.

“Do better than that.” And you try. You try taking him as far into your mouth as you can, but it still isn’t enough. He grabs you hard by the cheeks, his cock still in your mouth, and he takes your phone from his desk and starts recording the sight beneath him. Your bulging cheeks and swollen lips around his cock .

“You wanted photos of me? There you have it. Now be good for god’s sake and take it all” he says as he thrust himself deep down your throat, still filming everything. He moves his other hand to the back of your head, tangled up in your hair. You gag and spit starts running down your chin as he tries to go all the way in, but he stops again, pulling you away, pointing the camera to your face now messed up with both your fluids mixing together.

“I think the little slut can do even better, can’t she?” looking directly into your eyes at that last part. You nod the best you can with him still holding your head tight in place.

“Now open up nice and wide and take it all, can you do that for me?”. You nod desperately, you just want to make him feel good, need his dick back in your mouth. He pushes himself down your throat again, and you take him all this time, your eyes stinging from the tears that start forming as you’re struggling not to gag. He stills and keeps you there, your nose brushing against his lower belly, the bit of hair down there scratchy against your skin. He wasn’t very vocal until now, but he can’t hold back the loud groan from escaping his mouth as you keep him down your perfect warm throat, made just for him.

When he feels you pushing back on his hand he pulls off, not all the way, just so that you could breathe a bit before he starts fucking your mouth. He starts slow, though pace quickly gets faster and more aggressive. He is rough, but you like it, love it. You like being the one to bring him pleasure. You take him well, by now your throat’s been stretched out to fit him just right, so it isn’t that painful anymore.

He is watching your neck as he continues to thrust into you, and with each movement of his he could see the outline of his cock deep inside you. That turns him on to an unbelievable degree, seeing how big he is inside you. He removes his hand from your hair and wraps it around your throat, his fingers delicate, the gesture completely the opposite of how he is using you right now. He doesn’t squeeze at all, he just wants to feel how you stretch to accommodate him, and he caresses your skin softly.

He was getting close by now, his breathing got more and more inconsistent and you could see his shirt starting to stick to his chest in places from the sweat. Through his quiet pants and gasps he mumbles something along the lines of “So good doll, taking me so well…Fuck”.

He slams the phone down on his desk, both his hands grabbing the edge of the dark wood tightly, his knuckles turning white. He lets you take control and finish him off. So you are determined to be good, no, the best. You hollow your cheeks and keep on sucking his dick.

You can feel him twitch inside your mouth so you take him all the way in again and stop there, looking right up at him. His head is thrown back, mouth open, his chest rising rapidly as his breathing became erratic at this point. He pulls you off him again.

“Wanna cum all over your pretty face, princess. Okay?”.

You start stroking him with your hands, he is so, so close, he doesn’t need much more stimulation. He grabs his cock from your hands into his own right one as he cums all over your face. His eyes squeezed shut tightly, his whole face contorting in pleasure. His nose scrunching up is your favourite part of it. You have your tongue out, hoping you could catch a few drops to taste him. He keeps squeezing himself until every last spurt is out, covering you.

You clean him up with your tongue, he was sensitive so you try to be careful.

As you are about to wipe his cum off your face he stops you to grab the phone again. He starts filming once more. “Fucking gorgeous” he mutters, almost as if he’s admiring a masterpiece through the phone screen. His masterpiece.

God, you just can’t wait to look back on that and hear his heavy breathing as he was coming down. You decide to put on a bit of a show for him, so you gather his cum with your finger and wipe it down on your tongue, swallowing all of it once you are done.

He tucks himself back into his boxers and pulls his pants up. You insist on fixing his belt for him though, rubbing your hands down his thighs after that. When you get up he fixes your hair and rubs the side of face in a sweet way, thanking you without actually saying it. He is about to pull you into a kiss when he hears someone outside that snaps him back to reality and your surroundings.

That’s when he goes back to his chair and dismisses you.

“See you next week, miss…?”. That hurts you, you thought he’d at least know your name and you pout, startingto overthink once you realise what you two just did.

“Just kidding love, I know you.” looking at you with a blissed out expression, and you can’t help but start to blush.

“I’ve been watching you for a while, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this to you”. You give him a small smile, pleased to hear he’s been thinking of you in this way too.

Going back to his first question, you really do want him to fuck you, properly. So hopefully next week means more than just a regular class, cause you for sure won’t forget about what happened today. He won’t either, though he doesn’t say that out loud.

As you are heading towards the door, his hand on your shoulder stops you. “Almost forgot this darling” he hands you back your phone. “Wouldn’t want that now, right?” he says in a playful tone, a slight smirk on his face.

“Oh and…uhm…make sure you send those to me, you have my email.” You simply nod and leave, smiling to yourself.

a/n: wrote this a few weeks ago straight after class, could say i got inspired (ugh…i wish) if there are any mistakes let me know

#alex turner smut #alex turner #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x you #alex turner x reader #smut #goblinontour

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val-cansalute · 7 months

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- EMBERS -

ch.3

content warnings: small amount of nsfw, 18+ (mdni)sub!reader x dom!ellie, strap r!receiving, finger sucking, scissoring. i’ve disintegrated. been dying at the hands of a cold for days. excuse the shitty writing. i actually despise this chapter. btw, this is the last one, BUT, theres gonna be a bonus chapter too. later. fingers crossed it’ll be better than this shit. banners by cafekitsune.

pt. 2

pt. 1

masterlist

The living room is dim, only illuminated by the lambent TV screen. It’s a harsh blue glow, one that makes your eyes hurt, but you don’t want to move.

