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#I know it's not likely to do well but with the time it took I might as well try and increase its visibility a tiny bit
s0dium · 2 days
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Douchebag
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A/n: This is honestly the BEST fic I've ever written! I took a lot from prompts I found on this site and the smut scene is inspired from a book called "The Kiss Quotient." (It was just so damn good). This fanfic is also inspired by my original fanfic, "Douchebag" Tengen x Reader. ALSO, I AM WORKING ON YUTA FICS, SO DON'T WORRY! Word count: 3.5k
Synopsis: Gojo Satrou was a man of many things. It would be hard to find anyone in the jujutsu world who hadn’t heard of his name before, whether that be through his many wins in battle or his reputation as an A-class player. Some describe him as eccentric, and others (mostly girls) describe him as irresistible. You? Well, you on the other hand would describe him as nothing else than an utter, complete,  douchebag. Warnings: Enemies to lovers,  teasing, fingering, intense kissing for a sec, squirting, use of pet names, belly bulge, cervix fucking, breeding kink, virgin!reader, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, choking ~
You scoffed, watching through the classroom window as a clearly frustrated old man stormed out of the building, no doubt a higher up. No doubt the work of Gojo Satoru. "God I hate him." You hissed, turning to face a dozing-off Shoko and your other friend Haibara. The classroom you sat in was almost empty, bathed in the soft light of midday filtering through large windows. Sparse shadows stretch across the well-worn wooden floor. Rows of desks, mostly unoccupied, face a dusty chalkboard at the front. "Who Satoru?" Shoko yawned, leaning into the palm of her hand to face you. Haibara lets out a loud chuckle. "Why? Because he's an ass to higher-ups?" He nods to the window and you click your tongue against the rough of your mouth. "No, it's because he is an ass in general. His whole 'holier than thou' attitude, and don't get me started on the way he treats girls." You practically shiver as you remember the time you saw some poor girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High profess her love to the white hair man, only to run away sobbing. "I swear to god it's like he expects us to kiss the floor that he walks on, he's.... infuriating" "Who's infuriating?" Oh god, you knew that stupidly deep voice anywhere. You whipped around to find yourself face to face with the very tall white-haired man you were talking about; a shit-eating grin spread across his infuriatingly handsome face.
“You couldn't be talking about me, could you?” Satoru's voice dripped faux shock and you rolled your eyes.
“Well you know what they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You spat.
“That must be why you love using that pretty mouth of yours to talk about me so much.” Satoru lowered himself to close the provoking height difference between the two of you until your noses were inches away from touching. “Cause ya love having me around  doncha.”
In that moment you have to conjure up every ounce of self-restraint to not spit in his face there and then, and luckily your friends catch the drift. "Hey Satoru! What are you doing here?" Perked up Haibara who reached out his hand to dap Gojo up. "Well, Suguru and I are heading for a night out today, small club, and I thought, out of the kindness of my heart," You scoff and Gojo merely grins and continues, "I'd invite you all. Drink on me of course." As Satrou's invitation lingered in the air, you noticed Shoko's ears perk up. Her curiosity was piqued, a subtle lift of her eyebrows betraying her interest. You bit your tongue, the taste of reluctance sharp against your teeth. The idea of going anywhere with Satrou was far from appealing, but knowing your friends might join made it harder to outright refuse.
You crossed your arms defensively, leaning back slightly as you fixed Satrou with a skeptical look. "And why would you want me there?"
Satrou's lips curled into a half-smirk, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint."You're annoying, I'll give you that," He took a casual step closer, and leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, "but I never said you weren't fun."
His words, intended to irk you, did their job well. You glared at him sharply, the frustration evident in your furrowed brows and the hard set of your jaw.
Satrou chuckled.
“Great, I’ll take that as a yes then, I'll text you guys the details.” He turns around to walk out of the classroom. “See you guys there!”
There was a silence as you all watched Satrou walk away before Haibara turns to look at you. “So are you going to go y/n? Come on it will be so much fun!”
“Yeah no way in hell.”
~ You were a liar. You were a liar because here you were, leaning over the counter of a bar in a club that was far from "small." The nightclub was a pulsing, chaotic hive of activity. Neon lights flashed in syncopation with the deafening throb of electronic dance music that shook the very air. The club was jam-packed with bodies moving rhythmically, the heat from the mass of humanity palpable as the scent of sweat and sweet perfumes mingled. The bar surface was sticky under your arms, and the occasional spill from a too-hastily poured drink added to the chaos of sounds and smells around you. You lazily stirred the thin red straw into your drink, trying to politely ignore the creep who wouldn't stop talking to you.
Somehow, in the maze of gyrating bodies and blinding strobe lights, you had lost both Shoko and Haibara, leaving you stranded at the mercy of this clueless conversationalist. Despite the roar of bass and the chatter of dozens of conversations, his words seemed to bore into your ears, relentless and unyielding. He leaned in closer than necessary, trying to make himself heard over the club's cacophony, not realizing or perhaps not caring, that you were more interested in plotting an escape than in anything he had to say. "And might I say you look gorgeous tonight." It took everything you had not to scoff at this creep's words, but before you should shut the man down, you felt an arm wrap around you. "Everything alright love?" Oh god. You knew that voice anywhere. As you turned, you were met by Satrou's piercing blue eyes, their color vivid even behind stylish rectangular sunglasses. The multicolor flashing lights overhead caught in the threads of Satrou’s light blue button-up, making it shimmer subtly, and the fabric clung just right to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, hinting at the well-defined physique beneath. You hated the fact that your brain immediately noted how damn good he looked. His arm was wrapped around your waist drawing you close and you had to bite your tongue from frowning at the pet name he had given you As he leaned in, his voice was low, a soft murmur over the noise of the club, "This guy bothering you baby?" His tone was teasing, and you could detect the challenge in it, as if daring you to admit that his closeness and pet names affected you just as much as he knew it did. "Of course I'm fine baby!" You smile brightly and for a second you think Satrou looked a bit taken aback. If playing along got you out of this situation so be it. "This guy, I'm sorry, what's your name?" You glance back at the creep who had turned bright red. "I'm sorry, excuse me." You watched as the man disappeared into the throng of the bustling crowd, your attention fixed until he was well out of sight. Only then did you turn back to Satrou, the false warmth on your face instantly transforming into a cold, hard glare.
"Thanks for that, but you can get your hand off me now," you said, your voice icy as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. Despite your efforts, Satrou’s grip on your waist remained firm, unyielding.
"And why should I? I think we made a fantastic couple," Satrou cooed, a teasing lilt in his voice. His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly enjoying the moment far more than you.
You rolled your eyes, exasperation seeping through. "You really think I would fall for something like that?"
"Why? Did you?" he probed further, his smile widening, eyes searching yours for any sign of genuine affect. Anger started to boil up inside you as your attempts to escape his grasp remained futile.
"I don't think you understand the dynamic here very well, Satoru," you began, your voice low and deliberate, each word punctuated for emphasis. You stepped closer, invading his space as much as he had invaded yours, your eyes never leaving his. "Let me make this crystal clear, I'm not someone you can just fucking conquer, and I'm certainly not one of those girls who's gonna kiss the ground you walk on with your whole 'I'm the strongest' act," you seethed.
Your face was mere inches from his now, your breath mingling, the tension palpable. "Because I know what you really are, Satrou," you hissed, the anger in your voice barely contained. "You're a fucking douche bag." "Oh? Is that so."
Satrou's expression shifted subtly, the amusement fading into something more measured, more cautious. He studied you for a moment and you took the chance to wiggle out of his grasp and make your way through the crowd on the dance floor toward the door. The beat of the music pounds in your ears and throughout your body making your synapses jump like beans in a tin can. You can barely see the floor, only flashes of bodies you frantically tried to push past. Before you can make it to the back door, a hand grips your wrist tightly enough to halt your forward rush. Above the din of the pulsating music and amidst the strobe-lit shadows of dancing figures, Satoru's face comes into view. You feel your breath catch in your throat. God his is beautiful. Strobe lights catch and accent every one of his sharp features alighting them in a multicolor color hue. He pulls your wrist to him so you're close, too close. You can smell the old spice shampoo from his hair mixed in with some sort of sweet cologne. It's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again. "Jesus fucking Christ y/n" he breathed his eyes searching yours. "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?" You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”
“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so
“I-fuck you” the words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.
“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and his eyes are soft. Fuck it. You can no longer hear the lyrics to whatever song was playing, only a soft dull hum of the beat in your ears. Immediately your lips are on his. The kiss is frantic, hot, messy. The club's pulse thrummed through you like a second heartbeat, the noise and chaos all but forgotten in the singular focus of his presence. You could feel one of his large hands on the small of your back, drawing you in until there was no space left between the both of you. Your mouths clashed against each other as if you were both seeking something vital, something long-denied. Satoru's lips were insistent against yours, moving with a fervor that matched the pounding bass surrounding you. You whined as his tongue slipped into your mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the firm press of his chest against yours. The scent of his cologne mixed with the smoky air around us, intoxicating and heady.
Your mouths separated with a soft pop, and Satoru is grinning while you're left dazed, breath heavy and chests rising and falling after it. "How bout you say we get out of here Princess."Gojo's voice was a low murmur, his breath warm against your ear as you broke from the intense kiss.
Before you could even respond, a dizzying rush enveloped you. The loud club vanished in an instant, replaced by the quiet, dimly lit ambiance of his bedroom. You were suddenly on his bed, the soft duvet beneath you a stark contrast to the hard dance floor we'd just left. Right, he can teleport. You forgot about that. Wait was he... where are you going to... Before you can get a word in, he’s once again engulfing your lips with his and pulling you into a feverish kiss in which the two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other. The moment one pulls away to breathe, the other is immediately searching for their lips again; intertwining tongues and teeth clashing together recklessly.
Your hot, everything is hot, your body is burning up by the second and there’s a sickly sweet feeling in your stomach that keeps on expanding as time passes. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hand slip under your skirt and lightly trace the outline of your slit with his index finger. You're painfully wet; your arousal has made a large spot on your underwear translucent. “Just touch me,’ you whined, arching impatiently against his hand. He couldn’t make either of you wait any longer. Slowly, he brought his middle finger down and slid it gently over her folds. You threw your head back. "Ahhhh, more please." He did it again, this time his fingertip slipping between and gathering your wetness. He parted you with two fingers. You let out a gasp when he hit your clit and started to rub it in small circles. You tried to say something, anything to explain how hot you were feeling right now, but your words were lost against his soft lips. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him so close against you, skin to skin. Time and space had no meaning anymore. There was only you and Satrou.
“You feeling good baby? Satrou speaks slowly, breath on your neck and voice in your ear making you shiver. You bite your lip and nod like any words that came from you would ruin it. You almost wince when you feel two fingers slip into your tight hole. "Jesus, fuck. You gotta relax princesses." He chuckled, knowing far to well that the tightness was going to feel delicious around him. Two fingers worked into you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. He began a steady rhythm as his tongue nipped and sucked the tender skin of your neck. You couldn’t prevent her hips from rising to meet his thrusts. Oh God, you were riding his hand. That had to be bad. You told herself to stop. You couldn’t. Somehow, you found your hands tangled in his short white hair. Your body was coiled tighter, grasping at his fingers, so wet now you could hear the slippery sounds every time he drove back into you. "Hnghhh.... so good." You squeezed your eyes type, becoming focused on the tightening feeling of your core and the blossoming warm pleasure. Your legs started to tremble under the unbearable pleasure and your back arched against the bed as if your body was trying to escape the euphoric feeling that coursed through your skin. "That’s it, fuck, beautiful girl... such a natural submissive...." You want to tell him he's wrong, all this pleasure wasn't because of his egotistic ass, but it'd be a lie. And as if on command, all feelings come to a heightened crescendo; explosions of euphoria clouding your brain causing your toes to curl from pleasure and your body to shake like a leaf.
It takes a couple seconds after you calmed down to realize you squirted all over Satoru's hand and all blood rushes to your face turning you a bright red.
“Oh my god in so sorry I didn’t-”
Your voice dies out as you watch Satrou pull off his shirt, revealing his extremely built body and toned muscles, to wipe the liquid off his hand. You don’t even notice that he had pulled out his dick until you feel something pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so. Your stomach inwardly twisted,  filled with the sickly excitement and your breathing started to quicken. "Shhhhh baby," Satoru cups your cheek and kisses your forehead. It was a sweet gesture despite everything happening right now, a gesture that made your heart swell and your mind yearn for Satoru. The stretch of his dick spreading your walls is insane. No amount of preparation could've prepared you for the length of Satoru's dick. You feel it heavy inside you and Satrou pushes into you until he can't push anymore, until his hips are flush against you and the tip of his length is smushed against your cervix. The pleasure of that alone felt numb, unbearable, you needed friction, you needed him to move. You practically faint when he first thrusts into you in earnest. It's euphoric; the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up. His cock pulsed inside of your silky walls, stretching you to the fullest capacity as he bottomed out again and again. "Oh fuck." Satrou groaned. He was no longer grinning, Satoru's playful resolves vanished and his smile quickly dropped. He knew you'd feel good, but he didn't expect how good you'd feel. The feeling of his hand he had fucked himself to the thought of you for so many nights was nothing compared to the real thing. It was too much, the feeling of your wet soft walls gripping him so tightly. How was he able to live without your pussy in the first place? The pleasure built rapidly, too potent, too insistent. He kneeled over you, a groan escaping his lips—a raw, primal sound that vibrated through the charged air between you. Satorus thrust your quick and hard, a clear display of strength and endurance he had gained from years of jujutsu training. "Been thinking about this, so long, bet you have to have ya~"
As Satrou's long, deliberate fingers encircle your neck, a thrilling chill races down your spine. He applies pressure gently at first, then with a firmer, insistent grip that gradually restricts your airflow, sending a wave of exhilaration through your senses. The world around you narrows, focusing intently on the point where his skin contacts yours, heightening every other sensation that courses through you. His other hand slips under your bra bra to grab and massage your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipples.
"Satoru..! Ahhhh..! I..I, fuckkkkk can't handle this.." You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed with his hand squeezing your throat it was just all too much.
Satoru. Satoru. Satoru
"Slow down.. please im gonna ahhhh~" Drool slipped passed your lips and you writhed and squirmed at the feeling of hot euphoria passed over your body in flesh arrow. "Gonna cum? Fuck baby, let's... let's come together m'kay?" Satrou almost stuttered. His body had kicked into autopilot, and a deep primal need for you settled in as he thrust in and out, creating a methodical rhythm that echoed in your ears. Your ankles lock around his lower back and you cry out when the head of his cock kisses your womb, your legs shaking as you feel yourself start to be thrown into an intense orgasm. You want to say something about the weird feeling in your stomach, how your skin is buzzing but it's all too much, and before you know it your tumbling toward the edge. It feels like your whole body was shot with electricity and color dances in your eyes as you float in ecstasy.
"Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~" He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. Satoru doesn't pull out as you both come down from your high, instead watching you intently as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Wanna do this again?" He chuckles.
"Fuck, yes, please."
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offthepages · 3 days
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And so the stars aligned. Pt 3
Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader.
Summary: After a few weeks of Azriel teaching you to read, your sisters confront you about how much time you’re spending with him.
Warnings: Some slight suggestive stuff? Nothing explicit.
Ageless and MDNI
a/n: I know that I should probably- not upload so often. However, this has been knawing at my brain all day and I really just needed to post it so I can write the next part.
Part One, Part two, Part Four Requests are open!! Masterlist
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You and Azriel walked up toward the exit of the Library after yet another reading lesson. Your arms linked, as you let your hand rest on his forearm. He always offered you a hand, an arm, something to keep you close to him. Not that you minded being closer to him. The Illyrian was tall, warm, and very easy to hold onto. His scarred hands never purposely reached for yours, but sometimes you’d brush hands as you exchanged books or he delicately took the pencil from you to help you spell. You’d have to think pure thoughts for the next few hours. Keeping your mind off of what you wanted to feel them doing.
For about two weeks you’d meet here for a few hours each day and practice your writing, spelling, reading, and anything else Azriel deemed important for you to know. Clotho had stopped him apparently from bringing in a punching bag to train you. You couldn’t help but laugh so hard tears gathered and your stomach hurt after, when you walked down to the fifth floor only to see him pouting about it. "You big Illyrian baby." You coo'd after your laughs died down. And you rubbed his shoulders a little. He hadn't looked you in the eyes that day. But the lessons were working, you could now confidently read through the stack of books he brought to every meeting.
“I think we can upgrade to chapter books soon.” He speaks up, pulling your attention away from your thoughts. His warm, honey gaze finds yours as he lets a soft smile break through that normally stoic face of his.
“You think so?” You hum, with a slight tinge of hope. Maybe you could actually read the book you toted around thanks to him.
Azriel nods, closing his eyes as he does so. “Mmh. You’ve got the foundation down. Now we expand it.” His voice is smooth and calm. He spoke with ease, and somewhere deep within you it made you feel safe, calm. You’d wondered if that’s why you learned so quickly, because the words you didn’t know- they sounded like rich, warm melty chocolate in his voice. And you’d repeat it in your head all night long as you laid there in bed recounting your day. You didn't want to admit to yourself how late you stayed up thinking about him.
Your reply to Az gets cut short however as you hear your oldest sister's voice cut through the library. “Ah! If it isn’t our one and only, y/n.” Her voice drips in condescension, and normally you could handle Nesta. She didn’t scare you, not like the others at least. You knew her and knew that tone, you knew that tone of voice all too well. She was like a lion ready to pounce. Relentless teasing awaited you as you gazed at your sister. And she knew it too, watching you with a feline smirk as her hands rested on her hips in a power pose.
“Nesta.” You nod at her, removing your arm from where it had safely rested in the crook of Azriel’s arm. Immediately feeling colder, less protected. Vulnerable in front of your sister now. You felt the cool swirling sensation of Azriel’s shadows rising to attention, aware and ready to pull you back if needed. Nesta raised an eyebrow at the two of you, a slight smirk she tried to will into nothing. “How can I help you?” It was then you noticed your other two sisters, and now your brow furrowed. Elain stood smiling dumbly, like a love sick little puppy at Azriel. Her eyes raking over him. Something in her gaze made the hair on your arms stand, and you wanted her to stop looking at him like a piece of meat. Feyre stood watching you with a quirked eyebrow and a little grin. Her blue grey eyes shinning in amusement, like she too couldn’t wait to tease you. But it wasn’t everyday your sisters came together. Had something happened? Was everything okay?
Nesta looks Azriel up and down, not in the same way Elain had been. No she was sizing him up, in a fight you’re not sure the shadowsinger would win. Squinting at him before using her chin to motion him out. “We can assist her home. Thank you.” Nesta’s tone leaves no room for argument. Azriel for the briefest moment locks eyes with you. Asking you silently if you’d be okay with that, so you give a subtle nod. His shadows swirl around him again, something that was less common when it was just you too. They always pooled around your feet like a dog. You wondered if you could pet them. Unable to help the smile that spreads, you give a small wave to see him off. Watching him hesitate as he looked at you and your sisters, but his eyes glossed over and he chuckled lowly under his breath. And gods what you wouldn’t do to hear that sound again. Feyre must have said something to him with her daemanti powers.
So with that, Azriel left your side. Albeit a little unwillingly as he pressed a kiss to your temple before glaring at Nesta as she coo'd at you. He disappeared into the shadows. Leaving you now with your sisters who were all staring at you expectantly. Suddenly you felt like you were nothing but a child in front of them. Caught with your hand in the cookie jar and chocolate smeared on your face. Subconsciously you wiped your lips. "…hello." You greeted.
Nesta continued to smirk as she watched you. Knowing what her gaze did to her youngest sister. She uses her head to motion them out, not waiting for anyone to argue with her. And the rest of the Archerons followed suit, finally, Feyre speaks up, as if she didn’t just bombard you and demand you go with her. "So, will you join us for lunch?"
"I don't think I had a choice." You jest, elbowing her playfully. Feyre looks over at you with slightly wide eyes, as if feigning hurt, before her smile breaks through. Her laughter becoming instantly contagious. “Whose idea was this?" You look over at Nesta and Elain.
"Why must there be a reason for sisters to hang out?" Elain shrugs, looking at you with an amused smile and shooting you a wink. Squinting at your sister she can’t help but just smile more. Nesta just winks at you as she leads you to Rita's, it didn't surprise you that it was Nesta's favorite restaurant. With the vibrant music that always played, sometimes accompanied with bad karaoke singers; those were your favorite nights. Rita’s was a busy place- easy for conversations to get lost amongst others. Oh, and of course, the food was delicious. You truly didn't mind going out to lunch with your sisters, it was nice to have an actual familial bond with them.
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Conversation came easy as you all discussed everything and anything. Catching up with each other like old friends, part of it made you long for this in your girlhood. It would have made those years of poverty just a little brighter. Feyre told everyone how Rhys was trying to teach Nyx to fly, except for the fact that Nyx's wings were still too floppy to work. You admired the way that she lit up talking about her family. Seeing her happy meant that maybe you’d be that happy one day too. Nesta tells everyone about Gywn and Emerie's recent book recommendations. And her words made you long for friends that could talk back, unlike the flowers in the gardens. Elain discusses her garden plans- and even asks what they think about her opening a flower shop. You wondered if she’d let you work there, it be so nice to get out of the house. To have a purpose.
And then- like the vultures that your sisters were, their eyes landed on you. Blinking owlishly at them, you noted Feyres smirk. Nesta had a raised eyebrow as she rested her head on her intertwined fingers. Elain had her hands folded neatly in front of her. This just became an interrogation. "…what?" You ask, looking around to see if there is a reason why they're looking at you like this. Your heart beating a mile a minute, and you tried to subtly wipe your now sweaty palms on your dress. “Did I do something?”
"Let's get to the real tea." Feyre grins, setting her drink down and putting a hand on yours. She knew physical touch was one way to help you calm down. She’d offended used it to help comfort you as a child. "What is going on with you and Azriel."
You blink again and suddenly- you can't help the laughter that erupts from you. They had truly thought something was going on with you and Azriel! As if it wasn't obvious that Azriel was hopelessly in love with Elain! You wave away the ridiculously thoughts coming out of your sisters mouths. “You guys are ridiculous" You laugh, sighing heavily as you continue to grin. "Nothing is going on between us."
"He meets with you every Friday for hours," Elain says sharply. Her tone catching you and your other sisters off guard. And for a second, your hurt. Hurt that she could ever use that tone with you, not believe the words you were saying. "Something is going on."
Your eyes lock onto Elain's and there's anger in hers. She's upset about it, upset that you made a friend. She had friends! She had Cerridwen, and Nuala! The was two more than you had. Ever. Your nose wrinkles in disgust as you watch how she tries to intimidate you into answering her. Was this how you looked that first night in the Library? Is that why Azriel laughed at you? Elain looked as harmless as a kitten. "Nothing like your thinking." You reply cooly, trying not to start a fight with your sister. That was the last thing you wanted to do, and Cauldron. It would ruin the friendship you and Azriel had just started to form. That hot headed, stubborn Archeron temper didn’t need to come out now. Not when there was another hardheaded and stubborn Archeron in front of you.
"So then it shouldn't be a big deal to tell us." Elain snaps back. Nesta and Feyre exchange a look at the two of you. You can feel your blood boiling at her tone. But you knew you had to stay cool, calm and level headed. So as gingerly as you can, you reply.
"It's none of your business." And you would have thought you just insulted Elain by the way her face twisted with rage. She puts her hands on the table and stands with a swift, graceful movement. The chair loudly scooting out from behind her, dragging attention to the table. But Elain didn’t seem to care. Staring at you with fire in her eyes, like logs on a campfire.
"As your sister, it is. And as someone who is in lov-"
Knowing exactly what was about to come out of her mouth, you feel the ugly green monster boiling up inside you. You couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard you tried. She had a mate. Someone who wasn't Azriel. What happened when Azriel found his mate? What then? Would she demand that he stay away? It was ridiculous. An absolute ridiculous thing to say and expect of someone else. In a less graceful, more forceful way. Your chair shoots out the same way, and you thank the mother Feyre grabbing it before it could fall. You match Elain's actions as you glower at her. Surprised by how low your voice had gotten, "You have a mate. That you claim you don't love because you simply refuse to get to know him. Lucien is a kind man, he gets you a Winter Solstice present every year and tries to make it as thoughtful as he can while knowing so little about you. He is allowing-"
"Allowing?" Elain laughs shortly, "I should be grateful for him allowing me to reject him?" Her eyes bare into yours as if she is trying to find any little thread to unravel you with.
"Have you even told him you rejected him!?" You shout back at her. You hadn’t meant to raise your voice, people were usually quiet, and gentle with Elain. And here you were screaming at her in a bar…
Elain's face drops but it doesn't stop you from going in again, despite knowing you had made your point. This was about more than just her rejection of Lucien. It was about the lack of care and compassion your sister showed a man who tried to help her. "He is allowing you space- which you asked for, mind you! He could be all over you; there are horror stories of mates, Elain! But instead of trying to get to know him you instead clung onto someone else. And what? You're in love with someone else's mate? Lucien is a good, kind man. And it’s also not his fault that you were mated from the moment you stepped out of the cauldron. But he tried to be there for you. Badgered us about getting you food and sunlight. Even now! He writes you letters, but do you ever answer? Do you give him the time of day? I’m not saying you owe him your affection, but I am saying he deserves a mate who is willing to try.”