For the first time in a week since the incident, you manage to bring yourself to leave your room, sit on the couch and watch a show. Or at least try to.

But this distraction isn’t enough. You can’t stop thinking about it, even just for one fucking minute. It has completely consumed you.

That day, when you laid back on the bed, Ellie had smiled down at you and it made those feelings you fought off for so long become, all of a sudden, almost tangible. And it scared you.

You know Ellie fucks around, know it more than you would like to, because you hear it late at night and it makes your bottom lip tremble.

She looked so beautiful, you almost felt guilty when you left her still figure behind, but you fucked up by giving in to your feelings. Now, you’re just like those girls she brings home on Saturday nights, the ones you never hear about again. It’s hard to accept.

Each of the seven days between that moment and this one, you’ve been doing everything in your power to avoid her. To call it difficult would be an understatement.

When her chest rose and fell gently, the soft hum of her breathing echoing in your mind, you left the dorm and went to spend the night with a friend. You sent Ellie a curt message. It was colder than it needed to be.

You: my friend called me over to watch a movie.

Dumbass: oh right i was wondering where u were

Dumbass: when r u coming back?

seen

The next few days were excruciating. You returned the next day, opening the door at the exact moment Ellie came out of her room. You closed it behind you, begging your face not to reveal how much you were struggling to seem unfazed.

She looked so good, standing there, rubbing her eyes lazily. She offered you a smile but you could tell it’s hesitant. You pretended not to notice and walked to your room awkwardly.

Your stomach twisted when you shut the door, picturing her confused face. Hurting her made you feel like shit, but you knew she didn’t care about you enough to feel hurt.

You could tell she was thrown off by your behavior though, the eyes that met yours seemed insecure when she started making attempts to get you to talk to her.

A day had passed since and, in the evening, she stood in your doorway as you pretended to study, her stance indicating she was slightly unsure of herself as she watched you.

“Hey…”

You turned to look at her for a split-second, immediately regretting it when your eyes met hers and turning back to your desk.

“… Wow, you’re studying again…”

“Mhmm,”

She chuckles to herself; you can practically hear the cogs turning as she comes up with something to say.

“Uhhh… Well… Careful there, you’re studying so hard, I can see your head expanding… by the second.”

Normally, though it's embarrassing to admit, a dumb dad joke like that would've made you giggle, but you were too deep in your thoughts to find anything funny.

Ellie left after standing in discomfort from your lack of a reaction. Just a few days ago, she would've poked and prodded till you were seconds away from slapping her. Not today. Everything was wrong.

But it was hard to keep avoiding her when, somehow, she managed to come out of her room at the exact moment you came out of yours, over and over again. She never ignored your presence either, handing you things she thought you'd need as you cooked in silence. It had to be a hazard to use a stove with your hands shaking like that.

Every now and then, she'd chuckle to herself while watching you and tell you a dumb pun she remembered hearing. You didn't respond; you felt like shit and you hoped the food you'd left for her wordlessly would let her know you weren't mad at her. Because you weren't, you were just mad at yourself.

Wednesday was rough.

You were cooped up in your room, too scared to use the kitchen; you felt pathetic.

And it felt like she was reaching down your throat and squeezing your heart cruelly when there was a soft knock on your bedroom door in the afternoon.

“... Hey... You up?” her muffled voice carried past your closed door and you croaked out a quiet, "Yeah."

“You want something to eat?”

“...No.”

“... I know you haven't eaten all day.”

“I've got snacks in here.”

You heard her sigh as you pressed a shaky hand to your pounding heart.

“That's not... enough.”

“Whatever, I don't feel hungry.”

There was silence for a moment and you winced at how harsh your tone came out but the sound of Ellie's footsteps getting further away gave you relief regardless.

Not too long after, Ellie was thumping her fist against your door and rattling the handle impatiently.

“Hey, asshole! Come play Mario Kart!”

“Not in the mood.”

“What? Don't you try to bullshit me; you're always in the mood for Mario Kart.”

You sighed and rubbed your tired eyes. You hadn't been sleeping well since you did it with Ellie. Late night brought on those thoughts. Those memories.

“No, not today.”

You heard her mutter “...Jeez,” as she walked away. This time, you knew she'd be back soon.

And she was.

“I wanna watch Shrek! Come on! I know you want to! ‘Better out than in, I always say. Eh, Donkey?’”

That Scottish accent made you cringe. For some reason, it was those kinds of things that made your feelings deepen. You're weird, you know that.

“No, I'm busy, Ellie.”

And then, again.

“You asleep? You're not decaying in there, right?!”

With a sigh, “Yes, I'm asleep, Ellie.”

“It’s like your ghost lingers…”

Again.

“HEY! Hey, open the door, it's important.”

You don't, “What do you want?”

“Did you know that- that the velociraptors in Jurassic Park weren't actual velociraptors, they were based on... Utahraptors?”

“… Okay.”

“Just letting you know.”

She stopped after that.

You snuck out of your room to get food but realized there was no need. She wasn't there.

She played her games and shows at full blast, shouting and laughing late through the night, let the dishes pile up in the sink, made the living room more and more disheveled each day, played music at unspeakable volumes in the shower, and made no attempts to speak to you.

You just let it be, because you couldn’t bring yourself to face her, even to reprimand her. You just sat in your room, hoping you could ignore these feelings till they went away but it proved to be harder than you ever anticipated.