The table is silent for a moment. Letting your words hang in the air before Elain holds her head higher. "Mates do not have to be accepted."
"Elain." Nesta snaps, "Y/n has a point. You are in love with someone else's mate. You see how happy Cassian had made me, helped pick up my broken pieces! Showed me love while I healed. How happy Rhys makes Feyre! Giving her a life she could have never dreamt of. You can't so easily dismiss Lucien without at least trying."
"Oh, and you were one to so easily accept your mate?" Elain lashed out. Her eyes turning slightly misty. You quickly exchange a glance with Feyre who looks just as concerned as you. And the hurt on Nesta's face was there for just a split second before she steeled herself and opened her mouth-
"He's been teaching me how to read." You answer the first question quickly, looking down at your glass. Your reflection reminded you of your younger years again. Your sisters arguing at the table as you ate a meal you prepared. Trying to keep from your cheeks redding as your sisters turned to you. You could just imagine their expressions, shocked, disappointed and maybe a little upset you hadn’t asked one of them. Not being able to read was the last thing you wanted to admit, but you'd rather embarrass yourself than have them at each other's throats. There had been so much fighting in this world recently. There didn't need to be more. The fighting didn’t need to be between sisters. You dared to look up at them, Feyre was smiling gently as she reached out and took your hand. Giving a gentle squeeze. She understood you the most, both of you didn’t have the education that the other two did. Nesta looked at her water, frowning and contemplative. It was almost as if she looked guilty. Elain found a spot on the table interesting. The silence was too heavy, so you continued, "He realized the book I always carried around…he realized I wasn't reading it. And so he tricked me, got me down into the library, and made me try to read…ever since then he's been teaching me…"
"You know, Rhys also taught me how to read." Feyre supplies to help ease the tension. “By making me write about how handsome and charming he was.” Nesta and you snort, rolling your eyes affectionately at your brother in law. Feyre takes your hand better, giving another squeeze. “And now I can read and write just fine. And I would bet good money that Azriel is a better teacher than him." She winks. You gave her a thankful smile.
"He says we can move onto chapter books soon…" A small smile spreads across your face as you recount what had happened just a few hours earlier. "Maybe I can join your book club then, Nes." You look at your oldest sister in hopes of pulling her out of her thoughts. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel guilty about it, your father should have picked up the slack. Not her. Nesta looks up at you, smiling back at you with a softness rarely seen.
"If you can handle it." She shrugs with a half committed grin. After another beat of silence she sighs, reaching across the table to take your other hand. "I'm sorry. Like Feyre, I had no idea where your lessons started and how much you knew…"
Shaking your head, you squeeze her hand. "It wasn't your job. You were a child just like me. If anyone should have stepped up it was Dad. And besides, reading wasn't going to help us get out of poverty. We did what we could. And now, we have a life of comfort…" You give another thankful smile to Feyre. "Thanks for mating the most powerful High Lord in Prythian." You tease, your sisters laugh unexpectedly at the comment. It was a strange thing to thank Feyre for. There was so many things you could have thanked her for- and yet you chose her mate. But Feyre didn’t seem to mind, she welcomed it with open arms. Bowing her head as if to say ‘you’re welcome.’
Then, when the laughter died down, you look over at Elain, "And if you want me to stop the lessons with Azriel then I will. I'm sure we can get me a tutor now that I know the basics."
Elain raises her head to look at you and then sighs. Shaking her head, "No. You're right. I haven't been fair in demanding attention from Azriel, giving him my heart so easily when…when I haven't given my own mate the chance. Truthfully, I'm just scared. To lose someone like I lost Greyson. I thought… I thought for sure Greyson would love me no matter what. I thought our love was stronger than just some pointy ears. And,” She pauses as she purses her lips. Nesta gently rubs her back, Feyre takes her hand as you take the other. Gathering around her in support. “And i’m scared that something with happen to Lucien as well. I see how much you love your mates and I just- I just couldn’t bear to loose anyone like that again.” Elain lets out a shaky breath at her confession, squeezing you and Feyre’s hands. “Azriel would be a good partner. I know to expect him to leave at times…" She leans back into the chair and lets out a whistful sigh, "Plus he's hot."
That gets the table to erupt into laughter again, "As if Lucien isn't?" You ask playfully.
"Oh please, Illyrian men are the way to go." Nesta winks, "They don't talk about the wing spans for no reason."
"Gross!" You giggle as the conversation starts up again, becoming easier between you and your sisters. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
As you arrived back at the River house, laughter still surrounded you and your sisters. The four of you make your way into the living room to continue your fun night, but find it already occupied with the Inner Circle. Spread across the rooms with various wine bottles, and a few snacks scattered about.. "Hello, Feyre Darling." Rhys greets and gets up, taking her in his arms, "We couldn't let you have all the fun. Now could we?" He smirks, looking over at you and your sisters. “Did you girls have a goodnight?”
“Not as good as the one here.” You muse, crossing the room to grab some of the charcuterie board they had left. “Rita’s doesn’t have fancy meat.”
“At least not when you’re not there.” Cassian ribs, elbowing Rhys as he passes by. Rhys’s quip back gets lost in the laughter the ensues from your joke. And as Cassian always does, presses a kiss to Feyre's cheek. He ruffles your hair, causing you to make a small noise of disapproval before quickly smoothing out your hair. He kisses Elain's hand before he pulls Nesta into his arms. Kissing her swiftly, causing you to avert your eyes.
You hear some shuffling and look up to find Azriel coming closer, something you noted he only did when he wasn’t trying to sneak up on people. His footsteps so light that he want to accidentally spook anyone. You smile at him as you notice for once he wasn't in his leathers. But that didn't mean that he wasn't still insanely attractive. It was unfair how effortless it seemed to be for him. A pair of black jeans that were a bit looser than his normal pants but still hugged his thighs, a long-sleeved blue knit shirt that had the sleeves pushed up to show off his forearms. Showing off more scars, His siphon-topped hands shoved into his pockets. Even his casual dress made you feel under and over-dressed at the same time. Your sisters and you usually wore dresses- Nesta and Feyre opted for Illyrian leathers while training. But you had done none of it, so here you stood in front of him in a plain purple sundress. Smoothing out the fabric you looked up at him with a gentle smile. "Did you have a good night?"
Azriel nods, a faint smile from him almost had you trying to catch your breath. His attention focused so innately on you, that nothing else seemed to matter. "Better now that you're here. Rhys and Cass wouldn't stop complaining about how much they missed their mates." He sighs heavily, not revealing the smirk that graces his features to anyone but you. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet giggle, shaking your head at him. His beautiful hazel eyes glimmering with amusement.
"We did not!" Cassian interrupts, pulling you and Azriel from your moment. Nesta still pressed into his arms as she held onto him. "Don't let him fool you, y/n." He pouts, “We weren’t the only ones complaining!”
You raise your eyebrow and look at Elain. She shares the amusement. "Cassian, with all due respect. You are annoying about Nesta even when she's in the next room over." Elain teases and you cover your mouth to stop the bark of laughter. But it’s too late, the room is filled with it.
"Do you hear them, Nessie?" Cassian pouts and barries his face into her neck. "They're being mean to me." Nesta laughs and pats his back. Looking at the rest of you with playful exhaustion.
"You big baby, you can take it." She offers no sympathy to her mate, who only whines in her arms. Causing Nesta to roll her eyes and look over at you and Elain again. "Drama king." She mouths.
And something about the normalcy in your sister's affection, loving her mate so openly. Being held with no reservations, bantering and kissing, and….being loved. Both of them…it causes that ache in your heart again. The crippling loneliness. Even Elain had found a spot next to Mor and Amren, letting them pour her a drink. You can't bear to watch it, it hurts too much. To feel so outside, like a stranger peering through a window. You step away from Azriel, unaware of his his eyes quickly follow you, ensure you aren’t going too far. He’s about to offer an arm when you yawn and stretch. "I think it's time to head up to bed." You give a tight-mouth smile to everyone else and bid them goodnight. Ignoring the boo’s from a tipsy Mor.
Azriel follows you up though. He’d seen the sudden change in your demeanor, almost like you closed yourself off from the family. He didn’t know what was said to you tonight, but he’d assure you til dawn if anything he deemed wrong.
You hadn't noticed him until he cleared his throat, just outside your bedroom door. Causing you to startle as you looked back. "Azriel!" You hiss as you put a hand over your heart with a little laugh. Azriel looked like a kicked puppy, his beautiful hazel eyes wide, eyebrows raised in surprise. You hadn't ever expected to see that look on his face, biting your lip to stop a laugh.
"I'm sorry!" He rushes, "I thought you knew!”
You let out the laugh that you were holding back and shake your head. "Oh, Azriel." You giggle and shake your head as you pat his bicep, the sheer size of it made your hand look downright childish. So small in comparison to all that muscle. "It's alright, don't worry. Did you need something?"
He cleared his throat, in the dim faelighting you could have sworn that you saw a blush creeping up on his cheeks. You pushed away the thoughts of how adorable he was. "I, wanted to make sure that you were okay." He whispers as he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, refusing to meet your gaze. Watching how it darts around like he is growing more and more anxious by the second. You had never seen the Spy Master like this- so flustered and awkward. It made you wonder what he and the rest of the Inner Circle talked about while you were gone today. Cassian mentioned someone else complaining… was it him? Was he complaining about your lessons?
You blink at his words, finally registering them, before tilting your head. "…yes? Why wouldn't I be?"
"Your sisters all but kidnapped you." He says simply. His eyes finds yours again as he raises an eyebrow at you. Slightly worried that you might have forgotten. His eyes also shine with amusement as he recalls the way they'd shown up. Only for himself to be bombarded when he returned to the River House as well. No doubt Feyre, Rhys, Nesta and Cassian’s doing. Nosy fuckers. "Nesta was…" Azriel shivers as he recalls her glance. Shaking his head you laugh again at his reaction, patting his arm again. He couldn’t help but also notice the size difference between you two and it drives him up a wall.
"They just wanted to know my intentions with you Azzy." You wink, and on the Shadowsingers face was definitely a blush. "Don't worry I assured them it was nothing but evil, evil plots of learning how to read to start a coup." You continue to tease him.
Azriel glares lightly at you, but any harshness in his eyes soften the minute you giggle so hard you snort and lean into him. Resting your forehead on his chest- the closer you’d ever been to him. The way you did so in such a simple, effortless way…touching him and laughing like it was the easiest thing in the world. His heart races out of his chest as he looks down at you, shocked as he doesn’t quite know what to do, his shadows curling around your ankles and his hands on your hips to keep you from falling back as you laugh- still dazed by the pure beauty of…you and it snaps. The mating bond. You were his mate.
His.
From now until the end of time. You were his, and he was yours. And it suddenly felt like everything in this world made sense. Holding you in his arms would feel like home, never again would it feel like he didn’t have a place in this world again. Because his place was next you. Starting from this day on. Now and forever. It feels as if his entire life had been an endless storm, constantly searching for salvation only to find it in your smile. The darkness that enveloped him washed away by your laugh. The self deprecating thoughts eased by a touch of your hand…there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you. The snapping of the bond felt as if though part of him had truly become complete. There was no greater honor than being yours. So holy dedicated to you.
If he were a lesser man, he would have surged forward and pressed his lips to yours. Needing to feel the touch of your skin against his. Giving in to his primal instincts. Tugging you closer as you both accept the bond and two- became one. Over, and over, and over again until you couldn’t move anymore.
But Azriel looks at you as you smile up at him. So innocent in the way only someone who had no idea what dirty thoughts were coming through his mind. Completely unaware of what you had just done to him. How you now had him wrapped around your finger forever and always. And then, like a freight train crashing he realized.
It hadn't snapped for you…
"Goodnight Az." You whisper as you lean up, one hand delicately on his chest, the other squeezing his forearm to help keep you steady, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'll see you in the morning." With that, you stepped into your room closing the door. Leaving Azriel in the hallway alone, again. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── a/n: This one was really fun to write! Also, if you guys wanna know the dress I was picturing for the reader, its this one here. If yall have anything you wanna see, or wanna be added to the taglist let me know! tag list: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92 @lana08 @stained-glass-eyes0708 @oucereeng @persephonesalvatore @fightmedraco @juniperberriesaries @whatdoyxumean @harrystyke21
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bitchimasnake-sss · 2 days
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Imagine telling op guys who has a crush on you, that you want to sleep with them. You just plop down next to them cuddle into them and fall asleep. It's just hem turning red and trying to calm down their thoughts
hehe, this is legit so cute. (tweaked the prompt to be a little more suggestive than just thoughts in the end.)
not a dream ft. the monster trio!
set-up: as anon asked! you happened to utter five simple words, "can i sleep with you?" to the op boys (who have a crush crush on you). now these idiots are contemplating if they'd make it out alive.
warnings: includes nsfw thoughts!! no actual things happen but the guys are thinking very very perverted shit, so, if not comfortable please skip!!!
luffy:
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💗 you know luffy. do you think luffy— the guy who clings to everyone, doesn't know the word "personal" and "space", who will probably hug you even if you threatened to punch him— will really mind if you told him you wanted to sleep with him? fuck no. even if you stood in front of him with a "i like you, i wanna sleep with you" in a suggestive way, he would say something along the lines of "awh, i like you too. let's sleep."
💗 but well, this was different. cause he liked you. so when you decided to show up at his door after dinner with a cranky look, he was both confused and intrigued. "what's wrong with ya?" he mumbled as you sat next to him on the bed. "chopper and ussop. ugghhh." you groaned, "they're doing some stupid shit next door and making so much noise. there is no possible way i can sleep there. and im sure nobody else will let me crash with them tonight in their room." luffy would have probably leapt up and gone to join the other two fools had you not sprawled out next to him. you gave him a tired smile, "so, can i sleep with you?" 💗you hadn't even waited for an answer. mindlessly, you draped a hand over his torso and snuggled into his chest. he pulled you towards himself on instinct. this was normal. yeah. hugging a crewate. yeah. totally normal. atleast for him. then why was his heart beating so fast? mouth going dry? why was sweat clinging uncomfortably to his back although he knew the night air was frigid. 💗you shifted and your chest brushed against his. luffy swallowed wantonly as you shifted again. and then one more time. trying to find the most comfortable position, he guessed. mechanically, you pushed yourself further against him. and this motherfucker went as stiff as a washboard. "luffy?" you mumbled against his skin before tracing your eyes upward. from this position, your doe-eyes bore into his, "you don't mind right? it's just really cold, sorry." how could he mind? your soft body was against his. your fingers drummed faint melodies against his back and your hair smelled like some floral scented shampoo. every time you breathed out, the warm air caressed him and goosebumps painted his hands. he felt your peaked chest brush against his again and he almost swallowed his own tongue. "luffy?" you asked again, your voice saccharine. and he vaguely wondered how would the same voice sound if he tore open that flimsy top your were wearing and held your soft skin against his palm. or if he took the courage enough to dip his fingers below the waistband of your pajamas and felt you up. would you say his name like that? 💗 well, fuck. this was the captain had thought so much in his entire life. and it was thoughts about feeling up his crewmate's tits. and as a result of such vigorous thinking, a problem had arose in his pants. he tried to think it away. tried thinking about sea-kings or hideous devil-fruit users. of alvida. or anyone else. he even tried to think of food so that his attention could be diverted. but even the most tastiest of sanji's pudding couldn't take away the throbbing in his cock. and the delicious feeling of your soft skin next to his. as a last resort, he prayed that you wouldn't shift more and feel his dick against you. he prayed you would take his silence as rejection and simply drift off to sleep. but ofcourse, this is a godless land. because you moved again. and when you felt his hand-on against your thigh, you looked up at him. lips caught between your teeth, you looked up at him. blinking up at him almost innocently, you asked, "got a problem, captain?" before he could answer, you pressed forward, "i think i can fix it." on the other side of the ship nami burst into chopper and ussop's room. when she yelled, it probably could be heard over the entire ship, "LET US SLEEP, YOU MORONS. WE HAVE A LONG DAY TOMORROW. GO SLEEP OR I'LL FINE YOU BOTH A MILLION BERRIES PER MINUTE THAT YOU'RE UP." you're not sure if it was chopper or ussop crying in the distance. but oh well, good for you that ussop and chopper are such morons.
zoro:
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💚zoro's not even fucking sure how he ended up like this. he's sure it involved some higher-than-tolerable level of alcohol for both the parties involved. and he's sure it must have been your idea that he had drunkenly complied with. "let's sleep together" "okay" what was he thinking? because right now, you were sprawled against his chest. both of you were on his bed. his shirt was off, yours was barely on. a bit of drool peaked out from the corner of your lips. and he found himself quietly rubbing it away with the pad of his thumb, smiling softly to himself. ew?! was he still drunk?? as the realization set in, he pulled his hands back in wicked horror and looked around as if someone had seen him. it was still night. and in the middle of the night, the effects of the cheap booze must have wore off of him and he awoke to you as his bed. on him. 💚"hey." he tried to shake you awake but you just groaned, sinking further into him. he hissed when you buried your face against his bare skin. he whisper-shouted, ignoring the goosebumps on both of your skins, "wake up. go back to your own room, woman." but you didn't shift an inch. instead, you stayed buried against him. 💚he groaned but when his eyes fell back to your face, he couldn't help but fight off the impending blush that crawled up his face. your hair was a mess and your cheek was squished against his chest. you breathed softly and sometimes, your fingers twitched against his skin and you touched him fleetingly. and you were warm. too warm for his liking. he tried to look away but his hand carefully came up to your face. staying there not a moment too long, he dragged it downwards. over your shoulders and over your back. he stopped before he went too far and grabbed your ass, the curve so delicious in his eyes. but he stopped, pulling his hands back to lay on the linen sheets. he was a horny man, not an evil douche. 💚but you must have been hell-bent in proving flaws in his moral-code, because you shifted and your pelvis shifted over his. he bit back a grunt at the movement over the fabric. you were so cozy against him. the way you brushed up against him, the way your hair tickled him. would you like it if he pulled your hair? would you moan? god, what would you sound if you moaned out his name? he was a bad man. thinking all of those things. and he tried to focus on anything but the blood-rush to his dick, really. but the way you started moving against him, almost mechanically. that made all attempts to ignore his boner disappear. his hips moved upwards and he closed his eyes, giving into the friction of you against him. and soft moans fell from his lips. 💚"zoro?" you mumbled sleepily, rubbing your eye. you strained your neck up and he looked down at you, dazed. "you okay, zo?" when he found himself unable to talk and you found a harsh roll of hips under you, you connected the dots. a playful smile tugged on your lips, "need some help?" "no." "fine." you shrugged, clamoring off him, "i should go back to my room. the crew will freak out if they find us like this." "no." he caught your wrist, tugging you towards him, "stay. i could use some help." 💚in the morning, sanji walked into the swordman's room to see if the moron could find you somewhere. since you were nowhere to be found on the ship. what he found, instead, was you and him tangled in the sheets. when you and zoro had finally made it to the breakfast table, sanji may/may not have been crying. luffy, ussop and chopper were laughing in the background. nami decided it was a good enough reason to even high-fived zoro. it was an awkward breakfast.
sanji:
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💙sanji was probably in heaven. yes, that's the only explanation. sure, the ship was en route to alabasta but he was on his way to heaven. because there's no way you had come seeking him out in the middle of the night. you had said, "i can't sleep." "oh?" the cook had wordlessly stepped aside and you took on the opportunity to slip in. he shut the door behind you, "can i help you then, love? want me to cook something?" "i would have really not bothered you but i don't know who else to ask. nami and vivi are sleeping together and the bed's not big for the three of us." you rambled, "and zoro probably showered five months ago. and luffy, ussop and chopper are passed out in the common room. so... can i sleep with you?" it's a miracle he didn't pass out on hearing those words. it's an even bigger miracle that that was three hours ago and he had still not passed out. now, sanji lay next to you— as stiff as a corpse— while you snored. 💙your body shifted and your hands reached out towards sanji. your palm ran up and down his torso as to check if he was there. and once you had gotten a confirmation, you scooted in his direction and sanji held his breath as if one wayward puff of air will wake you up. vinsmoke sanji was trying. he was trying o maintain his composure, to not pull you into his chest. he was trying not to think about the way your chest will feel against his, the way his fingers will glide over your thighs, the way your hand will fit around his dic— 💙and it was as if you could hear his wretched thoughts. because your hands moved over his torso. gliding up and down. you leaned into his touch, molding your body against his. you might have been having an interesting dream cause he saw your hips gently rocking, your thighs pressed harder and you eyes clenched shut. you buried your head into his chest and the smell of your shampoo seemed to turn him on more. he ignored his weeping dick, decided to pay it no mind. but all of that resolve crumbled when he heard you moan his name into the fabric across his chest. your nails dug into his shoulders and your nose buried as deeply as it could against his skin. 💙 he gently guided his fingers to your thighs. and you shook under his soft touches. his thumb softly brushed over your clothed pussy and bucked towards his hand. he could probably just feel you up and you'd let him— "—shit." sanji quickly brought his hand back, realizing that you were sleeping and out of it. even if your lips chanted his name, he couldn't do the things his mind was convincing him to do. because if he started, he wouldn't stop. 💙so, to get himself rid of such sinful thoughts, he decided to hide in the shower and pump at his hard cock till he was tired. till you crawled out of his head. till your voice stopped ringing in his ears, making his cock impossibly harder. he slowly pushed you away, trying to climb off the bed. but as soon as you felt his warmth disappear, you cracked open an eye, "sanji?" "uh" his face went red, eyes averting, "just going to the washroom. i'd be back." you sat up, "did i go too far?" 💙sanji's mouth hung agape as you pulled him back into bed, "i thought you wanted me to moan your name like that—" "—wh-what?" "i had a dream." you innocently traced your index nail down his torso and brushed it over his sleeping shorts, "think you can help me?" you blinked up at him, "pretty please." 💙 the next morning, the cook of the crew made the worst breakfast possible. wasn't his fault. all he could think about was you and your breathless moans and your eyes as— "this tastes like shit." the swordman argued. "thEN MAKE IT YOURSELF, FREELOADER." "might as well if you're gonna cook so bad." "—i think it tastes fine." nami sighed, "if i knew you getting some would make you a terrible cook, i would have let (yn) sleep with me and vivi." and the entire ship choked on their (terrible) breakfast.
a/n: i tweaked the prompt a bit (as i was getting stuck with the original ask), but i hope this was good enough anon!! as always, thanks for reading and send in req that you might have <3 (tagging: @bokutosbiceps cause i know you love luffy)
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superhaught · 2 days
Text
Sweetest Girl
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Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Warning(s): slight reference to bad home life for reader?
Word Count: 1700, Part 1/?
Anonymous Asked: hello! I was wondering if I could request a regina x fem!reader fic where the the reader is known as the sweetest girl in school that everyone loves and regina is like “what’s so great about her” and just ends up falling in love with her
Enjoy! I intend to keep this one going :D
Regina knew that she wasn’t excelling in her chemistry course this year but she certainly didn’t think she was failing. But the teacher asked her to stay behind after class and gave her a solemn look as she explained that with Regina’s most recent test score (which was, admittedly, abysmal), her overall grade in the class would drop from barely passing to failing. 
“Well, what am I supposed to do? I’m a senior, it’s not like I can retake this class!” Regina griped, beginning to feel her stomach turn over in panic.
“Calm down, Miss George. You still have time to improve your grade. I’d recommend that you start working with a tutor. One of your classmates is available for such an arrangement as it turns out. She’s a very gifted student who is doing quite well in this class. She will likely tutor you not expecting anything at all in return. Are you willing to reach out to her?”
Regina crossed her arms in front of her chest, “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”
Regina’s teacher formed a thin-lipped smile, “No, Miss George. You don’t.”
Regina took the slip of paper with the tutor’s contact info scribbled on it from the teacher and left the classroom for her locker in a huff. 
Gretchen and Karen were waiting for her and immediately, Gretchen was hounding the blonde in concern, “is everything okay, Regina? What did the teacher want?”
Regina sighed, “I’m failing. I need a tutor, I guess.”
“Oh no!!!” Gretchen exclaimed. 
Karen tapped into the conversation in a brief moment of focus and said, “don’t worry, Regina. I failed chemistry last year and had to be tutored, too.”
Regina rolled her eyes, “yes Karen, and you fucked your chemistry tutor instead of studying.”
Karen smiled, “oh yeah!”
Gretchen chimed in, “well, it’s going to be okay Regina. I bet you’ll do really well if someone can take their time to explain the concepts to you. Do you know who will tutor you?”
Regina nodded, “yeah, the teacher gave me this name. Someone in my class.” Regina passed the slip of paper to Gretchen. 
When the small brunette read the name she made an excited sound, “oh! I know her, she’s the sweetest ever! You’ll like her Regina. She’s like, the nicest girl in the school.”
Regina narrowed her eyes and snatched the paper back, “why would I like the nicest girl in school? She sounds like a try-hard… What makes her so great?”
-
You were enjoying your lunch outside in the courtyard because it was a sunny day out. You scrolled through your phone and an email notification caught your eye so you opened it right away. The email read: Hey, I need a chemistry tutor. Teacher gave me your name. Can you? -Regina George
Oh, wow. You thought. Regina George wants me to tutor her?
You typed your response back and sent it off with a whoosh: Hi Regina, I’m happy to help! Do you want to meet to go over logistics today after school? I’ll be in the library if you want to swing by :) you can also feel free to text me if that’s easier
You sent Regina your phone number at the end of the email and in a few minutes, you got a text from, presumably, Regina. She said, “okay whatever” then another few seconds passed and she sent another text, “this is Regina, obviously.”
You responded, “haha yes, I figured!”
The little bubble that indicated she was typing popped up for a long moment and then disappeared. Then it popped back up and turned into a simple text, “k.”
-
Later that same day, you were sitting in the library doing your homework in the welcome peace and quiet. As you were working, you saw the blonde out of the corner of your eye. 
Regina walked down the half staircase into the library and flipped her hair over her shoulder, her tote bag hung from the crook of her elbow, and her other hand held an iced latte notably not from the student-run cafe but instead from the Starbucks down the road from the school. 
Regina approached your table and plopped her bag down on the floor and pulled out the chair across from you, “went to get a coffee before meeting you, hope you don’t mind. You didn’t want anything did you?”
You smiled and shook your head, “I don’t mind, and no thank you, I’m okay. I don’t drink coffee.”
Regina raised an eyebrow as she sat down, “you don’t drink coffee? How do you survive?”
You laugh lightly, “I guess I’ve never really needed it, and I prefer tea anyway.”
“Huh…” Regina didn’t seem satisfied with your answer but she dropped it, “so, do you just stay here to do homework after school?”
“Usually, yeah! I like to get as much done as I can before the library closes.”
“Why would you want to spend more time in this godforsaken school?”
You swallowed hard, “Oh, um… just ‘cause.”
“Kay…”
“So, do you want to talk about tutoring for chemistry?”
“Sure.”
“Okay great, do you know how often you want to meet or how many hours you want to do per week?”
“Christ, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay!” You assured her, “let’s just start with two hours a week for now. We can meet twice a week for one hour each and see if that feels good or if we need to work more or drop down to just an hour.” 
“Alright.”
“Does this time work for you?”
“Yeah.”
“And what about another day in the week?” You asked.
Regina shrugged, “Thursdays?”
“Perfect!” You jotted down a note of the schedule in your planner.
“Do you tutor a lot?” Regina asked, then sipped her coffee.
“Not super often. When I do, it’s usually because a teacher recommended me.”
“Are you like a teachers pet or something?” 
“I don’t know, I just like helping.” 
Regina was silent for a moment. She was considering you. Examining you. 
“So for chemis-“ you began.
“You know, it’s like weird how nice you are. Like, it’s off putting.” 
“Oh… off putting?”
“Yeah, ya know. Like you don’t have to be nice all the time, or for free. Not everyone deserves kindness.” 
“I mean, I disagree, but-“ 
“I can pay you, you know. For tutoring me, I mean.” 
“You don’t have to, though. I don’t need you to.” 
Regina scoffed, “you’re just gonna give me your time and energy for nothing?” 
“Yes. I just want to help. It’s not transactional.” 
“Oh, you sweet thing. Everything is transactional. Maybe you don’t want my money but you expect to get something out of this, don’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t.” 
You were frustrated, “how do you know that? You don’t know me or what I’d do!” 
“No one does anything for free. No one performs a service for free. No one is that nice.” Regina took another drink of her coffee. 
“Are you trying to ruin this?” 
Regina raised an eyebrow again but was quick to respond, “am I making you mad?” 
“You’re frustrating me. I’m just trying to do a nice thing.” 
“So you don’t want me to question your motives?” 
“No! I mean…” you huffed angrily, you felt your cheeks grow increasingly red and hot, “there is no motive.” 
“I don’t believe that.” 
“Look, do you want my help or not?” 
“I want to be tutored. What I don’t want is to owe you anything.” 
“You don’t owe me anything!” 
Regina’s expression turned into the slightest smirk as she stood up from the table and grabbed her tote bag off the floor, “I’ll meet you again on Thursday to review this week’s course materials. When I see you again, I expect an answer about what exactly it is you hope to get out of doing this for me.” 
With that, Regina turned and left the library, her hair swishing behind her. 
You hadn’t noticed until then, but you had crumpled up a piece of paper in your hand during that conversation. 
-
Thursday came around too soon for your liking. You had no answer for Regina’s demand, other than the truth, which you didn’t want to tell her. 
At 4:05 pm sharp, Regina waltzed down the stairs into the library once again, tote bag in hand, removing her sunglasses in an elegant motion, a drink carrier from Starbucks with two drinks in her other hand. 
You watched as Regina gracefully spit her chewing gum into a trash can on her way while walking up to your table.
She took one of the cups out of the drink carrier and set it down in front of you, “chai latte. Is that okay?” 
Your jaw dropped open a bit as you stared stupidly at the drink and then back up at her, “y-yeah… that’s really nice, thank you.” 
Regina didn’t sit down, “do you have an answer for me?” 
You sighed, “you really won’t accept that I just want to help you out?” 
Regina wordlessly shook her head. 
You looked down at your hands and saw that they were shaking slightly, so you hid them under the table in your lap and kept your eyes averted from Regina as you whispered, “I do what I can to avoid spending time at home.” 
Regina remained silent. 
You looked back up at her. Her jaw was set and she had a severe expression. You watched her exhale a heavy breath through her nose, nostrils flaring, then she sat down across from you and dropped her bag onto the floor. 
“Okay,” she said simply. “Let’s get started then.” 
-
You spent the next hour reviewing that week's chemistry lessons with Regina. 
When you decided to stop for that evening, Regina reached across the table and wrote something into your notebook. 
“There, that’s my address. You don’t have to check in with me, or anything, you can just come over whenever you want to.”
“Regina, are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. My mom loves having company to entertain, and there’s plenty of space in my room for you to be comfortable and do work.”
“I… I don’t know what to say.”
“How about, ‘thank you?’”
You laughed and nodded, “thank you, Regina. Really.”
The blonde stood up and returned her notes to her bag, “‘course. See ya tomorrow in class.”
“See you then…”
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enthusiasticharry · 2 days
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the one where YN has a one-night stand, who turns out to be her boss at the hospital where she now works.
author's note: surprise!! doctor!harry is here to surprise you! i know i've been radio silent for a while, and i apologise for that but work has been so busy recently that i've not had a minute to myself. but i've found it, and i've spent it writing this for all of you! thanks for all ya support!
word count: 10K of smut, fluff, angst and everything in between (and also harry being the cutest paediatric doctor anyone has ever seen)
let me know what you think of good omens here! mwah <3
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#1
The first time it happened was completely accidental. Well, as accidental as sleeping with a co-worker could be. A co-worker who she didn’t know was a co-worker just yet.
It was YN’s first day as a paediatric surgeon in a new hospital, in a new town and she couldn’t save him. She couldn’t save him. He was twelve years old. It wasn’t the first time that YN had lost someone, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. But, for a day that was supposed to be filled with new beginnings — ones that were supposed to last — it just didn’t feel like a good omen in YN’s eyes.
That’s how she ended up at the bar, on her third or fourth drink of god-knows-what when she knew that she shouldn’t. YN knew, in the back of her mind that there was no way that she could have saved that boy, no matter what she did. It was too late, and she had done her best but today her best just didn’t seem good enough.
When the handsome stranger sat next to her she didn’t think anything of it at first. He ordered his drink and just sat there. He didn’t look at YN, and YN didn’t look at him. They just sat there. From the sparing glance that YN took of the man he was attractive but that wasn’t on her mind right now — how could it be?
That was until her drink was placed on the bar in front of her, when she had just finished hers and she hadn’t asked for a new one. YN cast her eyes on the bartender, who just motioned in the handsome man’s direction. YN turned to him, and this time instead of facing forward he was looking directly at her. YN’s eyes dropped down to the drink in front of her one last time, before looking at the mystery man again who was smiling, a very pretty smile at that.
“Looked like you needed it,” He shrugged, lifting his own drink to his lips, and taking a sip.
YN scoffed a laugh, “I don’t take drinks from strangers.”
“Smart girl,” The man nodded before turning back to the bartender, “But Benny can vouch for me, can’t you Benny? Went straight from Benny’s hand to in front of you.”
YN sighed again, dropping her eyes down to the glass in front of her before lifting back up to the stranger.
“First name basis with the bartender,” YN lifts an eyebrow at him, “Come here a lot?”
The man shrugs, “Only when I need to.”
YN sighs, contemplating what she was or was not going to do before she just did it. She picked up the glass and took a sip, placing it down with a slight thunk on the counter. The smile on the man’s face was all she needed.
“I’m YN,” She holds out her hand for the man to shake.
He looks at her, then at her hand and drops his into it, “I’m Harry.”
An hour later YN had hardly made it through her front door before his lips were on hers. The door shut with a bang, one that YN would have probably cared about if she wasn’t being hoisted up against it. Harry’s hands slipped down from her waist to her ass until he was gripping her thighs and lifting her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, but the entire time their lips never left each other.
“Bedroom,” Harry mumbled against her lips, before starting an assault down her neck.
“Down the hall,” YN gasped, trying to hold in her moans as his teeth nipped along her neck.
They bumped into a few things along the way, a chest of drawers that was conveniently placed right outside the entrance of her bedroom and then the doorway that neither of them could have moved. When they did make it into the room, it wasn’t long before Harry’s lips were back on hers.
“You sure about this?” Harry murmurs against her lips and YN pulls away.
“I am,” YN runs her hands down through Harry’s hair until it is at the collar of his blazer, “Are you?”
“Hell yes,” Harry reattaches his lips to hers just as her hands slip from the curls at the nape of his neck before they run themselves along the collar of his blazer and help him shrug it off. YN brings her hands around the front to the collar of his shirt now, unbuttoning it from the top down to the bottom until she can pull that off his body also.
Her eyes widen in surprise at the ink across his chest and arms. From what she could see (which wasn’t a lot with his blazer and shirt on) she hadn’t suspected his body to be littered in the dark ink, and she couldn’t help but run her fingers along the ink, following the designs with her fingertips.
“Tattoos?”
Harry chuckles, tapping her chin with his finger so she moves her eyes up from his chest to his eyes. Her body nearly gave out in that exact second.
“What?” He chuckled, a playful smile toying his lips, “You like them?”
YN just sighed, “Ask me again when I can think straight?”
Harry laughed, leaning back down to kiss her again. His fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt, and they separated for the second it took YN to lift her arms up and for Harry to pull the shirt off of her body. YN moved to unbutton her trousers, a giggle escaping her lips as Harry helped her when they got stuck around her calf.
When YN had dressed for the day, she hadn’t factored this happening at all, and her mismatched bralette and panties (both a soft cotton instead of anything fancy for comfort reasons) weren’t the sexiest and she knew that. But, when her eyes met Harry’s again, and she saw his eyes flicker up and down her body, none of that mattered anymore.
Harry placed a few chaste kisses onto her lips once again before moving down her neck, down to the exposed skin of her breast above her bralette. A shiver ran down her spine when his hands moved around her back, his fingertips dancing across her skin before skilfully unclasping her bra and allowing it to fall from her body, exposing her breasts to him. The material was discarded on the floor, and YN swore she saw his eyes widen at the sight of her chest exposed to him.
He dropped back down to the top of her breasts, kissing and every once in a while nipping slightly. Once he wrapped his lips around her nipple, YN’s entire body lurched forward. Her thighs tried to tighten, just to relieve some of the pressure that was building within her. Instead, YN found herself pulling Harry closer to her by her thighs, the thing cotton of her panties not creating much of a barrier between her and Harry’s crotch. YN bites her lip in hopes of suppressing the moan that was attempting to slip from her lips.
YN can’t help but grind her hips forward towards his, shivering slightly when Harry’s teeth nip over her nipple.
“Harry,” YN almost mewls, her hips bucking up again, “Please.”
“Please what, darling?” Harry taunts, releasing her nipple with a slight ‘pop’.
YN just rolls her hips towards his once more, and Harry seems to get the hint. From there he moves downwards, littering kisses down her ribs and towards the top of her panties.
“Can I?” Harry asks, his fingers moving to the hem of her panties, slipping them just underneath upon her skin. YN shivered, her hips involuntarily bucking up towards Harry’s touch.
“Yes,” YN gasped, the cool air of the room hit the heat between her legs as Harry tucked his thumbs into the sides of her panties, “Please… Harry.”
YN sighed into the feeling of Harry’s lips pressing into her thigh as he pulled her panties completely off. Even though this man was a complete stranger to her – the way that he was looking at her. The way that his eyes danced down her body, the way they looked into hers as he placed kisses on the inside of her thighs, itching closer and closer to the heat inside of her legs – her judgement was clouded as to whether they were actual strangers.
“Am I getting warmer?” Harry jokes, his fingers coming to rest on YN’s stomach, trying to stop the way that she was lifting her hips upwards.
“You’re such a tease,” YN sighed, her body withering once more as he pressed a kiss right on her pubic bone.
Harry just grinned up at her, a playful smirk toying on his lips once more, “Have I found it?”
“You’re there. Bingo. Please.”
One last pleasing look to Harry, and it was as though he dived in. He didn’t even hesitate, his mouth dropped down and his lips attached to YN’s clit. Her entire body lurched forward, and without even thinking her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip to conceal the sounds that were threatening to escape. His lips applied just enough pressure, changing every so often to bring her closer and closer. When his hands reached forward and rolled her nipples between his fingers, she was gone.
“Wanna hear you,” He mumbles against her, the vibrations of his words transferring to her skin, “Need to hear I’m making you feel good.”
“You’re making me feel so good,” YN reassured him, a gasp leaving her lips as he started to flick his tongue against her. YN’s hands dropped down and slipped through his curls, allowing herself to grind against his face. The hand that was rolling her nipple moved to slip down between their bodies. He pulled away for a second, just to rub his pointer finger across her clit before dipping it inside her. YN mewled, her hands reaching out to grasp the duvet beneath her, “Don’t stop, so fucking good.”
The way his fingers and tongue worked simultaneously brought her closer and closer with every movement. YN had never in her entire life had a one-night stand where the first thing the man did was eat her out. It was not only unheard of, but it was divine. The mewls and groans that left her lips were only heightened by his quickening pace, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.
“Harry,” Her thighs attempted to close, only for Harry’s hand (the one not currently inside of her) to push them back open. There was something about him not only bringing her closer and closer to orgasm with his tongue and fingers but also the way he was manhandling her that YN couldn’t handle, “I’m so close.”
He brought his lips away from her clit, only to immediately start rubbing it up and down with his thumb.
“You going to come for me?” He asked, a boyish smile crossing his lips, ones that were glistening with her juices, “Come on. Come for me, baby.”
That one pet name was all that she needed. Her hips were rising from the bed, and her legs started to shake from over his shoulder. She could feel the orgasm from the tip of her toes right up to her head. Small gasps left her body, but Harry worked her through it.
Once the initial wave had stopped, YN dropped her body back on the bed and tried to gain control of her breathing. Harry didn’t wait a single second before he was climbing up her body, so he was hovering over her again, leaning down to capture her lips with hers. She could feel his cock pressing into her leg, and by the slight movement in his hips she knew that he was waiting for his time, and she was more than happy to oblige him.
Her hands snaked down his body, from his shoulders down to his stomach before they toyed with the button on his trousers.
Harry pulled away, only for a second to drop his eyes to where her hands were on his trousers, “You want to do this?”
YN nodded, “Wanna feel you. Need to feel you.”
Harry chuckled, helping her to push his trousers down along with his underwear until his cock sprung out at her.
“Then who am I not to oblige?”
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The next morning YN woke up with a slight pounding in her head. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be, but she guessed the fully drunk bottle of water that was on her bedside table had done the trick. Her alarm had been set for seven, and that sound was the only thing she could hear in her room.
Just as YN was about to peel the covers back off her body and start getting ready for the day — she felt it. It was light, but she could feel it. A leg, presumably belonging to the person that she had just realised was sleeping next to her, just skimming the side of her leg. They weren’t facing each other, but the second that YN turned her head and saw that face looking at her, all the meme flies of the previous night came flooding back to her — work, the drinks, the sex.
Without even thinking she reached her arm out to tap Harry, lifting him from his slumber in a less-than-calming way. His eyes opened for a second before a groan left his lips and he immediately closed them, dropping his head back down to the pillow.
“Harry,” YN mumbled, slipping out of the bed, and clutching a blanket to her body to preserve at least a smudge of the dignity she had left, “I need to go to work, and you need to leave.”
He sighed, turning his head on the pillow to face her again, “What time is it?”
“It’s seven,” She responded, “I need to shower and get ready and I’m going to be late to work.”
Before she could even finish her sentence he was jumping out of bed, leaning down to grab his discarded clothes, and starting to pull them on his body. YN just stood there watching him, still clutching the blanket to her body.
“You’re not the only one that’s going to be late for work,” He sighed, throwing his shirt back on his body and taking quick steps towards her. He stops, leans down, and presses a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll let myself out.”
“Okay,” She nods, not completely trusting herself with her words, but she has no idea why, “Bye.”
“Bye!” He called out and just like that he was out of her room and a few seconds later she heard the front door slam, and he was out of her apartment.
It wasn’t as though she expected anything else — this was a one-night stand after all. However, there was a part of her that wished she had the balls to ask for his number or something. There was a part of her that was disappointed that the man who had given her the best sex she’d ever had didn’t seem interested in wanting her number or rushing out the way he had.
YN’s shock was short-lived, especially when her alarm clock beeped from the side of her, and she had no choice but to get on with her day. Dropping the blanket she made her way into the bathroom, sighing when she saw the state of herself in the mirror.
Despite the lack of headache, her body looked as though it had been through the wringer. Her hair was a mess, knotted and tangled all over the top of her head — just from looking at the front she dreaded to think what the back looked like.
Once her eyes had left her head, they fell to her neck and drew a line down to her breasts. From around her collar gone down she was covered in marks, some of them small and some of them bigger. The ones around her breasts were the biggest, and just the sight of them sent YN’s mind back. She ran her fingertips along the tender skin, reminding herself of the kisses and the touches that they had shared. With a shake of her head, YN pushed all of the thoughts of Harry out, turned her shower on and waited for the water to heat up.
It was her second day. Her second day. Her thoughts weren’t supposed to be clouded by the man she had met in the bar whilst trying to get drunk, trying to forget what a disaster her first day had been. Instead, she wasn’t thinking about everything she needed to do today, or what could potentially come through the door of the hospital that she would need to focus her strength on, she was reliving the night she had just had as she ran her loofah across her skin, tracing the pattern that Harry had taken.
As she stood with the warm water running over her body, she scolded herself for not doing something. She could have said something, anything to ask him, or followed him before he left the flat. But she didn’t, and she would probably never see him again — and she would have to live with that.
Shampooing her scalp helped remove the stress that was starting to build up in her body. Whilst the irrational side of her brain was telling her all of things that she could have done, the more rational side of her brain was letting her know that it was just a one-night stand. That it was just a one-night stand that she was never going to see again, and that was fine. That was fine.
The more YN thought about it, and the more that she scrubbed her scalp (it was starting to potentially hurt at this point) she brushed (scratched) all of these thoughts out of her head. She had to focus on the most important thing here, and that was her second day of work.
Once she was scrubbed and sparkling and fresh from the night before, she dressed and made her way to work. There was something that made YN feel powerful about her line of work. Maybe it was the fact that she got to save lives every day, or maybe it was the fact that those lives were children, but she felt powerful. Yesterday was just a slip-up, and everything will be fixed today she knew it was.
Once she had pulled her white coat on, and attached her I.D. to it, she made her way over to the nurses’ desk where some of the other doctors on the wing were. Iris, one of the trainee specialists that YN had met yesterday and was going to be working under her was already there, flicking through some paperwork for some of their patients for the day.
“You look…” Iris looked YN up and down, “Different.”
“Different?” YN just laughed, “You saw me stressed yesterday. Today I’m not stressed. Today I’m fine. Today I’m ready for work. Today is a new day. Today is a new day, and it is going to be a good day!”
Iris stared at YN, watching as the woman tapped her nails against the top of the desk waiting for Iris to pass her the files for their patients today so she could get on with the day. She could feel today was going to be a good day. No room for distractions, just her and her work.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Iris raised an eyebrow at YN, watching as the girl just smiled at her.
“I’m feeling fine. I’m feeling good,” YN smiled, finally stopping the tapping on the desk to hold her hand out to receive her first patient file, “Now, I have a bladder to operate on in an hour and I need to read my patient’s chart.”
Iris didn’t seem too convinced by her answer but carried on anyway, “I don’t have it. The peds consultant, Dr. Styles just went in for a consult.”
“Oh,” YN looked surprised, looking over her shoulder to look at her patient’s room but she couldn’t see anything through the door, “I haven’t met him yet. How long has it been since he went?”
“He wasn’t working yesterday,” Iris shrugs, “He’s lovely. Really. Everything you expect from someone who has spent years of his life saving kids.”
YN wasn’t surprised at that. There is a certain type of person who worked in paediatrics. These people had to be kind but stern. They had to be strong but compassionate. Being a doctor, or a surgeon anyway was tough but when children are involved, it complicates everything – makes everything more emotional. There had to be a type of detachment in the person – knowing that these patients were children, and there is a certain higher level of emotion attached to them but how you couldn’t let that emotion rule takes guts.
When YN first went to medical school paediatrics was the last thing on her mind, but by the time she had finished, it was the only thing that she could think about. Now – here she was.
“Well, I hope he’s not going to be long,” YN sighs, tapping her nails against the desk again, “Got pre-ops to do, and I don’t really fancy standing and waiting here for any longer.”
“Stop complaining,” Iris sighs, standing up and moving around the desk so that she’s next to YN, “And he’s here.”
YN sighed, pushing herself up and turning around. She was used to the introductions by now. Whilst peds doctors are lovely and have some sort of emotional intelligence they are still doctors, and that comes with some sort of arrogance. All she needed to do was introduce herself and then she could get into the operating room – where she wanted to. That’s all she thought she would do, but the second she turned around she knew that wasn’t going to be the case at all.
“Hi,” He stopped right in front of her, his hand reaching out as though it was going to shake hers, “I’m Dr. Styles.”
Turns out she didn’t need his number. Turns out she was going to be working with him.
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#2
The second that it happened YN had just finished surgery. A kidney transplant on a nine-year-old boy. She was exhausted. She was stressed, and all she wanted to do was go home and go to bed – that was what she needed to do. Just as YN pulled her scrub cap off her head and followed that with a yawn she felt a hand wrapping around her waist. Just a second later she was being pulled into the closest room, which just happened to be a janitorial storage room.
YN sighed, facing the back wall, and taking in the musty scent along with the brooms and mops that were lining the back wall. She didn’t need to know who was with her, and that was the problem.
“You’re avoiding me,” He spoke, and YN still didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to turn around, “You’re avoiding me, and you can’t avoid me.”
YN sighed, “I’m not avoiding you. I see you every day.”
“In consults, YN!” YN ran her hand over her forehead, still looking at the wall, “In consults, where you don’t even look me in the eyes! I’ve tried and tried, and you won’t talk to me!”
“Because you’re my boss!” YN flung around, looking Harry directly in his eyes. The way she raised her voice caused Harry’s eyes to widen, and the way he immediately saw her eyes start to fill up caused them to soften straightaway, “You’re my boss, and I slept with you!”
“YN,” Harry sighs, taking a step towards her with his hand out. Before YN could flinch she pulled away, “You didn’t know that that I was your boss, that is not your fault.”
“You are still my boss, Harry,” She sighs, trying to stop her lips from turning into a frown, “You are still my boss, and I’ve slept with you. You’ve seen me naked! I’ve seen you naked! You’re my boss!”
“YN, you need to listen to me,” Harry was the one sighing now, running his finger across his eyebrow, “You did not know that I was your boss. I did not know you were a surgeon, never mind the surgeon on my staff! We both didn’t know and if we don’t talk this out – we’re not going to be able to work together and that’s dangerous. I know it, you know it. How can we treat our patients, those children out there if we can barely look at each other in the eye?”
YN sighed, knowing that it wasn’t the most sanitary, but she was tired. She dropped down to the floor, her back leaning against one of the shelves covered in cleaning supplies. Harry sighed and dropped down next to her, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Why didn’t you ask for my number?”
YN had interrupted the silence that had washed over them, and Harry didn’t say anything straight away. He turned to look at YN, but she was staring straight ahead – at the other shelves with boxes of cleaning supplies on.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you ask for my number?” She asked again, “Before you left. Why didn’t you ask for my number?”
“I wanted to,” Harry responds this time, but YN still doesn’t look at him, “I wanted to, but I was late. I forgot.”
YN laughed. She couldn’t help it, “You forgot? You slept with me, and then you forgot to ask for my number?”
Harry’s head turned to hers quickly, his eyes laced with shock, “You didn’t ask for mine. You could’ve asked for mine, you could’ve.”
“I could’ve if you didn’t race out of the room like there was a fire under your arse!”
Harry sighed again, looking straight ahead at the shelves. They were in silence again, and then his hand reached out to grasp hers. She tried to pull away, but he didn’t let her. Instead, she snaked his fingers through hers and pulled her hand so that it was resting on her knees.