So many emotions are weighing you down now, it feels like they're pushing against the confines of your skull, like your head's gonna burst.

And tonight is a Saturday night, so Ellie isn’t home. She left without a word, slamming the door behind her. She’s gone to some dumbass party to smoke weed. Then, she’ll come back cross faded with a girl you might’ve seen around campus a few times. You know her routine.

It makes your stomach ache.

You don't want to hear it- no, today, you can not hear it. You have no right to be upset, acting like she didn't even exist and like you weren't bothered by what the two of you did. You know that. But if you hear her tonight, you'll have no choice but to go. You feel pathetic. It happens a lot these days.

It's getting late, past midnight. If Ellie were to bring a girl home, it'd be around now. You squeeze your eyes shut, resisting the urge to smack yourself for thinking the thoughts that swarm in your mind.

Despite it all, you couldn't even tell yourself that having sex with Ellie was a mistake, because it felt so right in that moment.

You sigh and place your can of beer back on the coffee table in front of you, the bitterness that lingers in your mouth suddenly getting to be too much as you imagine what will unfold tonight. You're angry at her even though it doesn't make sense for you to be, huh?

Pushing through, you pat the space on the couch around you in a halfhearted attempt to find the remote, telling yourself you should probably go hide in your room before she gets back.

You hear it; the sound of her voice out in the hallway as she hums that song she was blasting in the shower earlier today. Now, you're frozen in place, watching the door swing open.

With the heartbeat of an animal of prey being hunted, you look back at the TV screen, too afraid to confront whatever you will inevitably have to confront tonight.

“Oh, you're not hiding in your room anymore, huh?” she murmurs, sounding almost as bitter as you, her words quiet and slow.

You find your hands moving on their own, grabbing the remote you were struggling to find and fumbling as you try to turn off the TV. “... I wasn't hiding. I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Fuck you.”

You throw your head around to meet Ellie's gaze. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are slightly bloodshot, but she's not drunk.

“Excuse me?”

She's alone. She came back alone. You can’t help but let out a shaky breath at the same time she pushes out a venomous scoff, mumbling some shit along the lines of my puns are fucking hilarious and doesn’t appreciate my fucking dino fun facts.

“That's the first time you looked at me in days. You're ignoring me, fuckin' asshole.”

You look down and shake your head; Ellie moves closer. So, you put the remote down and turn away to leave the living room.

“I told you, Ellie, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm gonna go to bed.”

“You better fucking stop pulling whatever shit you're pulling now.”

She grabs your wrist and looks you in the eye. You can smell it on her, the weed and the anger. That fucking addictive cologne she uses. And she looks so hauntingly beautiful in this blue light. Fuck. It's too much. You want to tell her to get off but the words die on your tongue; her expression hit you like cold water to the face.

Ellie looks sad.

“Why did... I thought… fuck... you can't do that... you're confusing me, you're being...”

Your eyebrows furrow in panic,

“Ellie... it was just sex, you... you have sex all the time. I mean, you usually bring someone over today, right? It’s not like it meant anything…”

She shakes her head, scoffing,

“That’s different. I dont know those girls. I don’t see them again. I know you; I see you every day!”

You’re caught up in the heat of the moment, huffing in frustration, not knowing what to feel, what to think.

“Well, I didnt think it was any different, I thought-”

Ellie shakes her head desperately, her voice cracking.

“Jeez, do I have to fucking spell it out for you? I have feelings for you! How can you not see that?… So, dont... fuck with me if you’re expecting me to act like it was nothing. Because, holy shit, it was something, and I can’t fuckin’ do that. I’m sorry.”

The world stops spinning for a moment and you’re standing in front of Ellie with a bright red face and a pounding heart, feeling like a little girl.

“You have feelings for me?”

She stares at you as you sit back on the couch and wipe a stray tear, and then another, and another.

Fuck, you’re ruining the moment. It’s so dramatic and stupid to cry about it, you know, but your body is completely overcome with relief, washing away the intense feelings that have been swirling in you the past week like a hurricane.

You’ve had feelings for Ellie since the moment you saw her, and they’ve only gotten stronger day by day. It was heartbreaking to see her so casually sleeping with other girls, and it was terrifying to think you’d become one of them.

“I’m so sorry, Ellie, I thought you thought it was just meaningless sex. I was so scared you’d act like nothing happened, so I acted like it didn’t happen first. Oh my god, I was such a bitch to you, Ellie, I’m so sorry-”

Ellie cuts you off as she brings your wrist up to her lips and presses a gentle kiss to the back of your shaking hand.

You look at her, your other hand gliding up her side and onto the back of her neck.

“You’re so pretty, Ellie, God, since I first saw you...”

You lean in and Ellie’s already on you, kissing you desperately, even more than the first time.

The two of you stumble back to your room, completely entangled, your hands roaming all over each other.

You’re on top of the sheets, moaning into each other’s mouths like you’re drunk, like your hands are moving on their own.

And your clothes are in a heap on the floor, discarded mindlessly as you tug on the waistband of Ellie’s jeans, hand slipping up her sports bra and circling her hard nipple gently before pulling it over her head and closing the gap between your mouths once more.

Her lips never leave yours as she shoves down her pants, fanning your face with hot, aroused breaths when you separate for air.

There’s a visible bulge in her boxers. The sight gives you feelings that travel straight to your core before your eyes meet hers.