“Oliver,” Harry sighed, running his thumb over the back of her hand, “The patient that you did the bladder operation on, you removed his tumours.”
“Yeah?” YN sighed, unsure as to where this was going.
“That was my friend's kid,” Harry sighed, not stopping as he ran his thumb over the back of her hand, “Oliver. Oli – that’s what we call him. He’s a bubbly kid, kind, good at sports. He was fine. Then one day he wasn’t. His parents took him to his GP, he said it was a bladder infection. They came to me, and I said the same. I said the same. They begged me to run more tests, begged me. I didn’t, he got worse, and they came back. I ordered the tests and –”
“He had cancer, and I removed his tumours,” YN sighs. Before she could help it, she pulled his hand on top of her knee and ran her thumb over the back of his hand.
“I went to the bar because I was trying to not think about it, and then I saw you,” Harry sighed, shrugging slightly, “And I, for that night could push everything out of my head. I could push the fact that I missed it out of my head. Then I woke up, and I forgot to ask for your number because I was late to make sure that he was alright before his surgery, and I wanted to be there for his parents. Then I saw him, and then I saw you and then I remembered – I should have asked for your number, but it didn’t matter.”
“Because I was here,” She sighed, and he pursed his lips together and nodded, “But then I ignored you because I slept with my boss, and I thought you didn’t care.”
“I did care,” He sighed, “I do care. It was just…”
“It was a bad day,” YN sighed, a small smile gracing her lips, “We all have bad days. I’m sorry for ignoring you.”
“It’s okay,” Harry smiled, “Can we not ignore each other anymore? I know it’s weird that you’ve seen your boss naked but –”
“We’re okay,” YN laughed, “As long that you don’t find it strange that you’ve seen your colleague naked too.”
He joined in with her laughter, the sound filling up the once-silent room. It had been a month of this silence, this lack of communication between them and even though YN was exhausted – she felt better. Once the laughter had died down, YN realised that she was still holding his hand, her thumb still rubbing on the back of her skin.
YN looked up at Harry, her breath catching in her throat when she realised that he was staring right at her. It was as though the room around them had shrunk, pushing them closer and closer together until their faces were only inches apart. They had just made up, and then all of a sudden his lips were on hers.
YN moved, their lips not separating so that she was straddling his lap. The room now wasn’t small, and it wasn’t just filled with cleaning supplies – it was filled with their deep breaths, their moans, the sound of their lips moving against one another. YN’s hands slipped into the curls at the nape of his neck, just as they had done that night a month ago. Harry’s hand slipped underneath her scrubs, grabbing against her waist, and pulling her closer to him.
That feeling was back, the one that she had felt before. The one where it felt good, as though (and she knew how crazy this sounded) that they fit together perfectly. The feeling of his hands on her, and his lips on hers was everything that she needed.
That was until there was a knock on the door.
“Excuse me!” The voice was deep, and not one that YN recognised, “I need to get into my storage cupboard unless you want the entire hospital to be dirty!”
YN and Harry pulled away, a string of laughs escaping their lips as they tried to pull their selves together. Harry pulled the door open once they looked a little more presentable, revealing Mark, the janitor, standing there with his hands on his hips.
“Sorry, Mark,” Harry nodded, clearing his throat slightly, “Bad day.”
Mark scoffed, watching as YN fluttered past them and started to move down the hall. She didn’t move fast enough to not hear him say, “Keep your bad days to the on-call room next time.”
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“So,” It was later on in the day, and YN had managed to get some sleep in one of the on-call rooms before she was back to it. She hadn’t seen Harry since their little adventure in the janitor’s cupboard earlier today, not until right now, “I was thinking.”
“Oh,” YN sighed, continuing to flick through the charts that were in her hands, “That’s dangerous.”
Harry laughed, and that was when YN turned to look at him. He was in his scrubs, his hands in his white lab coat. All YN wanted to do was wish that they were back in that cupboard, mainly so she could kiss him again.
“My thinking isn’t dangerous. I think I come up with brilliant ideas,” Harry leant against the nurses’ station, his body leaning towards her.
“Okay,” YN closed her chart so that she could angle her body towards his as well, “What is this brilliant idea you’ve come up with?”
“I think we should go on a date,” YN’s eyes widened, but before she could say anything to him he carried on speaking, “I think we should go on a proper date. Dinner, or a movie – something. A proper date.”
“This was your brilliant idea?” YN raised her eyebrow, “To ask me on a date?”
“Yes,” He beamed another smile at her, “Properly. We’re going to do this properly.”
YN cleared her throat and took a step closer to Harry so that they were not at a professional space away from each other.
“So,” YN’s eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips, “This whole… doing it properly thing? Does that mean we can’t have sex?”
Just when YN thought he was going to kiss her, Harry stepped away. He walked away from her.
“Harry?” She exclaimed, her arms dropping open.
“We’re doing this properly!” He called back, not even turning to look at her, “I’ll pick you up at eight!”
YN sighed, shaking her head, and watching as he turned the corner out of her view. She turned back to her chart, but before she could open it her eyes caught Iris – who she had completely forgotten was sitting behind the desk when Harry walked past.
“I don’t even know what to say,” The girl spoke, eyes still open wide, “I feel like I’ve just watched some sort of soft porn. I feel like I’m at work, and I’ve just witnessed soft porn with my own two eyes.”
YN laughed, she couldn’t help it, “I think you’re in shock.”
“I think I’ve just watched soft porn between my two co-workers – my two bosses,” She adds, the shock on her face still not wavering, “Never mind that, one of my friends – my best friends, mind that – and her boss, who is also my boss.”
“Iris,” YN clapped in front of her face, snapping her friend out of whatever shock she was in, “You good?”
“I’m good,” Iris stood up, “I just think I’m going to wash my eyes out.”
A few hours later YN was waiting for Harry outside the hospital, dressed in an outfit that wasn’t exactly the best but wasn’t the worst. YN hadn’t expected to be going on a date this morning, but Harry had seen her in her scrubs, so a pair of jeans and a nice top wasn’t going to be the end of the world.
“You ready?” Harry’s hand hovered above her back as he joined her outside the hospital.
“I’m ready,” YN sighed, “I’m ready for our proper date. Can I find out where we’re going on our proper date?”
“Not yet,” He slipped his hand into hers, “I’ll tell you when we get there.”
YN groaned but allowed herself to be pulled to Harry’s car. Harry drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand on YN’s. It felt comfortable. YN hadn’t been on many first dates, but the ones that she had never felt like this. Saying that many of the people she had been on first dates with she hadn’t already slept with, or she hadn’t worked with them.
They pulled up outside what seemed to be a diner of some sort. YN hadn’t lived here long, so she hadn’t explored anyway but her house, the hospital, and the supermarket.
“What is this place?”
“You’ll find out,” Harry opened the car door for her, “Not a fan of surprises?”
“I’m a surgeon,” YN stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Surprises normally equal either more work for me or death. I’m not a fan of surprises.”
“I think you’ll like this one.”
Harry opened the door to the diner for YN, allowing her to step in first like a proper date. This was a proper date.
“Harry!” An older woman called from behind the counter, “It’s so good to see you!”
“Hi, Mrs Chapman,” Harry didn’t even flinch when the woman came and placed a kiss on her cheek, “How are you?”
“I’m fine, doll, how are you?” The older woman pulled away but kept her hands firmly on Harry’s arms, “Still the best doctor that ever lived? My Harrison is doing his exams later this year thanks to you.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Mrs. Chapman,” Harry finally managed to pull himself out of the older woman’s grasp, “Are we okay to sit?”
Mrs. Chapman looked over at YN, then she gasped and nodded, “Of course you are! Your booth’s free, Harry. Let me know if you need anything.”
Harry just smiled, leading YN towards a booth at the back of the diner with a hand on the nape of her back. Each time that YN found out a little bit more information about Harry, it shocked her and didn’t simultaneously.
“Do you leach off a lovely woman whose child you saved?” YN asked, raising her eyebrow as she slid into the booth across from Harry.
“I do not leach,” Harry shook his head, passing YN a menu, “I found this place way before Harrison came to see me. Mrs. Chapman is a lovely woman, who now gives me free food now and then because I saved her grandson.”
YN just sighed, shaking her head, and looking down at the menu again. It had everything that a typical diner would have, but I suppose the thing that made it different from the rest was the connection that Harry had with it.
“Do you come here often, then?” YN asked, deciding on whether she wanted a burger or not, “To be on a first-name basis with the owner?”
“Maybe,” Harry shrugs, not even looking at the menu as though he already knows what he is going to have. He then sighs, “It’s the only place around here that’s open twenty-four hours. I come here because the food’s nice, the people are nice and I’m normally too tired to cook after a shift.”
“God,” YN sighs, leaning back in the booth and crossing her arms over her chest, “If I’d have known this place existed I would’ve saved so much money on crappy microwave meals.”
“Oh,” Harry shakes his head, “No, we can’t be having that.”
“Okay then,” YN drops her menu on the table in front of them, “What do you recommend?”
They end up ordering way too much food than what would normally be appropriate for two people to eat. They had burgers, and milkshakes and god only knows how many different types of pie. The only constellation that YN had for it was that they’d be able to take the leftovers home and that was one thing she loved more than eating out was the leftovers the next day.
“I’m stuffed,” YN sighed, dropping her fork down on her plate. She had just put back a burger, a handful of fries and half of two slices of pie (cherry and apple) in one sitting. In YN’s defence, she had been in the OR for the majority of the day, and that therefore meant scoffing a sandwich in the twenty-minute break she found herself having about six hours ago.
“So, you’re not going to help me finish this last slice of pie?” Harry pouted his lips slightly at her, pushing the plate with the last bit of cherry pie towards her.
YN sighed, but it didn’t take her long to pick up her fork and dig it into the last piece of the pie. YN ate half of it, and Harry had the other half. At that point, YN felt as though she was truly and honestly going to burst now. If it was socially acceptable to unbutton her trousers, she would have done that.
“That’s it,” YN shook her head, waving her hands in front of her, “Stop feeding me. I can’t take it anymore.”
“It was good though?” Harry nodded, “Right?”
“So good,” YN sighed, unable to hold the smile off her face, “I don’t think I’ve eaten this good since moving here.”
“Not much of a cook?” Harry laughed, wiping his hands with his napkin.
YN shook her head, leaning back on the booth. Even though she was having a lovely time, there was a part of her that was exhausted, but she wanted to stay. Even though every muscle in her body, every ache was screaming at her to go home and go to bed – she just couldn’t. She didn’t want to leave; she didn’t want this night to end.
“I’m not much of anything,” YN shrugged, “I’m a surgeon. That’s about it.”
“I don’t believe that,” Harry shook his head, “I believe that, yeah, you’re a surgeon, but I don’t think that’s all there is to you. That’s all I want to know.”
YN sighed, her teeth clamping down on the inside of her lip, “I guess you’re just going to have to wait.”
“I’m going to have to wait?” Harry laughed, “What am I going to have to wait for?”
“Our next proper date.”
Harry’s entire face beamed out into a smile, and YN couldn’t help but join him. In all honesty, whilst there was a level of comfortableness between them there was also a part that made her giddy. It was new and it was exciting and even though alarm bells were ringing for her that this was her boss, she had never felt this way about anybody before.
She didn’t think she ever would again.
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#3
The third time it happened, YN knew that this was going to be for good.
“You’re going to get married, and you’re going to have his babies and get a dog and I’m just going to be watching from the sidelines. Single. With fifteen cats. No husband, no cute kids. No sexy husband that’s good with the cute kids…”
“Iris?” YN interrupts before the girl could carry on her rambling.
“Yeah?” The girl beamed, a sad smile crossing her lips.
“You’re doing it again,” YN sighed, dropping her hands to the top of her charts, “The thinking out loud. The crazy cat lady thing. I know you think that you’re making yourself feel better by speaking into the universe, but it’s just sad Iris.”
“You know what’s sad?” Iris sighed, and that’s when YN saw the glaze over her eyes again, “That I’m not going to have a hot doctor husband, and cute kids, and –”
“That’s it,” YN sighed, picking up her chart and moving away from her boyfriend, “I’m leaving. I can’t listen to this anymore.”
YN had taken all but two steps away from the desk when she felt someone’s arm knock into hers. She didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.
YN and Harry had been living in bliss for the past six months. They had done this properly. They had been on dates, ‘proper’ dates as they had continued to call them, and every day just seemed to get better. That wasn’t to say that they hadn’t had their ups and downs. Two doctors, paediatricians at that, trying in a relationship would have its ups and downs. They were emotional, exhausted, and stubborn. That meant that every so often their heads butted together and it either ended up in them screaming at each other or just sitting in complete silence.
“What can’t you listen to anymore?” He asked, his shoulder brushing hers and they walked down the corridor.
YN sighed, “Iris is having her cat existential crisis again. I told you it was a bad idea for her to get a cat, and what did you say? You said it was a good idea, and now I’m –”
“Woah,” Harry stopped her, placing his hands on her shoulders to calm her down, “Now you’re having the cat existential crisis.”
YN sighed, lifting her hand to scratch her eyebrow, “She’s infecting me. Harry, we have to do something. You must have some single friends. Something. We need to fix this.”
“We don’t,” Harry shakes his head, “I know she’s your best friend and you –”
Whatever Harry was going to say next didn’t matter, and it didn’t matter because a scream came from down the hall. It wasn’t a good scream, and before anything else could be said the two of them were rushing down the hallway and into the room where the scream came from.
It was Paige. She was their latest patient, in for Lymphoma. It was a recent diagnosis – very recent and the girl was crying and screaming.  The nurse looked as though she was going to have a breakdown herself.
“She won’t let us put an IV in,” The nurse sighed, “We’ve tried everything, but she just keeps screaming.”
“It’s going to hurt!” Paige screamed back, wet hot tears streaming down her face as she looked between Harry and YN.
Harry looked at YN and she just nodded, “We’ll take it from here Kathy.”
The nurse nodded, leaving the room, and allowing the door to slam shut behind her. YN flinched slightly, but at the same time she knew how stressful children could be sometimes. She also knew that Kathy was coming off a long shift, and that could also factor into the stress.
“I’m sorry,” Paige’s mother spoke from the corner of the room, her eyes welling up just like her daughters were, “She’s never normally like this. I tried. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Harry smiled, dropping down onto the seat next to Paige’s bed, pulling some gloves onto his hands, “Needles are scary. They’re sharp, and they’re scary.”
“It’s going to hurt,” Paige whined, her chest wracking with more sobs, “It hurt last time, Dr. Styles, I don’t wanna hurt.”
Harry sighed, “It does hurt, I’m not going to lie to you, Paige.”
YN’s eyes furrowed as Harry spoke but shrugged off his jacket at the same time. He pulled the tourniquet out of the unopened IV kit and wrapped it around his arm, pulling it tight.
“It hurts, but only for a minute,” Harry smiled, “Dr. YLN here is going to show you how it’s done, and I’m going to explain every little step. Is that okay, Paige?”
Paige’s tears were still falling, but her breathing had slowed down slightly. YN pulled on another pair of gloves and prepped the needle.
“This rubber band is a tourniquet,” Harry explained, “You’ve probably had one before when you were having your blood taken. You see, it helps us to see your veins,” Harry pointed out the vein in his arm which had popped out. “Dr. YN here is going to insert the needle and… yes it’s going to hurt, and it’s hurting but now it’s not.”
When YN had finished putting the needle into Harry’s arm, she looked back up to see Paige’s tears had stopped and a small smile on her face.
“So,” Harry smiled, pulling the needle out and holding some cotton wool on his arm, “How about Dr YLN goes and gets a new IV kit, and your mother holds your hand whilst I do it, yeah?”
Paige smiles, nodding her head, “Yeah.”
Once YN had brought a new IV kit into the room, she just stood by the door – watching. She watched as Harry spoke to Paige through the IV, keeping the young girl calm throughout the entire thing. Just watching Harry and watching not only how good at his job he was but also how he acted around the children was everything that YN needed to know.
The icing on top of the cake was when he started to tease the young girl, pretending that he didn’t have any lollipops to give her, even though he had some in his coat pocket. YN smiled, watching as the girl who once had tears streaming down her cheeks was now laughing, playing with Harry, and trying to guess which pocket had the lollipops in.
YN walked out of the room with that cheesy smile on her face, trying not to make it obvious the reason why but she knew. Iris was still sitting behind the nurses’ station, and YN stopped in front of her and sighed.
“You’re right,” YN chuckled lightly, “We’re going to have really cute babies.”
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“We did good today,” YN sighed, placing the bottle of wine on the coffee table in front of Harry. YN dropped down next to him, accepting the space underneath his arm to squeeze into.
They had been on their feet a long time today, and just the fact that they were both now curled up on the sofa, with a glass of wine to soften the blow was all YN needed. Paige’s surgery had a few minor complications, but it was nothing that YN couldn’t handle. When Paige had woken up, the smile on her face knowing that she could finally eat the lollipop in a few hours that Harry had given her was enough for YN to know that it was worth it.
“We did,” Harry sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Paige is going to make a full recovery and she’ll be back on her feet in no time – all thanks to you.”
YN sighed, “Wouldn’t have even been able to operate without you.”
Harry just sighed, his lips ghosting over YN’s head. There was a change in the atmosphere, and YN could tell. Harry didn’t say anything else, and YN didn’t know whether he wanted to talk or not.
“You want to talk about it?” She spoke quietly, her finger drawing lines along his knee that was sprawled out in front of her.
Harry sighed against her, pressing another kiss to her head, “Not now. I will later though, I promise.”
“Okay,” YN smiled, reaching out to grab Harry’s hand, “Can I tell you something?”
Harry hummed. YN hesitated for a second, not knowing whether this was the right time to do this or not. But then she remembered today, and she remembered that feeling that she had whilst she had been watching Harry with Paige. She remembered the tightness in her chest, and it wasn’t worry or stress. She knew what it was, and all she could hope was that he’d feel the same way.
“I think…” YN started but then she shook her head slightly, “No, I know. I know that I love you, Harry.”
Harry lifted his head from the top of YN’s head, turning so that she was looking at him. When YN’s eyes met his, she was shocked to see that his eyes were slightly filling up. YN lifted her hand to his face, placing her palm on his cheek and making sure that he was okay.
“I…” Harry started, and YN’s heart pummelled to the bottom of her stomach. She couldn’t tell. She had admitted to the man that she was the love of her life, the man who was it for her and she couldn’t tell what he was going to say. She froze. She froze, and then he smiled, “I love you.”
YN sighed, and it took everything in her to not pick up one of the cushions next to her and launch it at Harry’s head, “Don’t scare me like that again. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”
“What?” He laughed, leaning forward to place a kiss on her cheek and then to the nape of her neck, “What do you mean?”
“Your face, and the silence and –” YN pulled away from him slightly, moving so that there was a gap between them. Until a wave of something covered her and before she knew it she was standing up, “Then the hesitation! You hesitated and you looked like you were going to cry, and then you hesitated to tell me that you love me!”
Harry sighed, sitting up with his knees open in front of her. Harry reached out for YN’s hands, but she pouted and crossed her arms over her chest.
“I love you. I love you more than anything YN, and I know that it hasn’t been long – but I am ready to spend the rest of my life with you.”
YN sighed, but reached out and dropped her hands into Harry’s, “You’re not upset with me then?”
“No,” Harry shook his head, “I just… today, with Paige. That girl. She was so scared, so scared. Her parents were scared, and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’m a doctor, that’s what I am and the entire time all I could think about was you. In the surgery, I wondered how you were feeling, and what you might have wanted for dinner tonight.”
YN sighed, reaching forward to place a hand on his cheek – his face leaning into her touch.
“Harry…”
“I have never, ever not thought of the hospital, and my patients the entire day since I was a trainee. Then you come, and you’re always there – in the back of my mind. I love you so much, YN, and I would never hesitate to tell you that.”
YN didn’t say anything else. Instead, YN took a step forward. She grasped Harry’s face in her hands. His hands snaked around her waist, pulling her body closer until his head was resting upon her stomach. YN’s fingers slipped through his hair, right until they were at those curls at the bottom of his neck that she loved. She could feel his lips pressing tiny pecks into her stomach over her shirt. Using the curls, she tugged lightly to pull his face away from her stomach, and she could immediately lean down and capture his lips with hers.
YN sighed into the kiss, her body collapsing onto his until she was straddling him. His hands picked up speed, slipping underneath her shirt as hers tugged on his hair – their lips moving together at the same rate.
“I love you,” Harry mumbled against her lips, not stopping his kisses for even a second.
YN pulled away for a second, pushing his hair off his forehead, “Then show me… please.”
Harry nodded, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips before helping YN up and off of the sofa. The two of them stumbled into YN’s bedroom quickly, their hands never leaving each other’s body.
It was new, it was exciting, and it was good. It was love.
Harry dropped down on the bed, and YN followed – dropping on his lap just as she had been on the sofa. His fingers fiddled with the edge of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra (it being the first thing to come off her body when she came home), and his lips immediately started placing kisses all over her chest and breasts.
“I love you,” He mumbled against her skin.
“Do you love me? Or do you love my boobs?”
Harry chuckled, his teeth grazing her nipple lightly, “I love you and I love your boobs… equally.”
YN laughed, pushing him away from her body lightly, “You’re such an idiot.”
“I am,” He placed her kiss on her chest, “I’m an idiot,” he placed another kiss on her neck, “But I’m an idiot who loves you.”
Piece by piece their clothing was removed, and whispers and kisses and giggles were shared until they were both naked. They had moved further up so that Harry’s back was pressed against the headboard, YN hovering above him.
Their movements started slow, YN sliding herself down onto Harry’s cock. The feeling was full, and amongst that, it was full of love. Harry’s hands landed on YN’s hips, helping her move whilst YN’s clutched the headboard. YN gasped into Harry’s mouth as she started to rotate her hips.
“Harry,” YN moaned into his mouth, one of her hands leaving the headboard to grasp his shoulder. Harry started to help her, his hips rolling up to meet hers, causing YN’s nails to press into the skin of his shoulder.
“Keep going for me, baby,” Harry mumbled, his head dropping down to YN’s shoulder – his lips grazing her skin, “Come on, keep going for me.”
YN sped up her hips, listening to Harry’s words of encouragement. There was no way that YN could be closer to Harry than she was at this moment, but with each thrust, she wanted to be.
“So wet for me baby,” Harry mumbled, “Doing so well for me baby.”
“Harry, please,” YN whined, her hips moving quicker and quicker with every passing moment, “I need more, I need you more.”
“You wanna switch?” Harry pulls his head up from her shoulder, looking directly into her eyes, “Just tell me, baby.”
YN’s hips stopped and with Harry’s help, she lifted herself off him. YN whimpered slightly at the loss of contact, but the second that she moved so that she was on her back, Harry was hovering over her.
“Harry, please,” YN’s hands clawed at his back, pulling him closer to her.
“You okay?” He asked, one hand on his cock to line it up with her entrance and the other one holding his body up by her head.
“Please,” YN nodded, her hands scratching down his back again, pushing lightly on the top of his ass, “Please Harry, I wanna feel you. Need to feel you.”
Harry didn’t hesitate to push inside of her, taking YN’s breath away. He moved forward so that their foreheads were touching each other’s. This was what YN wanted – what she needed. Each thrust of his hips felt as though he was bringing her closer and closer – not only to her orgasm but also to him.
“Harry,” YN whimpered, moving her lips onto Harry’s, “I love you.”
“I love you.”
Harry picked up the pace, moving his hips faster and faster until he saw the tell-tale signs. YN’s breathing turned faster, and one of the hands that was on his back reached out to the bed next to her, screwing the sheets into her fist. It hadn’t taken Harry long to pick up the signs, listening to all of the signs that her body gave him. Once that switch was flipped, Harry knew exactly what to do.
“It’s okay, baby,” Harry mumbled against her lips, one of his hands slipping down between their bodies so that he could roll her clit between his fingers, “Let go for me, always look so pretty when you come for me – so pretty.”
“Harry, I’m so close,” YN’s hips moved up to meet Harry’s. The mixture of both Harry’s cock inside of her and also his fingers on her clit, speeding the process along – that was all that YN needed. Her orgasm raked through her body, a line of whimpers escaping her lips, along with a string of Harry’s name. Harry coaxed her through her orgasm, not stopping his pace until he saw the signs.
Harry came not long after, his body going rigid against YN’s. Harry’s head leant down to capture YN’s lips with his again, slowing his hips down until he came to a complete stop inside her. He dropped down – his body weight falling upon YN’s. She felt comfort with it, his body weight pressed on hers.
Silence fell between the two of them, and it wasn’t until a few minutes later when Harry moved to slip out of YN that any sound was made in the room apart from the sound of their breathing. YN felt an emptiness inside of her, but once Harry was laid at her side she wasted no time in moving closer to him. She lipped his leg in between his, her arm wrapping around his chest and resting on his shoulder.
“I…” YN started, her finger lifting to run down Harry’s cheek ever so lightly, “Think you’re a good omen.”
“What?” Harry smiled, tilting his head down slightly so that he could look at her, where her head was resting on his shoulder.
“A good omen,” YN shrugged, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I think… you were brought to me to show me that everything is going to be okay.”
“It is going to be okay,” Harry nodded, lifting his hand to brush her hair off her forehead, “Everything is going to be okay.”