She ducks and presses warm, gentle kisses along your collarbone; you can feel the smirk against your skin.

Her touch is electric, tongue gliding down your sternum, sending shivers throughout your body.

She mumbles, “I’ve been wearing it…” and kisses your right nipple, cupping your boob in her hand as she sucks it, teeth grazing the skin and tongue rounding it, before she pulls back with a pop. “Every day…” she moves to your left, doing the same, and your breathing picks up, your fingers tangling themselves in her auburn hair. “Since I fucked you.”

You can't hold back the soft moan that leaves your lips as you push your chest into her face, hips bucking against hers. Your cunt hits the bulge, nudging it against Ellie's clit and she squeezes her eyes shut with a groan before coming up and kissing you again, one hand holding your hip and the other interlaced with yours.

You chuckle against her as your nails gently graze the expanse of her back, “Always prepared, huh?”

Ellie's smile is breathtaking. It hasn't stopped making your heart flutter in a year. Everything feels warm, like home. You put your forehead against her's, exchanging hot, shaky breaths,

“Good, because I need it, Ellie, please.”

“Of course, baby,” she whispers, and the nickname feels right now, no awkward pauses following. She kisses the tip of your pink-tinged nose and peppers more across your neck as she pulls down her boxers.

You feel the silicone against your slit and your eyes roll back, a quiet gasp escaping. It's warm this time, the product of Ellie's body heat. And then you feel the feeling your body's been begging for as she rubs it against you, covering it with your slick. Those little noises you're making and the way you're quivering- it's driving Ellie crazy.

Her eyes never leave your face, glazed and staring up at you from the comfort of your shoulder as the tip teases your entrance.

“Tell me if it hurts, angel.” She slowly pushes it in with surprising ease, listening to your quiet moans, and, now, she knows- knows you've been aching for it for days. You glance down and give her a dazed smile, inviting her to keep going.

Ellie pushes herself up, closer to your lips and mutters, “Shit... I'm gonna make you feel good, promise,” locking her swollen lips with yours, and starts slowly pushing it deeper.

You're breathing heavy, moaning into her mouth like you're on ecstasy as Ellie picks up the pace, bouncing her hips against yours rhythmically. Her soft groans are filled with pleasure as the strap rubs against her core. It get you excited.

You can feel your own pleasure build up, babbling incoherently. Ellie knows you're both so close, so soon, and, with her hand on your hip, the other stroking your cheek, her thumb slowly inches towards your parted lips and enters.

You're looking directly into her eyes as she whispers, "Suck, baby." Your cheeks flush a deeper red, unable to speak as the feeling washes over you, lips wrapping around it and sucking.

Ellie moans at the sight, she pushes her thumb deeper till it hits the back of your throat and you gag, starting to thrust into you faster and harder now. Your eyes are rolling back into your head.

The tears that pooled in the corners of your eyes - she wipes them away and brings the thumb to your throbbing clip, watching you writhe desperately when she slowly circles it.

Her lips quirk into a smile, thrusts getting more and more hungry.

“Love your pretty little face so much.”

“F-fuck, I'm close, Ellie,” you choke out, cutting yourself off with a loud moan, so Ellie fucks into you harder, through your seemingly never-ending orgasm, and not pulling out even when it's done.

When you calm down, you pull her closer and bury your face in her neck,

“I wanna make you feel good, Ellie… Fuck… Cum on me.”

Ellie groans, “You got a slutty mouth, huh? I fucking love it.”

She’s searching for more, hungry for more, to make you feel good. To feel good. And her hand traces the skin down your stomach to your cunt, eyes clenching shut when she feels it dripping in slick.

Like it comes naturally, she moves back, kneeling over you after gently raising your leg onto her shoulder, and bumps her wet clit against yours.

The friction is delicious, your hips lift mindlessly, sliding your cunt up on hers. The movement earns you another graphic moan from Ellie, that, and the wet sounds of your cunts against each other before she grinds against you, softly brushing a lock of hair out of your flushed face.

She watches your body move, mesmerized by the way is bounces as her hands subconsciously dart around to feel and grope, squeezing your tits hard, grinding ravenously.

She leans over your figure, pushing your leg further into your chest, and kisses you as she thrusts her hips against you desperately, like she's feral, the way she gets when she’s close. Her sweet moans mix with yours as your arms wrap tight around her neck. The peak is getting closer, and it looks like everything around Ellie’s eyes is blurred, melting into a pool of warmth that caresses you. It’s long and intense, the feeling of her cunt clenching against yours, the sound of her panting as she rides it out.

You cum into her as she cums into you, slick covering your sweaty thighs. You feel complete, grinning dumbly.

You still feel euphoric when you come down, still feel euphoric when she kisses your forehead and pulls you close in her embrace because it’s not just sex.

This is something. The something.

#college!ellie williams #dom!ellie #ellie fluff #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x reader #enemies to lovers #fanfic #mean!ellie #modern!ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut #smut #mdni #Spotify

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wordsbyrian · 1 year

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First Skateboard - Alex Morgan x Reader

Summary: A sequel to "Skater Girl" in which R (a professional skateboarder) gets a skateboard for Charlie.

A/N: I actually had the idea for this before the idea for Skater Girl but I felt like I had to write that one first. Yeah, enjoy. Also, all mentioned skateboarders are real people except the photographer.

Ever since you reconnected with Alex a few years ago, life has been going pretty well for you. On both a personal and professional level.

Professionally, you’ve dropped some of your best video parts ever, you brought home a couple of X Games, SLS, and Dew Tour medals and you backside-flipped El Toro before they tore it down.

In your personal life, you and Alex got married a few years ago and have since had a daughter Charlie.

Plus, you haven’t even been tempted to break your sobriety since that day you saw Alex at the bottom of the hill.

Good things all around.

And they were only going to get better because Reynolds, your close friend and the man in charge of Baker skateboards, called last week and told you to expect a surprise with your next board and merch delivery.

A delivery which just arrived.

Flinging the front food open, you shout thanks to the mailman before grabbing both boxes and heading inside, the door slamming shut behind you.

Normally, all of your sponsorship deliveries get taken directly to either your car, for immediate use or to your “skate cave” (the garage) to be out of the way until you need them.

This time you carry them straight to the living room, where Alex and Charlie are hanging out.

“Hey Chuck,” you say, getting the attention of both your wife and daughter, “Uncle Andrew sent you a present.”

“Present?”

“Yea, little dude,” you confirm, setting both boxes down, “a present.”

As Charlie walks to you on slightly unsteady feet, you have to do your best to not laugh at the look on Alex’s face.

You know what she’s thinking, of course, the last time Reynolds sent you anything for Charlie, it was a baby dirt bike that was immediately banished to the garage.

Although, he’s assured you it's nothing that out there this time around.

Dropping to the ground beside the boxes, you shoot her what you hope is a reassuring smile before using a key to slice the tape and help Charlie open them.

When she does get the first open, you have to hold back another laugh because sitting on top of all the fresh merch is a bottle of Tylenol with the words “For Alex - Chill Pills” written on it.

Grabbing them before Charlie can, you toss them to their designated recipient.

“Looks like the Boss sent you something too, babe,” you say, carefully watching her face for any reaction.

It takes her a moment but eventually she just sighs deeply, putting the bottle somewhere Charlie can’t reach it, and speaks, “All of your friends are idiots, especially Reynolds.”

“I’ll make sure that I let him know you said that.”

Looking back down, you’re unsurprised to see Charlie already reaching into the box and pulling out some of the items.

It’s mostly shirts with the latest designs on them and you see a few packs of stickers and some hats in there as well.

Dropping one of the hats on the toddler’s head so that it covers her eyes, you hurriedly hide the stickers, sliding them underneath your leg. The last thing you want is for Alex to be mad because you let Charlie put one somewhere it shouldn’t go.

By the time she removes the hat, all stickers are out of sight and you’re already opening the box containing the decks.

Once it’s open you see exactly what Reynolds was talking about.

There sitting on top of the boards that you know are for you, is what has to be the smallest skateboard you have ever seen.

Smiling softly, you pass it to Charlie who immediately spins around to show Alex.

“Mommy,” she shouts, “Look what Uncle Andrew got me.”

The smile on Alex’s face is forced but she hides it well enough that Charlie can’t tell.

“That’s so cool, baby,” Alex says, “Why don’t you go put it in your room with your other toys.”

It takes a moment but Charlie does eventually run off to put the board away. You and Alex both stare after her silently waiting to see if she comes running back or if she gets distracted like she normally does.

When she doesn’t come rushing back, Alex immediately turns on you, face set in a hard glare.

“Seriously, Y/N,” she asks.

“What?”

“A skateboard? She’s not even three years old yet.”

“It’s just a board Alex, it’s perfectly safe,” you say calmly.

“You just got a cast taken off your arm last week.”

“That’s because I’m an idiot, Charlie isn’t going to be trying to drop in off roofs for a long time,” you try to explain, “Besides with me, Reynolds, and all the other guys, she’ll be perfectly safe.”

The look you get lets you know that your appeal isn’t working at all.

And if the look wasn’t enough to show you that Alex wasn’t moved by your words, what came out of her mouth surely is.

“I’m sorry that I don’t trust your idiot friends who nearly burned down their own warehouse to keep my daughter safe.”

Something about the way she says it pisses you off but the reasonable part of your brain knows that being angry isn’t going to make this conversation any easier.

So you take a moment, putting everything back in the boxes and grabbing them as you stand up.

“I’m gonna go put this stuff away,” you say, not looking at her, “Come talk to me when you remember that Charlie’s my kid too.”

“Y/N.”

You cut her off and continue walking away, “Seriously Alex, not now.”

A few weeks later, the incident is mostly forgotten, in that neither you nor Alex have brought it back up and have chosen to continue like it never happened.

At least that’s how you’ve been handling it until Alex walks into your bedroom one night after Charlie’s been put to bed with a concerned look on her face.

“What’s the matter,” you ask, setting your book down.

“The nanny canceled for tomorrow.”

“Oh shit.”

Alex has to hold back a smile as she rolls her eyes at your response and walks to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

“Yup,” she says, “And I can’t take her to training with me tomorrow, we have meetings in between our two sessions.”

“I’m kinda free in the morning, I’ve got a couple of calls with Nike and Red Bull,” you tell her, “the problem is the afternoon. Beagle and some of the guys are supposed to come down so we can get clips. Deadline’s coming up.”

You hear a groan followed by a light slight thump before Alex speaks again.

“Crap, can you take her with you,” she asks.

It’s your turn to grimace, the idea of having Charlie watch you and your friends practically throw yourself down stairs is not a very appealing one.

Seeming to sense your hesitation, Alex continues speaking, “You can bring the board Reynolds sent her and show her what you do for work.”