It wasn’t that YN believed in anything like that. She didn’t believe in signs before all of this but now. Now, she believed that Harry was her sign. He was her sign.
He was her good omen.
646 notes · View notes
jaegersdevil · 2 days
Text
style [sukuna x fem!reader] summary: a collection of (cute) moments between you and ex!sukuna w/c: 1.9k a/n: bruh idk how these two are STILL exes, but it's a yes from me // yes, another taylor fic because i'm in love with her
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sukuna 12:56am u up?
you audibly groan at the text, face scrunched up in disgust. sitting up in bed, you shove another pillow behind your back. your fingers fly across the screen, but only for a short time.
12:57am fuck off
throwing your head back in anguish, you sigh at the ceiling. and when your phone buzzes again, you brace yourself for the reply.
sukuna 12:57am ladies first 12:58am open the door 12:58am please
despite the abruptness of his text, you fly out of bed and run into the living room of your apartment. you stare down the hallway at your front door and peek at your phone when it vibrates.
sukuna 12:59am quit thinking so hard i'm cold
rolling your eyes, you tiptoe to the door, lifting yourself on your toes to look through the peephole.
and there he stands, pink hair dimmed against the yellow lights of the hallway, his head tilted back. biting your lip, your eyes glance down at his exposed neck, strained as he studies the ceiling.
stepping back, you unlock the three locks on your door (courtesy of the man outside) and pull it open.
your ex stands in the hallway, a sight you've seen too many times to count, and he tilts his head in greeting. "hey, baby."
you grab the sleeve of his sweatshirt and tug him in, locking your door when he's safely inside. when you spin around, he's gone.
you ignore the clink of glasses against one another in the kitchen and head back to your room, rubbing your eyes are you go.
glancing at the clock on the wall, 1:04am, your shoulders visibly deflate. you pull back the duvet and climb into bed after turning off the lamp on your bedside table. facing away from the door, you get comfortable, tuning out the sounds of sukuna knowing this place like the back of his hand.
"i didn't come over for you to ignore me."
you turn over. sukuna leans against the doorframe, sipping idly from his glass.
you flip back around, snuggling your head into your pillow. "i'm sleeping."
"oh, poor baby," he pouts falsely, crossing the room and setting his glass on his nightstand. you shake your head, your nightstand.
when you hear a rustle, you glance over your shoulder. sukuna tugs his sweatshirt and t-shirt over his head and pushes his sweatpants down his legs. you feel your cheeks heat at seeing him in only his black boxers.
he lifts the blankets and slides into your bed, avoiding your eyes as he does so. despite his naturally cocky attitude, along with his annoying habit of suppressing everything he's ever felt, you know him too well.
"c'mere," you mumble, circling your fingers around his wrist. sukuna says nothing and shuffles toward you, wrapping his arms around your torso, head on your chest. "wanna talk about it?"
he shakes his head softly, tightening his arms. "in the mornin'."
you nod, fingers threading through his hair. "okay."
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you wander the building aimlessly, with a lunchbox in your hand and a coffee in the other. you know this place well, though once he got promoted, sukuna moved offices. but you wouldn't call it an office; more of a place to sort through employee contracts and qualifications and watch the cameras around the complex.
he'd complained to you over text that he'd have no time to eat today. so, you took it upon yourself to ensure your ex had an adequate lunch to keep him going, duh.
the sound of your name in that deep voice of his rings down the hall, and you spin around.
"i knew it was you," sukuna tilts his head at you. "what're ya doing here?"
you lift your hands and grin. "lunch."
sukuna stares at you, and you swear you'll melt from the intensity of his gaze. he wears his usual black cargos and a black t-shirt with the company logo on the left breast, but he looks more delicious than ever.
"seriously?" the corner of his lips upturns, and he bites his bottom lip to stop the smile from breaking. he fails. "you're so cute."
sukuna steps forward to wrap his arms around your head, his biceps flexing against your ears.
you smile giddily and circle your arms around his torso, hands hovering over his back. "it's a bento box with rice and steak and those little sausages you like—"
sukuna cuts you off by leaning down and pressing a hot, wet kiss on your lips, and you squeal at the public display.
"kuna..." you turn around the see if anyone is in the hallway to witness.
his laugh is deep and rich, and you can't help but watch the sparkling smile on his face.
"thank you," he mumbles, his smile fading as he becomes serious.
your face heats at his words, shoving the box and coffee in his hands. "just eat your lunch."
sukuna presses a final kiss on your forehead and turns around, returning to his office. "see you at home!"
you shake your head, laughing. "go to your own home, nerd!"
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"sukuna, what are you doing here?" the smile in your voice doesn't go unnoticed. leaving the lab at 8pm was a drag, but it was necessary for your thesis, and sukuna knew its toll on you.
sukuna pushes off his car as you approach, his smirk laced with mischief. "picking you up," he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
he meets you halfway, walks behind you, and takes your backpack off your back. you loll your head on your shoulder when he falls into step beside you. the streetlights are aglow, and you giggle at the orange tint on his hair.
"such a gentleman."
sukuna scoffs, swinging your bag onto his shoulder. "not the word i'd use."
"oh yeah?" you bump into his side, smiling smugly when he throws his arm over your shoulder. "and what word would you use?"
"whipped!" a voice calls from the car. your smile grows larger when you see sukuna's younger brother, yuuji, hanging out of the passenger seat window.
"yuuji!" you laugh, heart leaping in your chest. "when did you get back?"
after graduating highschool, yuuji and his two friends, megumi and nobara travelled around europe for a year and a half. you remember sending him off with a snack pack for the plane and a kiss on the forehead.
"this morning," the younger boy says, stepping out of the car. "been forcing sukuna to take me everywhere until i get my car fixed."
you embrace him in a hug. "i hope you had fun."
yuuji leans back—he used to be shorter than you, but now he's nearly as tall as his brother. "it was better than fun; i'll tell you all about it when we get home."
you glance at sukuna who's doing a great job of being silent, and get into his car when yuuji insists you get in the front.
sukuna never brought up the topic of your breakup to yuuji, it seems.
and on the way home, 'one way or another' plays through the speakers while the younger boy talks your ear off about his drunken nights in greece, and all the experiences that made him miss you (namely laundry and home cooking).
when you arrive back at sukuna's, you notice the disarray of the apartment.
you hear your name being called from the spare room, and your heart explodes, both in whose calling and the nostalgia of it all.
"here, i got you a few souvenirs," yuuji emerges from the room with a bag held out in front of him. "sorry i couldn't;t give them to you this morning, suk said you left early."
you have to stop the smile on your face from dropping at the last part. you know sukuna is standing in the kitchen a few feet away, watching you.
"yuuj!" you grab the bag, wrapping your arm around his torso in a side hug. "you didn't have to get me anything."
the younger boy rolls his eyes. "of course i did. before i left you said if i didn't bring you a miniature figure of all the sights i saw, you'd wash my whites with my reds."
the memory returns to you in a rush. "oh, yeah..."
yuuji's grin and pure excitement make you lead him to the couch. "put a movie on."
"yes, ma'am," he laughs. there's no doubt in your mind that he's putting on human earthworm 8.
while he's occupied, you glare at sukuna, who leans against the kitchen counter.
after you unwrapped all of your gifts, a generous collection of monumental landmarks, you excuse yourself.
shutting the door of sukuna's ensuite, you turn the light on and cover your face with your hands. you swallow and look at yourself in the mirror.
remnants of mascara have collected under your eyes, so you open the mirror to get your makeup remover out of the cupboard.
"have you eaten?—"
you spin around with a makeup pad under your eye, spying sukuna's face through the crack in the door.
you look back at yourself in the mirror, putting the cotton pad onto the counter. "i'll eat when i get home."
sukuna's deep sigh has you turning to him again.
"what?"
"you're not going home."
and when the door clicks closed, your temper reaches its limit.
"you did that on purpose," you scold, but the bite you intend is weak.
"fuck yeah i did," sukuna whispers. "i can't tell him, he loves you."
"ryomen—"
"don't start that again," sukuna snaps. "we've only been apart for two months."
you don't reply.
"hell," he throws his arm out to his right. "i slept over last week, you brought me lunch when i was at work! we haven't acted like we're apart anyway, and you know it."
you bite your lip. "we broke up," but the more you try to drill the fact into your mind, the less you believe it.
"what the fuck for?"
you scrunch your face up in confusion. "you know why."
sukuna throws his head back in exasperation. "we've moved past that now. i've gotten better."
"i know you have..." you mumble, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, not knowing what to say. though, when you think about it, why haven't you gotten back together?
"if yuuji can't tell we've broken up, then we must be doing something wrong."
tears line your waterline in frustration and sadness. "kuna..."
he sighs, running a hand down his face. he steps closer, softly placing his palms on your face. "please, baby."
you chew on your bottom lip, nodding softly.
sukuna uses his thumb to pull your lip out from between your teeth. "i love you, okay? i will get you back."
"you already have me," you laugh, a breath from the back of your throat, your hands grasping at his waist.
"damn straight."
"just stop leaving your shit everywhere and acting like a child in serious situations, and i'll move back in."
and when sukuna rolls his eyes (albeit lovingly) and opens his mouth to agree, you push yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss his mouth. he groans deeply and moves one of his hands from your face to the back of your head and the other to your back, pulling you closer.
"you guys done fucking in there? movie's on."
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occamstfs · 3 days
Text
No Need to Apply
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Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam
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Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.
It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.
Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.
Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.
In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air. 
He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.” 
Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”
Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”
It is suddenly dark in the apartment, but wasn’t he looking out the window? He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed but he cannot see. Brock tries to move his head around to see, to feel anything, he strains his mind reaching for any muscle to flex, any tendon to pull, limbs to controt. He loses track of time and reality as he sits in the darkness, trying to grasp anything beyond his own consciousness, unable to affect anything. He feels his right hand move in a familiar way then he feels a warmth, almost a burning, completely engulfs it. He can almost see the shine of a smile, stark perfectly lined teeth that seem eerily inhuman and suddenly there is once more light. He gasps, coughs, and spits up over himself. Immediately grateful that he can feel anything at all. After feeling his body, and seeing the world almost entirely like it was before he lost consciousness, besides a copy of some contract with his name signed at the bottom.
He takes deep breaths feeling his lungs stretch and he starts to read whatever he has gotten himself into in that stupor. He reads the first few lines before he loses where he was on the page. Going again he finds his eyes suddenly dry, doing an uncharacteristically heavy blink that he can’t quite recall ever doing before and as he wonders this he again forgets his work on the contract. He slams his hand on the thigh in a rare show of aggression and gives it one last go. Brock makes even less progress this time as he is almost immediately overcome by a headache. As soon as he looks away from the sheet though, it disappears. 
Brock groans as he feels himself starting to lose control of his senses before he hears his stomach grumble, and he finds a purpose he can immediately resolve. He starts to the fridge, clearly something has happened, an episode or something, he can figure it out later, he just needs food in his stomach now. He doesn’t stop to realize that there should be no food in the fridge since no one’s been living there. Though he finds there is no need as in the fridge, under a note labeled: “To Help Moving In -Lucas,” Brock sees at least a week of prepped meals. The thought that this is bizarre beyond imagination, as well as the concern at his missing time, is immediately pushed from his mind as his stomach rumbles once more, his mouth watering as he sees his soon-to-be dinner.
Brock swiftly heats it up and begins to scarf it down, throwing something on the paying no mind or care to the thought that he’s using the account of whomever the previous tenant was. He quickly scans through seeing a handful of shows and movies that he wasn’t quite interested in before stumbling on a reality show he was watching with his Ex. He grimaces and almost loses his appetite as he thinks about his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He sets his meal down on the coffee table and crashes down onto the couch. He continues to stew in ire at his ex, palming his crotch as his feelings become more passionate. He rolls his eyes in irritation at himself and that jerk, he’s not going to masturbate to that asshole. 
He reclines in the couch and hears the sound of paper shifting in the cushions, pulling it out he finds a crusted magazine lodged in the couch. What can he do besides shout “what the fuck” and toss it across the room. How could they have possibly missed that in their cleaning? Brock’s eyes shift across the room suspiciously, though he notices nothing amiss as the room is illuminated by only the television. He looks at his hand that grabbed the porn and blushes, wanting to joke about the absurdity to calm himself down. Though his body makes its priorities known once more as his cock pulses and he looks past to see the magazine once more. He did want to masturbate to anyone besides his ex right? 
He shuffles to pick it up, the discomfort and anxiety from handling something covered in a total strangers cum only heightens his pleasure as he sits back down. He grimaces as he sees this is a real hetero-bullshit magazine, he quickly flips through to find something he can work with. His cock keeps demanding his attention as he flips through, almost impatiently pulsing as if to suggest he doesn’t need the magazine at all, just give it your attention. Though soon enough he finds an ad for some protein powder made to emasculate the reader into buying, that almost immediately helps him lose control. 
Soon after he once more fades from consciousness, his cum joining the plethora of other stains in the magazine as he tosses it behind the couch. He finds himself in a darkness that this time feels almost familiar and pleasurable. He once more feels his hand, this time though it is wet and warm. He feels it scratching in briefs that are too tight, through pubes that are too thick. He hears snoring breaking through the silence of his sleep, but that can’t be right? He would know if he snores, surely that fucker of a boyfriend would have complained. He feels his head grow warm as if he’s got a fever, though he knows it is a rage. He feels his hand feel even tighter in his briefs as his cock begins to grow in them. He continues to think of every slight his ex made, every shortcoming he was made needlessly aware of, and of how much better things are going to be now.
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The heat shifts from his mind through his whole body and as light begins to break through the windows. That is not what wakes him up though, rather it is the heavy scent coming from his now sweat stained clothes. He rolls off the couch onto his face, quickly removing his hand from his briefs to catch himself, landing the stinking hand too close to his face to not smell just how loud his underwear smells. He feels his clothes sit weird on his body as he starts to rise, while his shirt just feels like it’s hanging weird, surely from the sweat, it is impossible to not see how strained his underwear is. He groans as he feels them pull strangely before he just discards them and makes his way to the bathroom. 
His eyes immediately latch onto his now exposed crotch, he does a double take as he notices that it seems distinctly larger. He also would have sworn that he shaved his pubes far more recently than it seems. He scratches through them, blushing as he sees dried cum flake off curls that are longer and thicker than he ever remembers them begin. Rather than hoping in the shower like any reasonable person would do he instead tosses on some boxers, not questioning why clothing that isn’t his would just be lying out, or why he would ever put them on. Instead choosing to focus on how right wearing them feels. He pulls them tight and turns wanting to see just how his ass and bulge fill them out, though is waylaid as his shirt blocks the view. 
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He sneers as he takes off the sweat-stained shirt and tosses it to the floor, stretching high as his reeking body feels the air on his skin. He smiles in shock as he sees the body he has now exposed, he sees hair spreading across his stomach and torso and sweat dripping off of pits that were sure to stain every shirt he is to wear from now on. Beyond that he feels a body that is indisputably powerful, where there wasn’t even fat on his body before there was now muscle accompanied with weight in all the right places. His eyes then trail down to see the weightiest part of him by far as it bulges even lower in his boxers.
He feels an urge to move, to flex, to stretch, fill him as he hungrily takes in every new change in his body. His eyes trace their way past muscles contorting to land on his face, seeing a jaw that could certainly do with a shave. He sees his eager grin begin to turn into a cocky sneer as he begins to stretch once more, trying to will his torso even longer, trying to force his body even taller. His voice grows even deeper to his barely-aware ears as he closes his eyes to stretch, not seeing his throat force itself thicker and longer. There is once again a flicker in his mind as Brock is in darkness once more. Where there was once discomfort and fear there is now only hunger and an eagerness to grow even more.
He feels an itch burn across his body. He feels his hands dig deep into his pits scratching as hair grows thick enough to hold an odor that would never dissipate. He smells as even in this dreamstate he raises his hands to his nose to give them a post-scratch whiff. He feels the same itch cry out from his chest and pubes, from his lower back and his ass. He feels himself move his jaw as it squares up, a rumble in his throat as he feels his groans grow even deeper. He feels his mind thicken and slow as his muscles flex in his sleep. His arms do rep after unconscious rep as he feels biceps that should not be rub against a chest that has never been there before.
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Finally he wakes one last time, his hand as it apparently always is, shoved in his pants, once more barely fitting despite wearing the spacier boxers. Brock blearily looks to see lines of takeout containers covering his coffee table. He scratches his beard using the hand from his crotch and he deeply inhales, two birds one stone after all. He sets out to get started with his day, tossing over in his head if he should masterbate again or not, a stain from a wet dream clearly showing through his boxers. Instead he throws Drake on his speakers and starts getting an early workout in, seeing to every part of his body getting a pump as he feels the hunger in his crotch grow only more urgent. 
Going about this workout Brock feels totally at home in this apartment. After all he’s lived here for? Uh? His mind empties as he looks around and sees weeks of piled up detritus and filth. He sees dirty clothes and cum stains on his couch. Looking past them there are his American Psycho and Fight Club posters, discarded underwear hanging off the latter, as well as the trophies he distinctly remembers winning back in college wrestling. He smirks and flexes tilting his head to sniff his pit. Beyond feeling at home in his apartment he also feels unequivocally at home in this, in his body, duh. He jumps to his feet with ease, his stomach rumbling as he once more goes to meet a basal need.
Throwing some of his favorite protein powder in a blender with some milk and eggs he hears his phone go off. There are a string of messages from some bitch asking him to come back and for the life in him Brock can’t remember who that little fucker is? Hearing his shake finish blending he stares at the profile picture of whoever this twink is as he starts to down it, wiping his lips on his sweaty arm as needed. The twink he doesn’t know calls him Brock and his eye twitches, ugh. Why is this dude calling him by his, uh? Is that his middle name? Or no he was Brock right?
He finishes the shake, tossing the blender onto the pile of dishes in the sink and his mind finds itself deeply conflicted. As ever though, his body is more than happy to assuage him, the phone vibrates once more and his cock begins to bring him clarity, demanding his attention once more. Brock’s a little bitch name. He smirks as he looks around at his sty of an apartment, not remembering how neat it once was. Peeking from under a particularly dirty dish there’s a contract that he remembers that he meant to have a look at. 
Bringing it to his face however he simply can’t find the motivation to even start. Why worry about this when he can masturbate, or fuck maybe he can get that whiny bitch to come over? His eyes trail to the end of the paper and see his signature, written clear as day “Adam.” He guffaws at this, god how stupid can you be, he basically forgot his own name after that twink called him uh, whatever that bitch name was. He feels his crotch grow tight again, that is kinda hot though? He moans to himself, pawing at his crotch and texts whoever this man is his address and to come ready to fuck. Adam feels no real attachment to whoever it is, nor should he, a hole is a hole after all. Saying that thought he can’t help but feel this hole is due to be taught a lesson.
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If you enjoyed this I also recommend @fredwkong's The Voice in Your Head which explores a similar idea in quite a unique and captivating way!
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tarjapearce · 3 days
Text
Like Me Pt. 2
Tarzan! Miguel O'Hara x Scientist ! Reader
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Art by Rendraws21 on X
WARNINGS: Mildly suggestive, power dynamics, emotional distress, endangering situations, Kraven being an asshole.
Summary: Your savior proves himself to be very much real.
A|N: Hope you like! I know you're waiting smut. Just bare with it! ;w; Reblogs and feedback are always welcome ❤️
Previous Miguelverse Main Masterlist
Kraven didn't dally and ordered the camp to be settled. The spot was rather good. A prime source of water and food next to you all, soil sturdy and perfect for withstanding the hard hammering of the tools that nailed the bases for the tents.
And after hours of bickering, russian cursing, more work and the crew doctor patching your arm up, the camp was settled and food served.
Each bite not only felt heavenly, but was scarfed down. You couldn't care less if Peter looked your way, mildly disgusted and surprised of your manners, or rather the lack of them while eating.
It was the least you deserved after surviving a ship sinking, getting lost in the jungle, being chased by a giant Jaguar and a man that left more questions than answers.
Who was he? More important, How had he survived all these years on his own?
After a second plate and extra slices of bread, one of the men approached and announced the readiness of your tent. One of the things you asked in your contract. To have your own, cause as much as you trusted Peter, there was nothing better than to have your own space and privacy in the midst of an unhealthy amount of testosterone surrounding you.
"We've eaten, replenished, and blah blah. What happened?" Peter mumbled while picking his and your plate together.
You shook your head softly as another crew member passed by. You didn't trust them, and Kraven had proved to be unpredictable.
One minute he cared for his crew and the other he was leaving you to fend for yourselves. But as long as you did your job, you wouldn't be part of the russian's guessing dangerous games.
"Kraven said we'd have to make do with the little tools we have. He spent a good time of the day trying to get some signal for the radio."
"Any luck?"
"None so far." Peter mumbled as he took your things inside your tent.
A hammock was the bed, a few boxes and other storage things were placed in a corner. A chalkboard and your investigation books in another corner and against all odds, a little broken mirror that acted as a poor attempt of a vanity ontop of another wooden box. Your hairbrush rested next to it. Whoever arranged it, at least had the consideration to make it as comfortable looking as possible.
In total, you had a couple of shirts and skirts left to use. The rest remained on the sea, floating and drifting away with unknown course.
Peter excused to go change himself and you seized the chance to do the same. Catching a cold in the jungle wasn't in your priorities list. Not with reduced medicine and victuals.
You put on a dry set and combed your hair out as much as you could. Peter joined you a couple of minutes later.
The fire cracked and sparked alive as the crew surrounded it. The day had been chaotic at best and everyone tried to soothe the nerves in their own way. Some drank, others sang, others talked and soon Kraven joined.
Others simply went to sleep. Too tired to keep up after a well deserved meal.
"So..." Peter started while sitting before you, a rag and some tubs on his hands. He was cleaning the remaining pieces of your equipment.
"Promise me you won't talk to anyone about this. And I mean it, Parker."
"I'm a geologist, not a snitch."
"I'm... kinda scared of what might happen if Kraven finds out"
"Now you're scaring me.  What happened back there?"
"I know... who killed the beast Kraven is skinning." A gulp rolled down your throat upon remembering the lurid scene displaying before your eyes
"Wait... you said, who?"
A nod from you and Peter paled.
"We're not alone, that's for sure."
Peter rubbed his hands against his face, an exasperated groan escaped him.
"He's taller than Kraven."
"Bullshit." Peter mumbled almost immediate, surprised at your words.
"I'm not bullshittin' you Parker!" You had to hush your voice and soon grabbed a sketch notebook and begun tracing and drawing.
"He's freaking tall, long hair and he's naked. Well, not naked but a loincloth is everything but clothes if you think about it."
Peter frowned suspiciously as his hand pressed on your skin, to see if your body temperature had increased. Jungle fever was one of the worst things a human could suffer when away from their homeland. Cause he refused to believe anything of the nonsense that came out of your mouth was true.
A man taller than Sergei? Impossible. He was tall, but Sergei had been one of the tallest and well built men he had ever came across with.
"What are you doing?" You pushed his hands away and frowned.
"I'm sorry, I do want to believe you but.."
"I'm telling you the truth, Pete! He had... This... red hue on his eyes and fangs!"
"Fangs?" The incredulity in Peter couldn't be hidden the more he listened to your apparent rave.
"He's fucking strong, Pete. He was holding that beast by his tail! and then fought body to body against it! and He's so damn touchy. No respect for personal space!."
"And what? He smashed the jaguar to death and then kissed you?"
"Yes!" You nodded but quickly frowned when Peter tittered on his seat, unable to keep the mirth away.
"Why are you laughing?!"
"I'm sorry. You know we've been friends since college, but you seriously can't expect me to believe that, Dally."
A short for Dalhberg. The surname that put your name out in the researcher's map in London, upon discovering and naming another type of daisy and named it after you. The Dalhberg Daisy.
"You believe in the freaking Queen but refuse to believe in this?"
"I believe in the Queen's acquisitive power, nothing else. Cause I've seen it!" He explained, skeptical.
You showed him the sketch and shoved it to his hands.
"Look at that! That's exactly how he looks like!"
Peter sighed and raked over his eyes on the semi-crumpled paper sheet. Sharp features, a strong jaw and deep eyes.
"Yeah, a haircut would make him look better though." he chuckled, "Look, I know it's been a long day for us... let's rest, ok? We've got another tomorrow."
With a frown you removed the sketchbook away and tossed it on the makeshift vanity.
"He's real." you pointed at the sketchbook
"Okay, okay. He's real. We can discuss it all tomorrow when we're less tired, alright?"  He held your shoulders, trying to ease your rising anger.
But you quickly removed his hands from you, hurt that your best friend didn't believe you. "Whatever. Goodnight."
Peter left with a defeated sigh and soon you cuddled in your hammock.
"I know he's real." With a huff, you pushed the pillow closer to your face, letting the day's weight to finally crash on you.
-----
The loud bangs of a gunshot echoed through the bright blue skies, frightening any local fauna that rested comfortably, like you, that nearly fell out the hammock from the initial jumpscare.
With a heavy exhale, and rub of your eyes you geared up for the day.
This time Kraven was thoughtful enough to give you a weapon. A small knife with enough sharp to slice and dice through anything weak enough to perish under the blade.