“Uh, what,” you say confused.

“Last week, Charlie said that I play soccer for work and that you take phone calls for work,” she says in a way of explanation.

“I’m not sure how that managed to change your mind about her skateboarding.”

It takes her another moment to respond and you just sit there staring waiting for her to finish brushing her teeth.

When she does, she walks back out of the bathroom and says, “You don’t think it’s weird that our daughter has no idea what you do for work? It doesn’t bother you?”

“Uh, no,” it sounds like a question even though you don’t mean for it to. “I’m 33 years old and I have no clue what either of my parents did for work when I was a kid. I think my dad might have been in the mob.”

“Can you be serious for 5 minutes, Y/N/N?”

“I think I’d die if I tried,” you say with a grin, “Might even be offed by my mob boss father.”

“You’re intolerable,” Alex says getting into bed.

“So I’ve been told,” you respond, “Just relax, I’ll take Chuck with me tomorrow. We’ll hang out with Beagle and the boys and everything will be cool.”

And for the most part, the majority of the next morning is cool, your calls go well and you manage to get all the details you need for the team tours hammered out.

The afternoon is when things take a slight turn.

First, Beagle and the guys showed up a little early, which normally wouldn’t have been a problem but Figgy walked into the house and immediately went to wake Charlie up from her nap.

Then you had to try and get a toddler and five grown men out of the house. It was only the promise of you buying lunch that convinces your friends and the promise of being taught to skateboard that convinces Charlie to head out to the van.

After that, it's back to smooth sailing.

You guys manage to knock out a few spots, everybody getting the tricks or lines that they’ve been working.

It’s at the final spot that you realize that maybe Alex was right about not having your friends around Charlie.

It all happens so suddenly too.

One second you’re slamming after yet again failing to laser flip down the Valencia 20 stair and the next you’re hearing a little voice saying, “Mama, you just got fucking broke off!”

And the only thought you have, while you’re laying there trying to catch your breath, is that it’s your fault really. You're the one that left Dickson and Theotis watching her while you tried this trick.

You don’t even have the energy to tell her not to say things like that, you need every last ounce of it that you do have to pull yourself back up the stairs to give the trick another go.

You speak only a few words on your way back up, “Thanks, Charlie. Beagle, I’ve got it this try, man.”

“Yeah, man, let’s get it,” the filmer shouts up at you.

It’s probably going to be your last shot to nail this trick, your body is aching, your shirt is torn, and you're pretty sure that you’ve got a couple of scrapes leaking blood and staining it.

So taking a deep breath, you begin pushing towards the stairs again.

Next thing you know, you're at the bottom of the stairs still on your board rolling away. Figgy, Dickson, and MIke, your photographer, are hooting and hollering, Theotis is skating after you holding Charlie, and Beagle is running behind you, camera still in hand.

Slowing to a stop, you let yourself be surrounded by your friends and take Charlie into your arms, you look at Beagle who speaks first.

“That’s the ender right there man, we start the part with that last slam and we have gold bro,” he says.

Before you have a chance to respond, Charlie speaks.

“Mama that was so cool,” she practically yells in your face, “Teach me how to do that?”

“Maybe we work on the basics like standing on the board first, and then work our way up to things like that,” you tell her, already fearing the repercussions from Alex. “Come let’s go ride for a bit while Figgy tries to kill this rail.”

“It’ll be gnarly.”

That night when you get home, you’re unsurprised to see that Alex is already there.

“Babe, we’re back,” you shout in greeting.

“In the kitchen.”

Making your way there, you’re quick to try and greet her with a kiss but you’re shocked when she leans away instead of returning your affection.

When you pout at her, she just rolls her eyes and says, “You smell, you’re covered in dirt, and,” she pauses, “Is that blood?”

“Might be,” you shrug, “Can I have my kiss now?”

You lean in again only to be stopped by a hand to the chest pushing you away.

“Go take a shower and then I’ll think about it,” she says.

Taking a step back you sigh, “Ugh fine. Charlie tell your mommy about all the stuff you did today.”

You begin walking away as your daughter begins to ramble. You make it halfway to your room when you hear it.

“And then we went to a school and Mama got fucking broke off when…”

You go running back to the kitchen shouting, “Charlie no!”

Alex glares at you the second you make it to the doorway.

“Y/N,” her voice is stern, “Why is our toddler cursing?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Never again, Y/N, never again.”

“Fair enough.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #alex morgan x reader #alex morgan imagine

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alwritey-aphrodite · 9 months

Text

Putting Roots In My Dreamland

Chapter Three of There’s Nothing Like This

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: here’s the Jamie I promised :) another shoutout to @buckychristwrites for helping me out when my brain shuts down

When you wake up on Sunday, body sore and head aching and mouth dry, you vow to never drink again. You wonder what had possessed you to make plans for today when you knew exactly what your night was going to be like as soon as your locker room celebration started. At some point, everyone had made their way from Nelson Road to a club, and it was all downhill from there.

Luckily for you, Jamie was in the same boat as you and was hopefully regretting his decisions just as much as you were. Though, knowing how unfair the world is, you’re sure he feels fresh as a daisy right now. He’s probably been up for hours and had time to make himself some sort of healthy, superfood smoothie before doing an intense workout followed by a shower with a complex hair and skincare routine, because he was insufferable like that.

You, meanwhile, were wondering how you’re able to stand on your own, let alone play a full football match. You’re reminded of the creeping end of your career, coming much faster than it should, so you throw yourself into the shower just so you have something else to think about. The warm water soothes your muscles and your overactive brain until you’re actually looking forward to spending the day with Jamie.

The shower takes longer than it typically would, mainly due to how long you just stand under the stream of water without doing anything, simply letting the water wash over your body as you psych yourself up for the day ahead of you. It wasn’t that Jamie made you nervous, but spending time with new people, getting to know new friends, was always a little nerve inducing for you. You and Jamie had only spoken a handful of times and never for any longer than five minutes, so the thought of spending a whole day with just him made your stomach flip.

After spending far too long in the shower, you check your phone to see a message from Mackie, along with plenty of pictures. You groan as you scroll through them, confronting your decisions from the night before. They aren’t bad pictures, and you’re surprised at how good of a photographer Mackie is even though she had just as much to drink as you did.

In all of them, you look exuberantly happy, your mouth wide open in a grin or mid-laugh with a drink in one hand and the other slung around the shoulder of a teammate or one of the boys. You’ve been happy, but it’s been a while since you’ve seen it, since you were able to look at your own face and see the joy so clearly written on it. Even just looking back makes you smile, until you get a text from Jamie and your stomach fills with nerves.

He’s sent you an address, asking if you want to meet at a coffee shop around noon so he can show you around Richmond, and you don’t even remember giving him your number.

Can’t wait! You reply, even though you’d love nothing more than to wait and spend the rest of your day lounging in front of your TV and eating nothing but comfort foods. Instead, you finish getting ready before standing in front of your closet and taking far too long to settle on an outfit. You know you’ve already met and that you’ve literally tackled the man, but you still want to make a good first impression outside of Nelson Road, outside of whatever you said or did last night.

All you hope is that you didn’t embarrass yourself too much.

You decide to walk to the cafe, knowing the fresh air will help you calm your nerves more than driving on the confusing London streets would. To your shock, Jamie is already sitting there when you arrive with fifteen minutes to spare. Even from a distance, you can see the way he alternates between checking the time on his phone and pushing his hair out of his face, the headband he wears at Nelson Road nowhere to be seen.

When he finally spots you coming towards him, he launches himself out of his chair and rushes forward to meet you halfway. He’s wearing dark colored pants and a nice button-up instead of the matching tracksuit you’d been expecting and looks nowhere near as hungover as you feel. He looks like he’s been up since the sunrise and went on a run just because he wanted to, and it makes you momentarily hate him just a little until he smiles at you and you’re reminded that he’s really just a boy who happens to be a professional footballer.

Pleasantries are exchanged as you both take a seat, and you can’t help the way your eyes drift from the menu in your hands to his face, the way he’s pouting slightly as he thinks and pushes his hair away from his face in what you assume is a nervous habit, something to keep his hands busy. It’s endearing in a way that makes you want to stand and run and never leave your house again.

After the two of you order, the conversation stills and the silence becomes awkward and you have no idea what to say. It’s not like you can ask him about himself, because your guilty pleasure is trashy tabloids and you’ve read more of his interviews with well-known papers than you’d like to admit. Jamie doesn’t seem all that eager to break the silence either and there’s been a furrow in his brow since you sat down, so you take it upon yourself to get the ball rolling.

“Thanks for offering to show me around, I really appreciate it,” you say, setting down your utensils as you finish eating, “I feel like I haven’t done anything except train since I got here.” And really, you weren’t wrong; you’d gone to the grocery store and stopped at a coffee shop with Mackie after practice one day, but other than that you haven’t been anywhere except Nelson Road and your house, and you’ve already been in Richmond for more than a month.

“Yeah,” he nods along as you speak before he adds, “I’ve been here a lot longer than you and I still don’t really know Richmond that well.” You can’t help the confusion that clouds your face as the man who offered to show you around Richmond admits that he doesn’t know the area and Jamie notices immediately so he scrambles to add, “I know a lot of places! Just not everywhere, but I’ve got my favorites.”

It’s becoming more and more difficult not to smile when you’re around him, there’s just something about him that makes you feel so open in a way you haven’t experienced since you met Mackie. He’s attentive, listening to everything you have to say with his full attention, nodding along as you answer questions about your favorite things and what you miss from back home and how you’re liking London so far.

It’s obvious that he genuinely cares about your answers, that he wants to hear what you have to say, and you can’t remember the last time anyone paid attention to you like that and it makes your skin prickle in a way that isn’t completely unpleasant.

The two of you start your tour around Richmond, questions and stories being volleyed back and forth as you walk along the streets. Jamie contributes to your conversation and he answers all your questions openly, but it’s clear that he’d rather have the focus be on you and the majority of his contributions are nods and “mhm”s thrown in when appropriate.

You can’t help but to wonder if this is how he acts with everybody or if it’s just because you’ve really only just met or if he’s regretting offering to show you around Richmond. You always make it a point not to talk about yourself, wanting to keep the focus on anything other than you and your life, and even though you’re not spilling out your deepest darkest secrets, you still feel exposed in ways you hadn’t expected.

“I love all the girls, and the coaches, and Keeley and Rebecca are great,” you say after Jamie asks how you’re liking Richmond so far. You know that’s probably not what he meant by that question but you can’t fathom opening up to him any other way, definitely not in the middle of a Sunday in a public park while you’re still a little hungover.