And soon everyone gathered to the morning structions. Kraven split up the crew in three parts. The first group of men would go to the beach to recover as much equipment as they could. The second group would be in charge to set up traps and hunt down for food. And the third one, meaning Peter, you, two more men and himself would go explore and study the jungle in order to gain any sort of information of new potential species.
You carried a small backpack, filled with your sketchbook, pencils, some essay and sample tubes and some snacks in case Kraven decided to return until dinner time.
And after a quick breakfast of oatmeal and fruits, everyone left.
Peter walked behind Sergei, guiding the group whenever the mercenary asked him to. You were in the middle as the other two men trailed with their guns behind.
Morning slowly poured into hours. Tortuous, running at the speed of a snail. Each breathing felt like adding more to the waiting, bringing your nerves to a much annoyed stance.
But it quickly melted away upon finding your first discovery.
The grass laid pressed in a circular pattern on the ground. The leaves were placed strategically, as if used as cushions in great amounts. A couple of fruit carcasses laid next to them. Discarded and forgotten.
"Look at that" The excitement in your voice beyond evident. You crouched to see if there was any other clues to your growing suspicion.
Kraven and Peter stopped upon you crouching to the floor.
"What is it?" Kraven pulled his gun from it's holster and walked over you.
"These are nests!"
"Nests?" His brow quirked and you nodded vigorously, to then count the spots. Around six in total.
"You know what that means? They live in packs! Gorillas live in packs!"
"About damn time we found something." Kraven nodded, pleased as he helped you up to then mark a spot in his map.
"Good job, Dalhberg."
Praised the mercenary before moving.
--
When the sun got high enough and Peter discovered some other findings like rare minerals, the group decided to take a break nearby a lake.
The five of you sat down and ate whatever thing you got left from breakfast.
Once you were done, you took your backpack, pencil and sketchbook with you.
"Where are you going?" Kraven grumbled after gulping down the water from his canteen.
"Saw some specimens of plants Id like to register. Won't take long."
"You better return as soon as possible, understood?"
The mercenary warned and you nodded while walking away from the tree. Excited to partake in the things you were brought and paid to do.
Your first specimen was a moss plant, then a new type of orchid. A fish, some birds and more plants. Even though you studied everything alive, the plants were your speciality.
You put the little backpack in a a nearby trunk as you sat down to draw yet another orchid. The place seemed flooding with them.
Engrossed beyond wits to notice you had drifted off a bit too far from the group and a little too late a baboon sniffing and ransacking your backpack.
"H-Hey! Hey! -The baboon took the backpack away, excited and driven by the tinkling within "Get back here!"
The animal hopped on the trees before you could catch it, with graceful and effortless agility, to finally stop to a sturdy looking and serpent-like shaped trunk above the middle of a swamp.
As much as you wanted to let the monkey get away with it all, you didn't want to face Kraven's anger for losing the last bit of equipment and delay the investigation. You didn't know when the next ship would arrive. None did actually.
It's hoots and chirping only increased the more things he pulled out of your backpack. The tubs shattered as they fell off.
"Stop it!" you shrieked while hopping onto the trunk with wobbly and uneven steps.
The monkey hooted louder until it started shrieking, as if mocking you whenever your balance failed and you were forced to crawl over the top.
"God, I swear... if I catch you, I'm so making an article on how annoying you are!"
The baboon just screeched at your silly threat once more before leaving your backpack pending from a twig as he jumped way through the stretched branches that favored him like open arms, with your bag of seeds.
Your breath hitched when the trunk creaked and some cracking around the base perked up your ears.
Shit.
You couldn't stop and return crawling from where you came from, not when the backpack was oh so close to be reached and your nightmare to be over.
With a deep breath, you crawled closer and closer. Paused breaths turned controlled, but quickly grunted when the hem of your skirt stuck in a jagged branch.
"No, no" You whined and pulled away, the trunk creaked harder and you immediately hugged the trunk.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" with a firm yet calculated yank, you ripped the fabric away, freeing yourself although losing a good chunk of front coverage.
A thunderous crack made your breath hitch and you moved forward as the trunk stuttered midair. It was then your eyes actually considered the generous and dangerous distance from your position to the murky water. But the backpack dangling before you, edged you to take a risky decision.
Or you took the backpack and threw it on land, hoping to take the least damage as possible or jumping to that other branch to avoid falling to the water.
None of them happened as the tree dipped forward, and with a dying groan, the cracks widened, tearing the feeble base of the trunk, unable to support your weight any longer.
As in slow motion, you saw the murky water closer and closer and closer, until nothing but darkness swallowed you whole. Cold and muddy water hit you, suffocating your body with enraged water that fought hard to drown you.
Your hands were the only thing that made it out as they failed. The sub aquatic flora begun their tangling in your boots and legs, pulling you down.
Your lungs burned as some water seeped through, the backpack sunk deeper and deeper. Like a sacrifice in exchange of your life. Because a strong pair of tanned hands pulled you with a powerful yank by the forearm, out of the water before death and crocodiles owned it.
Your head too dizzy to actually understand what was happening. Your eyes could only see the landscape sliding smoothy underneath your feet, like if you were flying.
Am I dead? Dead people don't fly, do they?
You shrieked as soon as your eyes looked upwards. Powerful and solid thighs held tightly on the growing vines, that spurted from underneath the gigantic trees, as one of his hand took your arm gently to suddenly pull you up in the air and catch you in his arms.
Your instincts told you to hold onto him as the other survival mode blared with danger alarms. The massive wall of solid muscles he had for a body was warm, full of scars and plush hair that did nothing but welcome your dizzy head on his chest.
The man quirked a brow at your sudden state. He frowned and quickly got over the foliage of a tree, before the pouring rain trapped you both.
You were put with ease against the solid and definitely not rotting trunk, and your body lurched to the side to expell away the swallowed water, clearing your airways.
A firm slap from his hand made your lungs to finally get some air as you gasped and coughed, all the while he watched you curiously.
You were drenched, against a tree, clothes sticking way too intimately against your shivering body, breathing like you were a first born, raged and fast. Lungs burned less.
Eyes finally widened when recognizing the man before you. Some fresh scars littered his Greek-god type physique.
"T-Thank you." You mumbled through clattering teeth and forced yourself to take a deep inhale to control the rising anxiety.
He grunted and approached. One of his hands slid gently under your chin to take a hold of your cheek. Your head instinctively melted into his heavenly body heat, and your eyes dared to shut for a minute. Relishing in the irradiating warmth his calloused hands provided.
He's so warm.
As if sensing the good deed, the man rubbed his hands on your cold arms, mindful of the patches around your arm, a couple of times before going back up to your cheeks and neck.
You gasped as soon as his hands were placed on your chest. His hands gently palming your breast but quickly let them go upon feeling your hardened nipples. You quickly covered your chest
He watched his hands, as if inspecting them for any damage when he felt the hardened nub, to then return to your arms, prying them away from your chest.
"Wait!"
You shrieked and he took both of your wrists with one hand and hovered them above your head, squishing them against the tree, softly. His eyes raked and took in every feature of you, before stopping at your chest again.
Your breath hitched as he slid the other hand inside your shirt. Cheeks turned impossibly warmer when he took one of your breasts and pulled it out of their confinements.
He examinated the perky mound with puppy wonder-like curiosity and then looked down his own chest. He frowned. His didn't swell like yours did.
"Wh-What are you doi-" you bit your lip as he poked your nipple, sniffed it and licked it. Earning a short mewl from you.
The sound startled him and he let you go.
"T- That's not a polite thing to do!" 
You quickly put the breast back and swung your hand to slap him. You had to admit his reflexes were something else cause it caught it before it collided against his face.
"How dare you?!" You struggled to let your hand go, but stopped your outburst when his eyes watched your hands and brought them before his ever curious face.
His own hand reached up, and placed itself before yours, comparing the stretched and long digits against your smaller ones. They weren't the same size, that was much true, but the texture and lines he had were the same on yours.
His eyes shone brighter than any  bewilderment. His mind had finally clicked together at the sudden epiphany that flooded his brain.
You were like him.
He pursed his lips before letting out an excited grunt. He backed away to create enough space for his arms to move freely.
He pointed to himself and spoke with the deepest yet excited voice he could manage.
"Miguel."
Your eyes went wide and you approached. He tried again while pointing at his chest.
"Mi guel."
"Miguel." His nose flared proudly and his throat grunted happily.
"Oh! I see!"
His ears perked up upon hearing your name.
"OhIsee!" He repeated.
But you quickly corrected him, with your name as you pointed to yourself and then called his name as you pointed at him.
A buttery crawl rolled down your spine as he mumbled your name.
"Exactly." you smiled.
He cupped your face again and mumbled your name once more. However, the sound of a gunshot tearing through the skies disrupted his attention from you and stood at the edge of the branch.
"Kraven" You gasped. Completely forgetting about him and the group.
Oh no...
Trouble was a tiny word of the deep neck shit you were into. Another shot rippled through, frightening the birds in the ratio.
"Kraven!" He repeated, excited.
Extraordinary. There wasn't any word to describe him better. He took you back, trapping you in between his muscular thighs and swinging through vines.
The more you approached the camp, the clearer you saw this massive black and brown spots moving away from the settlement.
Your hearth thumped with violence upon finally standing before a small group of gorillas, sniffing and hooting softly upon seeing Miguel.
Your savior wasted no time in pulling you closer to them. You shook your head, rightfully frightened.
"No, no, no wait!"
The gorillas huffed to then sniff your head, your clothes. Some even pulled at your hair softly, others examinated the clothes you were in.
Another gunshot echoed closely this time and it was loud enough to spook out the beasts out that pulled Miguel with them. You could only watch him, wide eyed, expectant. But he left.
"Miguel..."
----
Kraven wasn't one for losing his temper with women. But you, had the annoying ability to make his patiece turn to dust in the least opportunes of moments.
"I asked you, where the fuck have you been?!"
He dragged you to the center of the crew and threw you on the floor.
"I told you, I almost drowned! Why do you think I'm like this?!"
Kraven spat a few words in his native language under his breath and grunted
"You lost your equipment, didn't you?"
"I... I tried to get it back but I almost drown in the swamp, Sergei!" you explained with nothing but the truth
"You can't swim, don't you bullshit me.!"
"I'm telling you the truth!"
"Then how you survived!?"
Peter frowned as he looked at you.
"I was saved. Ok? A man saved me!"
"A man?"
"He's... Not like us. He's taller than you and he saved me!" you kept pressing, hoping the angered mercenary understood that you didn't do anything in purpose to upset him.
"He knows how to swing through the vines! And dropped me here! His name is Miguel. "
Everyone stared with derision at you and Peter seemed concerned you stuck with your story so bad to the point of risking your own neck and reputation.
Kraven' brows furrowed into a scowl and soon he pulled his revolver out and pointed at you.
Your face turned to panic, as your hands rose shakily.
"A savage named Miguel helped you?"
"He did! Otherwise you'd still be looking for me."
Kraven snorted without removing the gun's aim from your body.
"Funny you think I'd waste my resources to look up for a stupid woman like you."
"Please, you have to believe me! I saw gorillas around the camp!"
Kraven removed the safety pin from the revolver, as if peeved you'd waste his time and resources into being an idiot and not doing your work as he required.
Time was ticking and he still had no news, and for you to be fantasizing about savages and doing stupid things such as endangering yourself had proved you weren't reliable.
"You're not reliable, anymore, Dahlberg."
"No! Sergei listen to me-"
He pointed the gun once more to you "I can't keep unreliable people within my crew."
"I'm not lying!" You pleaded with all your might and tears in your eyes, "Miguel is-"
Before Sergei could push the tip of his revolver on your head and shoot, the earth underneath rumbled, as Miguel fell in between you.
Real.
Kraven stepped back as the imaginary savage was now fully standing before him. His head had to crane up to meet his burning ember eyes.
Miguel's lips snarled at him, showing his fangs and beating his chest. A clear challenge for him to fight him.
A collective round of gasps echoed through the men, but when Miguel bared his teeth, they all pulled their guns and pointed at him
"Stop!" You yelled and quickly scrambled to your feet to take Miguel's hand and shake your head with determination.
"Don't hurt him!"
Peter immediately got himself before you and rose his arms, showing he was no armed.
"I'm sure we can reach an agreement here without filling eachother with bullets, gentlemen"
"Shut up, Parker!" Sergei seethed and with a deep flare of his nose, pointed the gun at Miguel again, but Peter grabbed the weapon and the shot tore through the air again.
"Kraven" Miguel grumbled at the gun shot sound.
Said mercenary could only watch him, nonplussed for a moment. While you, again, stood your ground before the behemoth of a man. Attempting your best at protecting him.
"Have... we met before?" Kravinoff spoke confused.
"I told you he could speak! And he is real!"
Miguel remained glued at your side. Everyone slowly put their weapons down as Kraven approached to take a proper look at Miguel, fascinated by his sheer size and build.
Peter had to admit, that it was the last time he'd ever doubt your words.
"You said you had seen gorillas?"
Again, you nodded and Miguel repeated the word.
"Miguel knows them. He could help us."
"Help us? The man barely understand us, but... It's better than nothing I suppose."
Sergei scrunched his face in confusion as Miguel took strands of your hair and sniffed them, his senses awakening in pure adrenaline. Throat grunted approvingly.
"Yeah... kind of understand the personal space thing now." Peter cleared his throat behind you. The rest kept looking to see but quickly were dismissed by their leader.
"Oh, shut up." You grumbled nervously as Miguel pulled your head to his chest once more, to listen to his powerful heartbeats.
"Yeah, it's very very nice." You chuckled nervously with a soft flush creeping your cheek.
"Nice." He repeated.
Kraven could only watch but if he was the link towards the gorillas, he'd seize the chance in every way he could.
"He's way smarter than you think."
"We're running against time, how would he understand us, Dhalberg?"
Miguel moved to inspect Kraven, mimicking his gestures effortlessly. Earning a giggle from you.
"Leave that to me."
-------
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adascore · 1 day
Note
Hello! Not sure if you’re taking requests but would you consider doing an addition to TSS where young!arsenal reader was starting before Beth and Viv came back and has been benched majority of the time since (Kyra core☹️). Maybe during like the west ham game was one of the subs thrown on halfway through and after the loss made a snarky comment about “being thrown on to unfuck everything” type of thing to another teammate and Viv/beth overhear and think she’s talking about them (maybe they’re already a little insecure about losing such an “easy” game, self doubt post ACL) and things are super frosty and weird at home until one of them snaps and makes a comment about how they still wouldn’t have won even if R started. Hurt/comfort angst but with a happy ending!! Not sure if any of that strikes your fancy but I had the thought and you’re so talented:) no worries if not!!!
TO JUMP THE GUN(NERS)
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pairings: arsenal x teen!reader / meadema x teen!reader / kyra cooney-cross x arsenal!reader
warnings: the west-ham match. swearing. angst. awkwardness.
author’s note: OMG LOVE THIS IDEA ! like this was right up my alley I felt like 😭 thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy the story!
masterlist
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February 4, 2024 - Essex, England
It had become a routine, seeing her name and number on the bench. She took a glance at Kyra, a knowing look in her eyes.
The young Arsenal homegrown wondered where it all had gotten wrong. Well, she knew the answer, but it wasn't exactly something she could say out loud to anyone.
She was transported back to the 2022/23 season, where she would warm the bench until either Vivianne or Beth were too tired or they needed to be rested for the next match.
Their injuries had changed everything.
Y/N not only became a regular starter, but became a vital part of their game. Her absence would be noticed.
She scored the goals that got them to the semifinals of the Champions League, keeping them level with 2x champions Wolfsburg.
However, Beth and Vivianne were back now. Alessia's arrival also didn't help much, the former Manchester United player having cemented herself into the starting line-up.
It also didn't help that Jonas was not a fan of rotating. Only in specific Conti Cup matches or against what he deemed 'weaker' teams in the league would he make changes to the usual starting XI.
In other words, she was back to step 1.
That's why it was hard to watch her teammates falling 2-1 behind against West Ham, with no one seeming to find an answer or any will to turn the game around. It was a painful spectacle.
In the 63rd minute, Jonas decided to throw herself, Kyra and Cloé in the match, and take out Vivianne, Victoria and Beth. It was a desperate attempt, and the three Gunners found themselves on the pitch, tasked with the challenging mission of trying to fix everything that had gone wrong so far.
Y/N and Cloé quickly created some chances but the West Ham defense or the swift reflexes of Mackenzie Arnold saw them go in vain.
The teenager could see the expressions of her teammates on the bench, visibly frustrated with how the match had unfolded since Alessia's successful header.
Vivianne couldn't hide the discontent in her eyes as she sat with a subtle shake of her head. Her partner, sitting beside her, noticed and Beth patted her thigh, offering silent support as they continued to watch their team scramble for a late equalizer.
As the final whistle blew, the disappointment within the team was high. Y/N did her usual post-match routine, and congratulated all the West Ham players on their win, while giving and receiving solace from her own teammates.
The teen found Kyra again, someone who she had found a friendship in over the months the Australian had joined the Gunners.
''You alright?'' The midfielder asked her, a dejected tone in her voice.
Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, you?''
''Not too great, but there are worse things in life.'' Kyra responded, trying to put the loss in perspective.
''True,'' the striker agreed, ''I can't believe he keeps putting us in these positions.''
Kyra nodded. ''You think he would learn after Tottenham.'' She sighed.
''Apparently, we're not good enough to start, but when he needs us to unfuck everything that happened, then he knows who we are.'' Y/N said, her frustration evident. The unfair treatment of some players during the season lingered in the air, leaving a bitter taste after the defeat.
As the youngsters continued their conversation on their way to the locker room, Vivianne and Beth, unintentionally overhearing their discussion, exchanged puzzled glances.
''Did you hear that? 'Unfuck everything'?'' Beth repeated her housemate's words to her partner.
Vivianne's brow furrowed as she processed what was said. ''Yeah,'' the Dutchwoman breathed out, ''not very nice.'' A hint of sadness lingered in her voice. It stung that their efforts were being discussed in such terms, especially by the young girl they were living with.
They didn't say much else to one another as they strolled through the corridor.
The atmosphere in the locker room was subdued, void of any banter and entertaining chats. Most of the players were already there as the couple walked in.
Beth took a glimpse at Y/N and Kyra who still seemed in a discussion with one another, although they were whispering now.
''Girls, we're a lot better than this.'' Kim broke the ice, a neutral expression on her face.
Everyone nodded at the captain, the collective disappointment from the match was visible. ''Well, it's done, we can't change anything about it. So, everyone just do a reset, try to get some sleep or distract yourselves on the bus, and I expect everyone with fresh minds and legs at training.''
The team nodded and weakly applauded Kim's small speech.
As the team began to disperse, Y/N caught Beth's eye, offering a faint smile in greeting. However, the winger's response was noticeably strained, her usually warm demeanor replaced by a subtle tension.
"Everything okay?" The younger one ventured, her concern evident.
Beth's smile faltered slightly, her gaze flickering away before returning to meet Y/N's. "Yeah, everything's fine." She replied, though her words sounded hollow even to her own ears.
The striker's brow furrowed further, a flicker of uncertainty clouding her features. "Are you sure?" She pressed gently, not used to this awkwardness from her teammate.
"I... yeah, I'm sure." She retorted, her voice tinged with irritation.
"Okay..." Y/N trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. Sensing the dismissiveness between them, she offered a hesitant smile before turning back to where she had been talking with Lia.
As her housemate walked away, Beth's expression hardened, a pang of guilt gnawing at her conscience. She knew she shouldn't act like this towards her, but her words had really struck a nerve for some reason and it was hard to pretend it didn't.
The drive home on the bus wasn't that different, though the atmosphere was more subdued due to the loss. Y/N and Kyra were seated next to each other, Katie and Caitlin sitting on the other side of them.
''You alright, Y/N?'' Caitlin asked, noticing the youngster's quietness.
Y/N looked up, glancing away from her nails to the older Australian player. She hesitated answering, not knowing if it was appropriate to say anything about her interaction with Beth.
She sat up straight and motioned for the three of them to huddle together over the small table. They got her message and did just that.
''Did anything happen on the bench or something? Cause I had this weird exchange with Meado, and it's just stuck in my head.'' She explained, her voice hushed.
They all frowned at her words. ''No, she was just frustrated about the game, but so was everyone else.'' Caitlin responded.
''What happened?'' Katie chimed in, curious to know about this exchange.
''I don't know. She was looking at me in the locker room, and I smiled at her, but she, I don't know, just looked weird at me. I asked her if she was alright, but she was kinda distant with me? She responded a little irritated so I left her alone, but it was weird.'' Y/N gave a small summary of the interaction.
"That is strange." Kyra mused, breaking the silence that had settled over their huddle.
They nodded at her words, agreeing with the young Australian.
''I didn't notice anything.'' Caitlin said with a pout, feeling sorry she couldn't help her younger teammate out. ''Me neither, kiddo.'' Katie added, a similar expression on her face.
Y/N smiled sadly, disappointed she wasn't any wiser on Beth. Katie rubbed her arm once she noticed her dejected expression. ''Hey, I wouldn't worry about it. It's a tough loss.''
The youngster nodded at the Irishwoman's words. ''Yeah, you're right.''
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Katie was not right.
As soon as she got in the car with the beloved couple it was clear that something had gone down for them to act in such a sour mood. Vivianne's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, while Beth stared out of the window, her expression unreadable.
Sensing the palpable tension, Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The youngster wanted to break the silence, but the words wouldn't come out. It felt like they were stuck in her throat.
The drive home felt like forever. Every minute made the atmosphere worse. Y/N tried to catch Vivianne or Beth's eye, hoping for some sign that things would get better, but there was nothing.
Car rides after losses were never filled with much conversation, but it had never been like this.
A wave of relief went through her as the car was parked in front of their apartment complex, longing for the comfort of her room where she could hide from whatever the situation was.
Y/N couldn't even come up with a guess on what had transpired. Did they have a fight? Did she do something? Did someone else do something?
She had absolutely no clue.
However, the tension seemed to follow them into their shared home. The silence had become even more deafening with each step they took.
Beth disappeared into her room without a word, while Vivianne headed straight for the kitchen, her movements stiff and mechanical. Y/N stood in the hallway, feeling like an outsider in her own home.
Their behaviors made her feel anxious, feeling that knot inside her stomach. What had happened during the game? What had caused them to retreat into themselves like this?
Unable to handle any of it longer, Y/N tentatively approached the Dutchwoman in the kitchen. "Um, Viv?" She began, her voice small.
Vivianne glanced up, her expression guarded. "Yeah?” She replied, accent heavy.
The younger girl hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I, uh, did, uh, something happen at the game?" She stammered, her words stumbling over each other in her haste to get everything out.
The striker's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?” She asked, her face neutral.
Her response only added to the youngest one's confusion. It seemed as though they were both dancing around a subject neither wanted to address.
"I-I just... noticed things were a bit off between everyone after the match," Y/N explained, her voice barely above a whisper, "and, well, the car ride home was... a bit weird, you know.”
Vivianne's expression softened slightly, though her guard remained up. ''Don't worry about it. Just… frustration from the game.''
But Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just frustration. She wanted to press further, but the fear of causing further conflict held her back.
Instead, she offered a hesitant nod. ''Okay, good.'' She murmured to the floor, retreating back to her room with a heavy heart.
The Arsenal homegrown player pulled her phone out of her pocket, searching up Kyra's contact. It only took a few rings for the Australian to pick up, she was probably already on her phone as she was called.
''Hey.'' Her accent momentarily bringing a smile to Y/N's face.
''Hey, you're home?''
''Yeah, just arrived. What's up?''
There was a brief pause before Y/N continued. ''Things have gotten a bit weirder since, uh, on the bus.''
''Shit. What happened?'' She asked, her voice filled with genuine worry.
''It's just... the tension at home is almost suffocating," she explained, ''it was completely silent the entire time we were driving home, and when we got home, Beth immediately went to her room. I tried to ask Viv about, but she told me it was just frustrations, but it clearly is not just that.''
There was a moment of silence as Kyra processed Y/N's words. "That doesn't sound good," she finally replied, ''you really have no idea what might have happened? Maybe they had a fight or something?''
Y/N shook her head, even though her teammate couldn't see it. "No, that's the thing. I'm completely lost." She admitted, frustration lacing her words.
''Same. I wish I knew what to say to help.'' Kyra said softly.
''It's alright, Ky. Thanks for letting me ramble.'' Y/N chuckled, appreciating the opportunity to unload her worries onto her friend.
''It's fine, honestly. It must not be fun to be in this situation,'' the Matilda replied, feeling for her friend, ''if anything else happens you can always let me know, okay? I'm gonna have some dinner now.''
Y/N smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Ky. I really appreciate it.”
''Anytime. Take care, I'll see you at training.''
''You too. Bye, bye.'' They bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone.
Y/N prepared to leave her room again, wanting to check if Vivianne had started dinner yet or not.
Just as she stepped into the hallway, she nearly collided with Beth, who was coming out of her room with a tight-lipped expression. The sudden encounter caught them both off guard.
''Shit, sorry.'' The younger one apologized first, giving her housemate an awkward glance.
''It's alright,'' Beth brushed off, ''uh, were you on the phone just now?" She asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
Y/N nodded. ''Uh, yeah, with Kyra.''
Beth's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. "Oh, Kyra." She murmured, her voice tight.
The younger girl simply stared at the winger, not knowing what to say to her words. "Is everything okay?" Y/N ventured, her voice hesitant as she searched Beth's face for any sign of what might be bothering her.
Beth's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she seemed lost in thought. When she finally spoke, her words were tinged with a hint of irritation. ''Everything's alright.''
Y/N offered a small, uneasy smile and nodded. "Oh, okay." She said, though her words felt hollow even to her own ears.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Beth turned to walk away. As she watched Beth disappear around the corner, she wondered if it had been something she had done. However, she couldn't recall saying or doing anything that day that would have provoked this kind of demeanor from the couple.
The young striker walked into the living room, noticing Vivianne bustling about in the kitchen. But what caught Y/N's attention was the hushed whispers exchanged between the couple, Beth and Vivianne not being subtle about their gossiping.
A sense of discomfort washed over the youngster as she hesitated in the doorway, unsure whether to interrupt or retreat unnoticed. But before she could make a decision, the Dutchwoman glanced up and caught her eye, her expression inscrutable.
''Hey, dinner is almost ready. Just some leftover pasta from yesterday.'' She informed Y/N, her tone somewhat forced as she attempted to maintain a facade of normalcy.
Y/N forced a smile. ''Nice, thanks, Viv.'' She answered, trying to ignore the awkwardness that hung in the air.
She retreated to the couch, feeling as if she wasn't welcome in the small space. Something was off, and she couldn't help but feel like she was on the outside looking in.
She scrolled on her phone for a few minutes before Vivianne called her to the table as the food was ready. As they gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere remained strained, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
Vivianne served up the leftover pasta, her movements brisk as she avoided making eye contact with anyone. Beth sat across from Y/N, her expression unreadable as she picked at her food.
Y/N tried to focus on her food, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach made it difficult to swallow.
For a few moments, the only sound was the clinking of forks against plates, the silence punctuated only by the occasional awkward cough or clearing of throat.
Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Y/N opened her mouth. "So, um, what did you guys think about the match?'' She asked the pair, her voice coming out more high than she had intended.
As if on cue, Vivianne and Beth glanced up from their plates at the same time.
''It was tough, but it shouldn't have been tough. We lacked a clear tactic.'' The experienced striker answered, filling up the silence.
Y/N nodded, relieved at least one of them responded to her attempt at conversation. She took a peek at Beth, who did not seem amused in the slightest to talk about the surprising defeat earlier that day.
''It was just another match of us fucking everything up, and you kids having to unfuck it all.'' Beth said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
The youngest's eyes widened slightly at the cutting remark, not expecting those words to come out of the Brit's mouth.
Vivianne shifted uncomfortably in her seat, casting a quick glance at Y/N before fixing her gaze on her partner. "Beth, that's enough.'' Her voice was stern, warning Beth that this was not the way to go about this.
But Beth ignored her girlfriend, her eyes fixed on Y/N with an intensity that made her squirm. ''No, she needs to learn to not talk about teammates that way, especially the ones that have just gotten back from serious injuries, and need time to reintegrate into the group.''
Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, she cast a desperate look at Vivianne, silently pleading for her to intervene and diffuse the situation before it escalated any further.
''Beth, I wasn't-''
''You weren't what? You weren't talking shit to Kyra about us right after the match? You weren't talking shit about us to Kyra on the phone just now?'' The oldest continued in an accusing tone.
Vivianne let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she attempted to defuse the situation. ''Beth.'' She said firmly, her gaze shifting between the two other people at the table.
''I wasn't talking shit about you guys. I would never do that.'' Y/N managed to let out, offended at the mere idea of her not appreciating the two women who'd let her move in with them a 1,5 years ago.
''Y/N, we heard you. On the pitch after the match, with Kyra.'' Beth responded bluntly.
Y/N swallowed hard, slightly ashamed of being caught. ''We were just... we were just frustrated, okay? That comment wasn't directed at any of you guys, it was more at Jonas, to be fair.''
The couple grew silent at the admission, realizing they had greatly misunderstood the two young girls' conversation. ''About Jonas?'' Vivianne repeated, her voice carrying a note of embarrassment.
The young striker nodded. ''Yeah, me and Kyra have just been a bit upset with our game time, that's all. It felt like a repeat of the Tottenham game.''
Beth and Vivianne exchanged a glance, coming to a silent understanding. ''We're sorry for jumping the gun on that one, darling. We really thought we needed to teach you some manners.'' The Brit nervously apologized with a chuckle.
''It's alright, we probably should've been a bit more discreet.'' Y/N brushed her apology off with a hand gesture.
''No, you two are in your full right to complain.'' Vivianne retorted, agreeing on the playing time matter.
The teenager waited a few moments before elaborating. ''I don't mind sitting on the bench, it's great to get rest, you know? But it almost feels like he doesn't trust me to get the game starting or something. I like to think I did great last season, so this kind of sucks.'' She opened up, not having voiced these thoughts to anyone but Kyra.
''You did amazing last season, you stepped up when we needed someone and the team will never forget that.'' Beth smiled, squeezing the youngster' s hand.
''It seems that Jonas forgot.'' Y/N muttered bitterly, looking down at her empty plate.
The couple silenced themselves at her mumbled words, not knowing what the appropriate response would be to cheer her up about the situation. They were indirectly responsible for the young girl to not get as much game time anymore, so whatever they would tell her, she would most likely not feel much better afterwards.
''Just focus on what you're doing right now. Show up to training, recover well, maximize everything in the minutes you do get. Show him that he should trust you to start, and that you deserve to have that spot in the line-up.'' Vivianne chimed in, her voice soft but resolute.
Y/N nodded at the older woman's words, though her demeanor still seemed dejected. ''Yeah, I'll continue to do that.'' It came out somewhat passive aggressive.
''I know it doesn't fix the situation, but you're my personal star girl, regardless whether you play or not.'' Beth softly smiled at her.
The teen managed to crack a small smile back, appreciating the sentiment. ''Thanks, Beth.''
''You're mine too.'' Vivianne added.
''Hey, that's my compliment for her! Find another one if you want to be cute!'' Beth scolded her partner, dramatically feigning annoyance.
The Dutchwoman frowned. ''Everyone calls her ‘star girl'! You're not original either!'' She pouted back.
Y/N couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the banter between the couple, happily accepting the momentary distraction from her frustrations.
Beth playfully rolled her eyes. ''At least I'm complimenting her!''
''Sorry that I was just giving useful advice, Bethany.'' Vivianne retorted.
''Useful.'' The Brit repeated, her voice heavily tinged with sarcasm.
Vivianne's mouth gaped, pretending to be offended. ''It was useful! That's what I would have wanted to hear at 19 year-old.'' She defended herself.
''19 year-old's want to hear praise, Viv. They want to be called star girls, not receive a lecture.'' Beth quickly replied, with a smirk.
''Y/N, it was useful, right?'' The older striker turned towards the teenager.
''Yeah, Y/N, tell Miss Miedema how useful her advice was.'' Beth chorused her words, grinning from ear-to-ear.
The youngster simply glanced between the two of them, before picking up her empty plate and standing up from her seat. ''I'm taking this as my sign to leave.''
She ignored their pleas with a satisfied grin, making her way to the kitchen to dump her plate, and walking back to her room.
The couple watched her depart, sharing a knowing look, a hint of amusement dancing in their eyes. ''She's gonna call Kyra, isn't she?'' Vivianne chuckled.
''She so is.'' Beth agreed with a laugh.
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requests are always welcome!
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iluvmattsbeard · 3 days
Text
Wet Dreamz (m.s)
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master list
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: smut and swearing
preview: matt and you were partners for a project. he unexpectedly started having sinful dreams about you, suddenly craving you ever since. one thing nobody knew; he was a virgin.
“y/n, you will be partnered with Matt.” the teacher says trying to grab your attention. “y/n? are you listening?” you snap out of your thoughts and look at him. “huh?” you ask. “you’re partnered with Matt for this project.” he replies with an unamused look. you look around before you look back at him. “who’s that?” you ask.
he lets out a sigh before speaking, “Matt raise your hand.” you look around again as you catch the eyes of a brown haired boy. you weren’t mad about it. he looked decent.
you get up and walk to where he was sitting. “next time y/n, i expect you to be paying attention. this project will effect your grade drastically if you do poorly.” you hear the teacher say looking at you. all you do is nod. you were barely passing the class.
Matt’s POV
i got paired with y/n. she didn’t even know who i was. i knew of her because she would get in trouble constantly due to her lack of focus. as she came to sit next to me, we clicked right away. we both dreaded school, but who doesn’t? as much as i didn’t like school, i still paid attention, unlike her, so i had to explain the whole point of the project to her.
we exchanged numbers after class so that we could talk about when we could meet up to work on it. we only had two weeks to complete it. i knew i had to stand on top of it because i know she won’t.
a few days pass, me and y/n still working on the project together, with us having to meet at lunch. i got to know a little bit more about her. she was pretty cool to talk to. we even started texting without talking about the project itself. so when this is done, it’d be cool to hang with her.
meeting during lunch really wasn’t a good idea. there was too much distractions. so i took the opportunity to invite her over to my place after school. she agreed and i ended up driving her with me once the final bell rang.
End of Matt’s POV
you and Matt were in his room as you sat on the floor. you were reading over some information from the website the teacher recommended and you were feeling overwhelmed. “all of this is hurting my head.” you say laying back on the floor. Matt lets out a small laugh as he responds, “me too. i don’t get how this will be beneficial in the future.” you shot up looking at him, “exactly! school is so bullshit to me. they don’t even teach real world shit.” you say sighing. “i agree. but i didn’t put up with almost 12 years of school just to fail.” he says. you groan, “right. it would be wasteful. i’m pretty sure you don’t have anything to worry about. my grades are literally on the edge of failing.” “well, i could help you.” he suggests. all you do is let out a laugh, “trust me, teaching me is hard.”
“i’ve been teaching you these past days. trust me i know.” Matt responds as you both let out a laugh. “it’s hot in here.” you say taking off your hoodie, pulling down your shirt as it lifted a bit. Matt looks at you as he catches a glimpse of your cleavage. he looks away quickly, clearing his throat. where has all of that been hiding? he wonders. “well let’s continue working on this.” he says trying to move past it. all you do is nod as you lay on your stomach continuously reading.
when you weren’t paying attention, Matt would stare at you slightly. he would stare at the way your tits were pressed against the floor, thinking how perfect they were.
after a few hours, Matt takes you home. “thank you for the ride.” you say smiling, slinging your backpack on one shoulder. “yeah of course” he replies. you open the door stepping out, but as you get up, your hoodie raises slightly revealing your thong peeking out above your jeans slightly. Matt catches a glimpse turning red. you shut the door and walk away. he sits there in his car for a bit as he gulps before driving away.
Matt arrives home tidying his room before going to bed. he picks up one of his notebooks as he sees a sticky note on it reading, ‘thank you for dealing with me as a partner - Y/N’.
he smiles at the note as he puts it down on his bed side table, getting into bed. as he lays there, he couldn’t help but think about what his eyes caught from you earlier. your cleavage and your thong. he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Matt stop that.” he whispers to himself before shutting his eyes going to sleep.
Matt’s dream POV
you and Matt were sitting on your bed working on the project. Matt wasn’t paying attention to you as much and you were bothered by it. you took matters into your hands and you closed the book he was studying. you got on top of him, sitting on his lap as he gets caught off guard. you pull him into a passionate kiss and next thing you knew, you were under the covers tangled together naked.
End of Matt’s dream
Matt’s POV
i woke up sitting up quickly with my breathing uneven. what was that?! my heart was racing. did i just have a wet dream?!
i pulled up the covers to see a wet stain on top of the crotch of my sweats. what the fuck. this has never happened before. with y/n?! why? because of what i saw yesterday? i never even had sex before. how could i have easily dreamed of it? i gulp before getting up. i head to the bathroom to clean myself. i really can’t believe that just happened. now all i could do is replay it in my head. i groan at the thought.
after i got ready, i headed straight to school. on the drive there, i still couldn’t stop replaying everything that happened in my dream. even if i tried to distract myself, it wouldn’t go away. i needed it bad.
End of Matt’s POV
you and Matt were in class as you tried to tell him a story. all he was doing was nodding and staying quiet. “Matt? are you okay?” you question. he shakes his head before speaking, “yeah- yeah i’m good. sorry.” you give him a questionable look as you reply, “well you weren’t really paying attention as i spoke.” you laugh a bit. “oh i was.” he says with a nervous smile. “yeah okay.” you say turning your body straight, pretending to pay attention to the teacher.
Matt does the same as he groans quietly to himself. he didn’t know if he should tell you or not about what he imagined. he decided to shrug it off.
it was the end of the day again as you both end up at Matt’s house. you were standing up as you rehearsed your lines on what to say for the presentation. Matt just sat there looking lost. “Matt seriously what is wrong? i can’t do this without you, you know?” you say frustrated. “i’m sorry. i’ve just been having a hard time.” he responds scratching the back of his neck. “well we really need to focus on this. if you need to get something off your chest, do it now so we can continue.” you say. Matt hesitates before speaking, “okay well i sort of had an odd dream last night.” you look at him confused. “okay?” you reply. “it wasn’t a normal dream.” he continues.
“what? were you like having sex or something?” you ask jokingly with a laugh. but he just sits there staying silent with a blank face. “oh. oh! you did!” you exclaim. “who was it about?” asking with curiosity. “some random girl from class.” he says lying through his teeth. “so what’s the big deal?” you ask. “this your first time having a wet dream?” all he does is nod. you widen your eyes, “really? that’s new. i would’ve thought you were like every other guy constantly thinking about sex.” letting out a laugh. “why is it bothering you so much?”
“because, it’s weird. especially with this specific girl.” he responds. you raise an eyebrow before asking a question, “have you ever had sex before?” the question takes Matt by surprise as he responds quickly, “of course i have!” he lies. you let out a laugh. “okay! sorry! well then you shouldn’t be so weirded out. now come on. lets focus.” replying to him.
it still was eating him in the inside.
*time skip*
after the weeks flew by, you and Matt got an ‘A’ for your presentation. you decided to celebrate by treating Matt with fast food. you both sat on his bed eating. “thank you for being such a good partner.” you say with a smile taking a bite from your burger. “no, thank you.” he replies. you couldn’t help but notice he still was acting strange these past days. “Matt don’t tell me you’re still on about the sex dream.” you ask wiping your hands with a napkin. “you should just shoot your shot already since it’s eating you up. maybe she’ll feel the same.” he shakes his head, “i wouldn’t know how to approach her. plus, that’s weird. i had a sex dream about her and what? i just walk up to her and tell her that? that's creepy.” he replies. you laugh at his response. “well not quite but, i don’t like how you’re acting so off.” you say taking another bite.
Matt sighs as he shakes his head, “just forget it y/n. i’m fine.” you stop in your place as you shake your head. “okay that’s it.” placing the unfinished food on his side table. you wipe your mouth with a napkin as you look at him. it was silent for a bit until you spoke up, “do you want to kiss me?” you blurt out. Matt’s eyes widen. “what?” he asks.
Matt’s POV
i hesitated for a bit. “to help distract you.” she says with a small laugh. "uh- uh yeah sure." I say hesitantly. i mean i couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. i scoot closer to her. i’ve only ever kissed one other person and i don’t think it was good so maybe this will be different. i can hear my heart pounding out of my chest. i put my hand on her cheek as i lean in and kiss her softly. she scoots closer without breaking the kiss, putting her hands on my shoulders.
to her she might think this is just a distraction but, little did she know my dream was about her. we continue to kiss as she swings her leg around to straddle me. i put my hands on her waist as the kisses get heavier. i could feel myself get hard beneath her and i could tell she notices. i pull away from embarrassment, “i’m so sorry.” i say. all she does is smile and respond with, “it’s okay.” pulling me into another kiss. i could feel her start to grind against my clothed dick. i let out a small groan from the feeling. i pull away as i lay her down gently. “d-do you want to do this?” i say nervously but, i couldn’t expose the fact this would be my first. she nods as she kisses me again. she takes off my shirt as i do the same for her. i unbutton my jeans and pull them off leaving me in my boxers as she does the same with her pants leaving her in her under garments. i gulp looking at her body. come on Matt play it cool. we kiss again as she rubs my dick through my boxers. i really hope i’m big enough.
i reach into my drawer as i pull out a condom. i bought a box just in case i were to lose it. which i am now, so it was good preparation. i open rip off the deal as i look at her. “uh.. i haven’t done this in a while so.. i might not be as good.” i warn her lying. i’ve never done this at all. i had to prepare her just in case i cum quick. “it’ll be good” she reassures me. she takes the condom from my hand as i take off my boxers slowly. i see her eyes widen a bit as she slowly wraps the condom on my dick. i lay her back down, sliding her panties to the side, and align myself at her entrance. she gives me a smile as i look down at what i’m about to do. i push myself into her slowly as i watch her relax.
i hear her moan softly as i continue to push my full length into her. “shit.” i groan quietly. i watch her face as i start to thrust slowly. she shut her eyes as she bites her lip softly. i can’t believe this is happening. my dream finally coming true. i pick up the pace as i put both my hands on her sides. “yes just like that.” she moans out putting her hands on my chest. i kiss her as i continue to go deeper into her keeping my fast tempo.
“fuck Matt you feel so good.” she moans. every time she spoke i felt my dick twitch. her moans were heavenly. “you’re so perfect.” i whisper to her. i lay myself on her slightly as she scratches my back. her scratches were hard as i feel the slight sting.
all my worries disappear once i find out i’m actually doing a good job. she made me feel a bit more confident. as soon as i was about to cum i pull out because i wanted to keep pleasing her. i pull her by her thighs as i put my head in between her legs. i start licking at her folds softly as she lets out a breath. i then start sliding my tongue up and down, swirling my tongue on her clit. i felt her grip my hair lightly. “oh Matt.” she moans. “you taste so good.” i say continuing to eat her out. “Matt i’m going to cum.” she says as i start to suck on her clit. she throws her head back as she arches her back, shoving her pussy more into my face. “yes Matt just like that!” she screams out as she cums all over my mouth.
i get back up as i lick my lips, realigning myself as i thrust back into her sensitive core. she gasps as she grips onto my arms. i thrust at a fast pace before cumming inside her into the condom. “oh fuck.” i moan out.
we were both catching our breath as i pull out of her. i take off the condom and throw it in the trash. "you must be a pro or something. that was incredible.” she says sitting up putting her clothes on.
good to know. little did she know, i ain't ever did this before.
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a/n: not my best work lol. likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! thank you :) - L 🤍
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markiemelon · 2 days
Note
hiii, can you do something with jaemin? like a college friends to lovers?
breakfast
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genre. fluff, crack 🍞
pairings. jaemin x gn!reader
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falling asleep at your friend!jaemin’s place wasn’t your intention.. yet, there you were, knocked out on the couch. you eventually woke up, disoriented and sore, while the smell of burnt toast polluted the air. on the other side of the open room, jaemin stood behind the kitchen counter, preoccupied with scraping char off the bread slices. he perked his head up once he heard you rustling around. “oh. you’re up.”
“what time is it?” you yawned, reaching for your phone, only to find it cold and dead.
“it’s like 10 or something—” his tone was casual, and it threw you off.
“jaemin!” you jumped to your feet. “i had a class at 9!” you continued, “i told you to wake me up if i ever fell asleep here again!” you ran to the bathroom, looking for the toothbrush jaemin got you last time.
his expression became one of shame, like a child being scolded by his mother. “i know, but you just looked so peaceful…”
this isn’t the first time this has happened. more often than not, jaemin invites you to hang out after class.. so you usually find yourself leaving with him to walk to his apartment… you just can’t get enough of him.
once you get there, you hope for a productive afternoon, maybe crank out some assignments. but instead, you end up talking to him all night. you’ll eventually glance at the ungodly hour on the clock, and think, "just 5 more minutes. i'll get going in 5 minutes." 5 minutes turns into 5 hours... and next thing you know, the sun is up, you've slept through all your alarms, and you're grabbing your things to rush out.
“i need to go home-” you pat your hands around the couch, looking for your purse, tossing around the blankets and pillows jaemin put on you while you were asleep.
“wait.” he interjected. “when’s your next class?”
“at 1… but i still have to go home and get dressed...” you sighed, slumping onto the stool at the kitchen island.
“you still have plenty of time to eat breakfast...” jaemin said, nudging over a plate of toast that was grilled to the point of no return.
“jaemin…” you laughed. “im not eating that.” you eyed the dish, and a chill went down your spine. “i’ll just have some cereal.” you helped yourself to his cabinets in a search for a more edible alternative.
sitting across from jaemin at the table, you crunched on your cereal while he picked at his burnt toast… his pride wouldn’t let him throw it out. “so do you wanna come over again later?” he waited for you to chew your food before you replied.
“jaemin, be for real.” you set down your spoon. “i can’t keep coming over on weekdays. i lose track of time and fall asleep.. i can’t keep doing that.”
“why not?” he said, mouth full. “why can’t you fall asleep here?”
“i don’t have my stuff here! no skincare, no clothes…” you counted a finger for each point you listed. “and by the time i wake up, im late, and i still have to go home and get ready...”
“well then.. why not just bring stuff to stay the night.” he cleared his throat. “pack your clothes and skincare and whatever… plus, you already have a toothbrush here.”
“do you want me to stay or something?” you took a sip of juice, eyes peeking over the cup.
“i just like having you around...” he picked at the toast some more, but had yet to actually taste it.
you thought for a moment. “yeah sure.” you shrugged, ignoring the way he just made your heart flutter.
“wait really?” he looked up from his plate.
“i mean… i guess it’s not a problem as long as i bring stuff to stay.” you said, getting up from your seat to go wash your bowl in the sink. jaemin followed right behind you and draped his arms over your shoulders, pulling your back into his chest. “then can you bring stuff to stay longer than 1 night?”
jaemin has always been a pretty affectionate friend, so you didn’t think much of the hug… “maybe i could stay until the weekend..”
“just until the weekend?” he squeezed you a little tighter.
but was he always this clingy?
“na jaemin, when did you get so clingy?”
“well these days, i…” he stopped himself.
“these days, you...?” you hummed, tugging on his arms that were still embracing you, urging for him to finish his sentence. you began swaying side to side ever so slightly. “let’s just stay like this for a minute.” he cooed, catching on to your rhythm, rocking in the silence. he really gave the best hugs. after a moment, he disrupted the stillness of the room. “move in with me.”
hearing him say that so bluntly made your heart drop. flustered, you turned around to face him, his arms now resting on your back. “all of a sudden?” you laughed.
“mm.” he nodded his head to agree, looking at you so endearingly. he gradually inched his face closer to yours, and you didn’t mind.
“jaemin.”
“yeah?” he answered, just inches away.
“are you trying to kiss me right now?” you teased, as your gaze wandered from his eyes to his lips.
“are you gonna let me?” he teased back. you couldn’t hold back your smile, and he basically took that as confirmation.
he didn’t have to lean in much more before his lips were touching yours. your eyes fluttered as his hands gently met your cheeks, even tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“what are we doing?” you whispered in between breaths.
“just enjoy it.” he reassured you.
and for some reason, his words really put you at ease. in that moment, you couldn’t help but enjoy it. you reconnected your lips, and let yourself fall more in love with your best friend than you already were.
his smile forced him out of the kiss. “so does this mean we can have breakfast together every morning?”
you scoffed at his remark. “maybe if you learn how to cook first…”
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@lovesuhng thanks so much for the request!!!! such a cute idea. hope you like it!!!
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huggingkoalas · 2 days
Text
is this hatred? or love? part 1
pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader
synopsis what happens when you have to share a bed with your enemy?
word count 2.9k
warnings fluff, teasing, gunshot wound, reader’s injured, pet names (sweetheart, love), one bed trope, enemies to lovers, they’re both so in denial it makes me want to bang my head against the wall
author’s note haven’t had the time to write in a long time. i honestly had a lot of fun writing this, natasha being the most annoying fucking tease is the biggest headcannon to me <3
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“Need a hand, dorogaya (sweetheart)?”
“Shut up, Romanoff.”
“If you say so.”
With your dominant hand pressed firmly against your wounded abdomen to stem the bleeding, your other hand trembled as it swiped the card through the reader. Natasha leaned her back casually against the adjacent wall, her boredom thinly veiled by a feigned yawn as the reader emitted its third ‘beep’ of rejection due to your insufficient force.
“We’ll be here all day. Aren’t you supposed to have super soldier serum in your blood?” 
“I said shut up.”
With an exasperated scoff, Natasha snatched the card out of your hand. She forcefully swiped it through the reader, the satisfying click of the door unlocking echoing in the corridor. As the door swung open to reveal the dimly lit motel room, Natasha couldn’t help but grin smugly.
“See? Easy as pie.”
You grunted in response, carefully adjusting your stance to maintain pressure on your wound. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it, love.” She replied breezily. 
With a nod of appreciation, you stepped through the doorway, a wave of relief washing over you, although the throbbing pain in your abdomen dampened it. Natasha followed suit, closing the door behind her and locking it. She walked past you, her demeanour shifting subtly from teasing to attentive as she scanned the room. Once she familiarised herself with the layout and window exits, she turned back to you, nodding her head to give you the all-clear.