The last person you’d really, truly opened up to, shared all your deepest fears and hopes and dreams with was Mackie, and you’d been friends for almost five years now. The idea of exposing yourself, of someone truly getting to know you made your skin crawl, despite how much you’re coming to enjoy being around Jamie.

“Yeah, Keeley’s awesome, she’s one of me best mates,” he replies and you’re glad that the conversation has shifted away from you and onto someone you’d much rather talk about.

Jamie’s tour ends up being less like a tour and more like the two of you aimlessly walking around Richmond with him vaguely pointing out restaurants and shops that he likes, but you don’t mind at all. It’s much nicer than you’d expected just to talk with Jamie, and you find yourself looking forward to spending more time with him while also feeling terrified of seeming childish if you were to ask him to hang out again.

Despite your football playing strategies, you’d never been one to be exceptionally forward or confident in your personal life, so even just the idea of spending a day with Jamie seemed unbelievable. Although, he really was nothing like you’d expected.

The Jamie you were spending time with was considerate and a little awkward and told awful jokes that you couldn’t help but laugh at, and the more time you spent with him the more relaxed you became. By the time you find yourself in front of your house, you’re debating whether or not you should lie and say it isn’t your place just so you can keep walking, and you can spend a little more time talking with Jamie.

“This is me,” you say instead, throwing an arm backwards to point at your front door, “I had a really nice time today, thanks for showing me around.” You try not to smile too wide, try not to seem like a child who’s overly excited about making a new friend even though on the inside you’re practically jumping up and down.

Once you’d gotten past the fact that you were talking with the Jamie Tartt, football star, you were really just overjoyed at the idea of finally having a friend that wasn’t just a teammate, someone who you’d need to see outside of training and who’d drag you out of your house to experience life.

“Yeah, of course,” Jamie responds, his hands hovering out in front of him before he settles them into his pockets, “we’ll have to do something again sometime.”

You can’t help but to smile at Jamie and how uncharacteristically shy he seems, but when he notices you smiling, he beams back at you. You say your goodbyes before heading inside, internally debating whether or not you should have asked if he wanted to come in.

——

As Jamie watches your front door close, he takes his first deep breath of the day. It seemed like he was held together by nothing but nerves all morning, and now that he’s heading home he can finally relax. He’d been so worried about saying something dumb that he’d barely talked, choosing instead to ask you question after question to keep the conversation on any topic except himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share with you, because he really did, he just couldn’t risk ruining what was shaping up to be a comfortable friendship with his own insecurities and fears. And, he could listen to you talk for hours and hours no matter what you were saying. You could read him the dictionary and he’d sit with rapt attention the entire time, overjoyed just to be near you.

He’d been worried he’d come off too strong and scare you away, but it seemed as if you enjoyed yourself as much as he did. He can’t help the little bubble of pride that fills his chest over the idea that you enjoyed a day he’d planned, enjoyed spending time with him enough to say you wanted to meet again soon.

You'd been so different from how you were at the Dog Track, than how you are on the pitch, but Jamie doesn’t mind at all. He wants to learn everything about you, all your quirks and fears and everything you love.

Being around you feels like being punched in the chest, and Jamie can’t remember ever feeling this way about anyone, not when he met Roy Kent for the first time or when he told Keeley he loved her, but he doesn’t mind. It’s a new feeling, and it scares him a little, but it’s not a bad feeling at all. It’s like he can’t breathe around you, but he’d rather struggle for breath than never see you again.

Ever since that moment when your eyes locked your first day at Nelson Road, Jamie hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. He remembers checking Instagram every morning and night until Keeley posted the women’s team roster and then he spent hours scrolling through your page.

At first, he’d felt like a creep, like he was intruding on something private even though your page was public and you’re a professional athlete. He was careful not to like any of your old photos, careful not to do anything that would send you a notification that he was spending hours scrolling down your profile.

There were photos of you and Mackie and the rest of the US Women’s Team, there were professional photos of you at events or at photo shoots for brand deals, there were action shots of you on the pitch, but his favorite photos were the ones you’d taken yourself, selfies and group photos and pictures of your travels.

If anyone was around, Jamie would have been beyond embarrassed when he realized he was smiling as he scrolled through your photos, taking in those little aspects of you that he hadn’t gotten the chance to experience yet in your minimal contact with each other. Even more embarrassing to him was the fact that he didn’t follow you for another week, needing time to work up the nerve as if it was outlandish that he’d follow you on your public account, as if all the other players on his team weren’t already following you.

He just loved getting to see the world, see Richmond and Nelson Road from your eyes.

There’s something about you that makes him want to learn everything about you, that makes him want to spend every moment of his free time with you, that makes him want to fall asleep and wake up next to you. He’s not sure what it is yet, but he knows some of his teammates are starting to pick up on it, Sam even going so far as to call him out on his starry-eyed staring.

All he hopes is that you don’t pick up on it.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @buckychristwrites @benedictscanvas @whimsical-roasting @sokkigarden @guccilongboard @onceuponaoneshot @presidential-facts @yepyeahuhhuh @loveslide @allthefandomtherapy @gibby31 @buddyjuststop @ellietartt @cancvr @brianandthemays @sonyume @aiyaiy @captainfrisbee @dalebo3 @theloud-yet-quietone @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @rockchickrebel @legobatmans9thab @curlypeter @lostinwonderland314 @yokolesbianism @jamietarttdodo @kno-way-home @fan-goddess @innocentbi-stander @skewedcherries

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #there’s nothing like this

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