The room looked ordinary like any other hostel room, with neutral-toned walls and simple furnishings. A small table sat in one corner, adorned with a lamp and a few scattered brochures. Across the room, a worn-out armchair stood next to a narrow window, its curtains drawn shut to block the dim city lights. On the opposite wall, a modest dresser provided limited storage space, its drawers slightly ajar. Despite its lack of luxury, the room emanated a sense of comfort. As you looked around the unremarkable surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude for the simple shelter it provided.
While you were busy surveying the room, Natasha’s attention was on your injured abdomen, a subtle flash of concern in her eyes. The sight of the fresh blood staining your shirt in the brief moments it took to open the door tugged at her heartstrings, even if she would never admit it to you.
“How bad is the wound?” She inquired, pointing a finger towards your abdomen.
You glanced down, noting the slight redness seeping through the fabric and onto your shirt. “Well, I wouldn’t have this wound if someone realised that a HYDRA agent was aiming at them.” You retorted.
Natasha smirked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Hey, it’s not my fault they can’t resist taking a shot at me, I’m irresistible.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle despite the ache in your side. “Irresistible, huh? That’s one way to put it.”
“Of course.” She shrugged casually, giving you a knowing look. “I honestly think we both attract trouble wherever we go. It's probably the only reason Fury paired the two of the biggest troublemakers on this mission, right? He’s probably having the best day of his life without having to deal with us constantly being at each other’s throats.”
You smirked, acknowledging the truth in her words. “Seems like Fury knows what he’s doing after all.”
 “Well, I’d like to think he’s getting some entertainment out of it.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. "Entertainment? More like a headache.”
Her smirk softened into a faint smile as she shook her head. “Just because you saved me doesn’t mean that I don’t hate you still.”
“Likewise, Romanoff. Just because we’re being all buddy-buddy right now doesn’t mean I suddenly like you.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Good. Wouldn’t want things to get too sentimental, partner.”
You knew that the word ‘partner’ was dripping with teasing and sarcasm. The two of you were anything but cooperative with each other. You both frequently exchanged biting remarks, teasing, and insults. You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done to make her despise you so much. You were nice to her when you joined the Avengers all those years ago, but it always seemed that she harboured a deep dislike for you. When you spoke up in a team meeting, she would scowl and you could always feel her gaze burning a hole in your skull.
In the beginning, you tried to get along with her and be as friendly to her as you were to everyone else. From offering her assistance during training or helping her with her mission reports, nothing you did ever seemed to break the coldness and distance in her heart. You knew she wasn’t the most extroverted person, but you never saw her act that way towards others. Eventually, you gave up and decided it was best to ignore her, just as she had ignored you. 
Of course, once you started ignoring her too, Natasha’s behaviour changed. She started teasing and taunting you, finding ways to provoke a reaction from you even when you tried to ignore her. And she kept winning. Her incessant teasing had a way of getting under your skin. It was a frustrating cycle of provocation and reaction. You felt like you were constantly on edge whenever she was around. 
But reluctantly, you couldn’t deny that everything had changed during the mission an hour ago. Despite the heated tensions, you both had an unspoken agreement to watch each other’s backs in battle.
As the weight of the moment settled on you, Natasha’s gaze softened, and her concern for your well-being was evident in the depths of her eyes. “But seriously,” she said, her tone changing to genuine concern, “let me help you tend to that wound before it gets infected.”
You shook your head slightly. “It’s okay, I can take care of it myself.”
Her expression tightened slightly, her concern unwavering. “Stubborn as always,” she muttered under her breath.
You met her gaze with a steely resolve. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve handled worse.”
Her lips formed a thin line, showing her frustration. "Think of it as a way of repaying you for helping me.” She insisted, her voice firm.
You knew she wouldn’t give the matter up. The both of you were equally as stubborn as a mule. “Fine.” You relented, offering a nod. 
“Great,” Natasha replied, a hint of relief in her tone. “To the bathroom then. I’m sure this motel room has a first aid kit somewhere…”
You and Natasha made your way to the bathroom, her footsteps echoing yours. Silently, you took a seat on the edge of the closed toilet seat. You leaned back against the toilet’s tank, the cool porcelain surface offering a brief respite from the tension in your muscles. She wasted no time in retrieving the first aid kit from the mirror cabinet and moving towards you. 
“Take off your shirt,” She instructed, settling the first aid kit on the tiled floor.
Your brows furrowed in surprise at her directive. “W-What?” You stammered, looking down at her with an incredulous look.
Natasha rolled her eyes at your surprise, her patience wearing thin. “Come on, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” she chided, her tone tinged with exasperation. “I can’t clean your wound if you have your shirt on.”
Reluctantly, you began to peel off your shirt cautiously. Each inch revealed the angry red gunshot wound beneath, eliciting a whine as the fabric grazed against your wound. At least you were lucky that the bullet passed through instead of staying inside your body. As more of your skin came into view, Natasha’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. A blush crept onto her cheeks, betraying her normally composed demeanour. Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, the sight of your exposed skin stirred something within her, igniting a warmth that she couldn’t quite suppress. Quickly, she averted her gaze, busying herself with preparing the first aid supplies. Though she tried to hide it, the flush on her cheeks lingered.
As you finally removed your shirt, Natasha’s expression softened even further. “Thank you for sacrificing yourself for me. It was incredibly stupid, though.” She murmured, her voice softer now.
“It’s alright, Romanoff.”
“You can call me Natasha, you know. You’re the only one in the team that still calls me by my last name.”
“Alright, Natasha.” Your lips twitched into a small, appreciative smile. 
In a comfortable silence, Natasha began to carefully clean the wound with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, her touch gentle yet precise. The warmth of her fingertips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. As she worked, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her, admiring the focused expression on her face.
Natasha’s brows furrowed as she delicately dabbed at the wound, her lips forming a thin line. Now and then, she would scrunch her nose up, a small, endearing gesture that softened her usual stoic expression. Despite the pain, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sight of her.
Once the wound was cleaned and dressed, her gaze met yours with a sense of satisfaction. “There,” she said softly, relief in her voice. “All done.”
You offered her a grateful smile, “Thank you.”
A small, genuine smile curved Natasha’s lips as she met your gaze. “Anytime, dorogaya (sweetheart).”
As she rose to her feet, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You were well-acquainted with Natasha’s tendency to use nicknames on you, especially ‘dorogaya’, but it was typically wielded with a teasing edge. This time, however, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual teasing tone. Instead, it carried a genuine warmth that caught you off guard.
“Uh…” You stammered, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at the unexpectedly sincere endearment. Clearing your throat, you tried to push aside the fluttering in your chest.
Her smile widened at your reaction. “Nervous, are we?”
“Shut up, Natasha.” 
She chuckled softly at your retort, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she teased, her tone light and playful.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips despite the warmth still lingering in your cheeks. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.
With a shake of her head, Natasha reached down to offer you a hand. “Come on, let’s get you back on your feet,” she said.
You hesitated for a moment, touched by her gesture, before placing your hand in hers. With a steady grip, she helped you to your feet. She moved to the doorway before looking at you over her shoulder. “I’ll let you shower first. Try not to get water on the dressing.”
“Got it.”
With a final nod of acknowledgement, Natasha closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the quiet of the bathroom. Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you slipped off the rest of your clothes and placed them in a pile with your soiled shirt. A sense of relief washed over you at the prospect of washing away the grime of the day’s events. You turned on the water, allowing the warm cascade to envelop you as you stepped beneath the stream. Despite the lingering ache in your abdomen, the sensation of the water against your skin was soothing, easing the aching tension that had settled in your muscles.
As you stood beneath the spray, you couldn’t help but reflect on the events that led to this moment. Fury had sent you and Natasha on what was supposed to be a routine mission, but as these things often went, it spiralled into chaos. The intel given was faulty, the security stronger than anticipated, and you were in over your heads before you knew it. It was a mission gone wrong, one of those rare instances where even the most meticulous planning couldn’t prevent disaster.
In the aftermath of the debacle, with your injuries sustained and the mission being held in another country, there was no choice but to seek refuge in a motel room for a night before a Quinjet could transport you back to the Avengers Compound. Fury had booked a motel room for you and Natasha, a nondescript haven tucked away from prying eyes. It was a humble accommodation, far removed from the luxuries of the Compound, but at least it provided a temporary sanctuary where you could tend to your wounds without drawing unwanted attention.
As you stood beneath the shower’s warm spray, the mission’s events were still fresh and raw as they replayed in your mind like a relentless loop. The close calls, the split-second decisions, the adrenaline-fueled rush of combat. And yet, despite the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remained constant — Natasha fighting with you side-by-side.
You couldn’t help but marvel at Natasha’s resilience. Her determination even in the face of overwhelming odds. She had saved your life more times than you could count, her skills as an assassin matched only by her unwavering loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. 
However, this time was different. During the mission, the roles had been reversed. In a moment of instinct, you had thrown yourself between Natasha and the gun aimed in her direction, putting your own life on the line to protect hers. The only reason you could think of for making a reckless decision like that was that simple —  you couldn’t bear the thought of losing Natasha, even if you hated her with your whole heart. There was no hesitation as you acted on pure instinct, driven by a need to protect her.
As the warm water washed away the physical remnants of the mission, you emerged from the shower. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as the steam-filled air gave way to the coolness of the room. 
Immediately, your gaze was drawn to Natasha, who sat on the edge of the bed, her expression a mix of surprise as she took in your appearance. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves at the intensity of her gaze, prompting you to tighten the towel around yourself in a subconscious attempt to shield your modesty.
Finally, Natasha broke the silence. “Sorry for staring. I.. uh-” She faltered for a moment, her words trailing off as she cleared her throat, seemingly struggling to find the right thing to say. “We have a problem. There’s only one bed.” 
Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for how to respond. You looked down at the singular bed Natasha was sitting on. You couldn’t help but feel a flush of embarrassment colour your cheeks. The prospect of sharing a bed with Natasha added a whole new layer of complexity to your already complicated relationship with her.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Natasha suggested, standing up.
You felt a pang of guilt wash over you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be fair for her to sacrifice her comfort for your sake.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You interjected quickly. “You take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.”
Natasha crossed her arms, regarding you with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not being ridiculous. You’re the one that’s injured, you should get the bed instead.”
You shook your head. “I appreciate the concern but I really can’t let you sleep on the floor. We’re both equally exhausted from the mission and besides, you need a good night’s rest too.”
Natasha’s expression softened, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I can’t let you sleep on the floor either,” she countered, her voice firm.
You sighed, realizing that neither of you would easily back down from this standoff. “Alright, how about this,” you proposed. “We share the bed. It’s really small, so we’ll have to sleep pressed up against each other, but at least neither of us has to sleep uncomfortably.”
Natasha hesitated for a moment, considering your offer. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone softening with concern.
“I’m sure.” You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “Go take a shower. You smell.”
She chuckled softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. “Yes ma’am.”
As Natasha disappeared into the bathroom, you took a moment to collect your thoughts, relieved that the tension between you had dissipated, at least for now. Sharing a bed with her was certainly going to be an… interesting experience.
You reached for the bag you had dropped near the doorway and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. Quickly, you dressed yourself. As you settled into bed, you heard the door open as Natasha emerged from the bathroom. You were facing away from her as you felt the bed dip behind you when she got into bed. Feeling her presence behind you, you turned your head to offer her a small smile. 
“Can I… wrap my arm around you? It’s the only way we’ll both fit in this bed.” Natasha remarked, her voice laced with a hint of embarrassment. 
You chuckled softly, feeling the tension easing further as you nodded in agreement. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”
As Natasha shifted closer, her front pressed up against your back and her arm gently encircling your waist, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at the sudden intimacy. Despite the awkwardness, there was a surprising comfort in the warmth of her touch, and you found yourself relaxing further in her embrace.
“Goodnight, Y/N.” Natasha murmured, her breath warm against your ear.
“Goodnight, Natasha.” You replied, a sense of contentment settling over you as you closed your eyes.
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frannyzooey · 2 days
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Down the Hall
Frankie Morales x f!reader
Tags: Explicit, age gap because you know what I'm about (Frankie is your mom’s boyfriend, he is in his 40s, you are in your mid-20s)
A/N: Yea….so this is dedicated to @intheorangebedroom who inspired this entire idea and to @whatsnewalycat whose beautiful brain and writing inspired me as well. Thank you to @astroboots for cheering me on, to @bageldaddy for the super in depth beta and to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who soothed by "does this hit" worries — your minds are golden and I am so happy you support this utter filth. Ily ❤️
He thought that dating someone his own age would ground him, steady him. Not that he ever paid much attention to the age of the women he dated, but he thought with someone who had their own shit figured out, he might be inspired to do the same. 
Unmoored and unattached since he joined the army in his twenties, he was pushing forty now and craved some kind of routine. Living alone gave him too much time for thinking, too many hours spent inside his own head. He knew that living like that for too long could lead to bad decisions and thought he might hold himself to a higher standard when he saw how they held themselves to one. 
He met her at a bar – the most cliche of meeting places, but for good reason. She was out with friends after work and from the start, he was attracted to the way she smiled with her whole mouth. Everything about her seemed sensuous and fun, so inviting that he found himself drawn in and when he asked if he could take the seat next to her, he matched her smile with one of his own. 
When she invited him home that night, he buried himself deep while feasting on that generous mouth. 
He stayed that night, and then one night became twice a week, became three – and before he knew it, his lease was up on his apartment and he moved in. It was nice to come home to someone after work. To know that someone was there, wondering how his day went. To have a warm body curled up next to him in bed. 
She was so independent, so driven. A corporate job that required her to dress in slippery blouses and pretty skirts with heels; the same he loved to strip from her when she came home all stressed out the way she did sometimes. And she had a kid – a daughter – already in college somewhere on the east coast, but that didn’t bother him. Dating in his forties meant people already had their own histories, and he was no exception. 
Sometimes after she fell asleep and he had time alone to think, he still felt something that itched beneath his skin. Something that pulled at him from within, something that remained unsettled. He told himself that it was just an adjustment period after so many years of being unattached, and shoved those feelings deep down inside of him, determined to ignore them until he taught himself a new way to live. 
Her breathing deep and steady beside him, he told himself that she was good for him. 
That was what counted.
He was all for it when she told him her daughter was coming home to stay the summer between semesters. He liked the idea of having another person in the house – another distraction, another responsibility to take him out of his own head. 
He worked odd hours, and during his off days, Frankie took up the task of preparing her daughter’s old room. Light pink walls, a creamy bedspread dotted with delicate flowers: his mind supplied an automatic image of the little girl that lined the hallway in frames. He knew she was older than that now, but the way her mom talked about her, he couldn’t help imagining a little kid. 
Tasked with picking her up from the airport the day she arrived, he had just stepped out of the shower when he heard the doorbell. Frowning, he tugged a shirt over his damp curls, and opened the door.
Jesus Christ. Speechless, he stared at the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. 
“Sorry I didn’t call,” you apologized, tugging a heavy bag higher up on your shoulder. “I got in early and thought an Uber would be faster.”
He stood there for a moment, just staring, his mouth slightly parted in confusion. And then he saw it: the shape of your eyes, the curve of your lush mouth. The resemblance stamped across your delicate features.
“I couldn’t find my key.” You stood there, looking uneasy on your own doorstep. “You must be Frankie. Or is it Francisco? My mom said you’d be here. It’s nice to meet you.”
At the rounded sound of his full name coming from your mouth, his gaze snapped back to meet your eyes while you hung there, clearly waiting for him to say something. His body was slow to catch up with his brain, the little girl his mind supplied was gone, replaced by the vision that stood in front of him. Still young and fresh-faced, but grown nonetheless and so, so fucking beautiful. 
When you gestured towards the house behind him, he finally shook himself from the initial shock.
“Shit,” he apologized, stepping back out of your way. “Yea, it’s Frankie. Nice to meet you.” You gave him a half smile, and when you stepped inside, he reached for your bag. “Here, let me grab that.”
His hand dragging through his curls, he stood in the entryway and watched you make yourself at home: your shoes immediately kicked off on the doormat, your jacket hung neatly next to his own like it had always belonged there. 
“Do you know when my mom gets home?”
He cleared his throat, trying not to stare at the length of your legs underneath the hem of your shorts. “Uh, she said probably around six? That’s when she usually gets home.”
You nodded, holding your hand out for your bag and for a split second, he wondered if he should bring it upstairs for you. It would be the polite thing to do, but the idea of entering your room now felt like overstepping. You weren’t a kid, you didn’t need him like that. The boundaries had suddenly blurred and shifted, and he whisked away the image of you settling into your bedroom just as fast as it popped into his head. 
When you grabbed the bag from him, he felt relief. 
It was easy to avoid you for the afternoon while you got settled. Instead, he mowed the lawn, prepared dinner, all the while with his ears attuned to the sound of you walking around above him. He felt on edge, anxious. The excitement he thought he would feel with someone else in the house had turned into unease. 
He made himself an outsider, even more so when your mom came home. Not wanting to intrude on your time together, he stayed in the kitchen to cook dinner for the two of you and delivered it to the living room, placing your plates on the coffee table. 
“Thank you, baby, that’s so nice.” Your mother scooted forward, tilting her chin up towards him in a silent request for a kiss. 
Granting it to her, he felt her familiar hold slip around the back of his neck to keep him in place for a moment, keenly aware of the way you were right there. For a split second while his lips were still on hers, he glanced up at you and it was clear that he caught you watching by the way you hastily looked away the second he met your eyes. 
He fucked her hard that night, his hand over her mouth so you wouldn’t hear. 
She was gone in the morning when he made his way downstairs, and he was pleasantly surprised to find coffee already in the pot. 
“I made extra,” you said, from your perch on the chair at the table. Sleep shorts high on your thighs, an oversized tee shirt covering your top half. The way it engulfed you made you look younger than you were. 
He looked away, busying himself with pouring a cup. 
“I drink a lot, so I made a lot,” you explained with shy self-deprecation. 
“Sounds good to me,” he replied, sitting down at the table. “Got any plans for today? Or for the summer, I guess?” 
Wading the tentative waters of getting to know someone, he watched your fingers play with the edge of the paper. 
“Just relax for a bit, I think? Catch up with some old friends? No plan really. I just didn’t want to hang out on a deserted campus.”
He nodded. “Makes sense.” 
And so began the morning routine you would both share for the next few weeks. Hesitant and quiet around each other in the beginning, sliding into something normal fairly fast. Your mother was early to rise and early to bed, but he had never been and neither were you. 
He joined you in the late morning at the kitchen table, the curve of your soft cheek highlighted in the slant of light through the window. On the couch at night, a different kind of illumination from the light of the TV, yet hitting your cheek just the same. Your things scattered around the living room, your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom, your clothes mixed with his in the wash. 
Your proximity was what he blamed for the constant thoughts he had about you. 
Every morning he admired how rumpled you looked, how sleepy and soft and inviting. It was endearing, but soon other thoughts edged out the more innocent ones: thoughts about your legs wrapped around his waist, your slender fingers wrapped around something other than a coffee cup. 
The want he felt for you pooled in various places inside him: his brain, his chest, between his thighs. It spilled down the shower drain and spilled hot across his stomach. 
It flooded your mother’s mouth, and she was none the wiser.
Afterwards, she tucked her face into the meat of his shoulder, pressing a kiss against the skin there. Sated and content, she curled herself around him. “Let’s do something this weekend together. Actually make use of that pool we have for once.”
A barbecue. She’d been talking about having one for a while. 
“We’ve been working so hard. I feel like I barely even see you, honey.” 
Something akin to guilt tugged at him, thinking of the shifts he had been picking up in an effort to avoid you. Your eyes, your smile, your stupid sleep shorts.
He hummed his agreement and she kissed him in thanks, her breaths eventually evening out as she fell asleep. 
Frankie lay awake, the image of your closed bedroom door stuck in his mind. 
“Jesus Christ,” you murmured as you watched Frankie climb out of the pool. 
Broad, bare shoulders, tanned swathes of skin, cute little dimples just above his ass. Water ran down over his tanned skin, the thin material of his swim shorts stuck to his ass and when he turned around to grab a towel off a nearby chair, you were glad for your sunglasses.
Fuck me. 
The material of his shorts molded to every inch of his thick cock, the shape clearly outlined. Oblivious, he ran the towel over his curls, over his shoulders and arms, down his torso – and when his hand gingerly pulled the material away from his crotch, you memorized the swirl of dark hair that surrounded his navel and led down.  
“Can you help me with the grill, honey?”
Your mom’s voice pulled your attention away from him. 
Her boyfriend, you reminded yourself. Frankie was her boyfriend.
“Yea,” he called back, chucking his towel on the chair. “Be right there. Let me put a shirt on.”
The shirt he shrugged over his head was the same one you folded that morning. The material was threadbare and super soft, the muscles of his back shifting underneath the thin fabric as he sauntered over to the grill. You knew the way it felt in your hands, and at the thought of his body heat through the material, you pressed your thighs together. 
The afternoon sun bathed you in warmth, but it was nothing compared to the heat that pooled inside your bottoms as you continued to watch him from your recline by the pool. His brown curls glinted in the sun, his throat bobbing with a swallow when your mother brought him a beer. 
When his eyes flashed over to you, you finally looked away. 
You saw those deep, doleful brown eyes in your sleep. 
You felt them on you all the time: in the dark living room during family movie time, your mother curled up against his side. In the kitchen after dinner, when you loaded the dishwasher while he put away the food. In the mornings, when you pretended to read the paper while he snuck hooded peeks at you and drank you in. 
Startled by his handsomeness from the very first time you laid eyes on him, your crush only grew with every passing day spent in his company. He was so thoughtful, so attentive and kind, but it was something else buried within his gaze that drew you in. 
A barely restrained want that shone clear on his face every time he looked at you. A need simmering under the surface, you saw the way he fought it. 
You thought about him constantly: imagined him crowding you against the counter in the kitchen, saw him pulling back the shower curtain to join you, pretended your fingers were his in your bed at night. 
Born out of your own need, you pushed him. Played with the limits of his self control, desperate for him to make a move. No action overt enough to be blatant, the way he stared at you made you feel confident, bold. The want pouring off his skin when you hung around him was obvious and thick, filling the space between the two of you until he inevitably excused himself. 
When it’s time to eat, you take a seat next to him on the bench, your thigh pressed hot against his. You waited for him to pull away, but he never did and the intimate sensation of the hair on his leg brushing against your own smoother skin made it hard to eat, though you missed it when he got up. 
Your mother, one margarita too many and giggly and loose, pulled him into a dance under the stars that had just begun to come out. He humored her, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her close, smiling at every murmured secret she slipped into his ear. 
You watched the scene unfold right in front of you with a fond, humoring expression, and his eyes kept finding yours, flashing in the darkness. 
You pretended nonchalance, but the entire time, you wanted. 
He took her to bed while you cleaned up the kitchen. 
You knew he fucked her – you heard it sometimes. They tried to be quiet for your sake but sometimes a whimper would slip down the hall, the deep reverberation of a groan in the dark. 
Climbing into bed that night, your mind lingered on the image of his wet swim trunks. The dark swirl of hair, the heft in the outline. 
You wondered what he fucked like with a cock like that. 
“Something’s going on in the Arizona market,” your mom explained, tossing items into her suitcase. A silk blouse spilled over the side, and you tucked it back in with the rest. “I’ll be gone through Thursday, maybe Friday? Hopefully not the weekend, but I’ll let you know.”
“Do you need a ride to the airport?” 
Smiling at you, she stepped forward and cupped your cheek with her hand for a moment. “That’s sweet, honey, but I’m good. Frankie’s got it.”
Apprehension swirled with anticipation, the joint feelings settled low in your gut. You’d been alone with him before, but never for this long. Never truly alone, for days on end. 
The man himself poked his head around the corner of the doorway, the width of his shoulders filling out the frame. He glanced at you, and then his watch. “You about ready, baby?” 
She bustled around the room, tossing things here and there onto the bed and he looked at you again, a slight frown pulling between his brows. 
His expression gave something akin to frustration, and for a split second, you thought it was because of the time your mom was taking. When you felt his dark eyes drop down the length of your body involuntarily and then back up again, you turned away with a small smile, knowing it to be something else. 
For the first couple days, he stayed away from the house as much as he could. Kept his distance until he ran out of errands, until he drove down the same stretch of road too many times. He didn’t trust himself to be alone with you, and he hated himself for it. 
Self loathing creeped in every time he thought about the way his jeans tightened even thinking of you alone in the house. His girlfriend’s fucking daughter, half his age. The whole thing was fucked up. 
And yet, he couldn’t stop. 
He felt bad, thinking of you suddenly being all alone after spending so much time with people around, but he told himself that you probably loved having the space to yourself. 
He came in the shower that morning to the thought of your mouth wrapped around the base of his cock, and he was unable to look you in the eye when he saw you in the kitchen afterward. Your hopeful expression lingered in his mind all day as he stretched out the hours. 
The sky turned from light blue to dark, and he finally caved. He couldn’t stay away forever. 
The house was quiet when he walked in, tossing his keys on the entryway table. He crept around, looking for any sign of your presence, until he heard the shower running upstairs. Light spilled down the staircase, and heading into the kitchen, he tried to push down the thoughts running rampant in his head. 
He drank a glass of water, listening. 
The shower turning off (your naked body, damp and warm), your footsteps padding down the hall (that smooth skin, hidden under your towel), your bedroom door shutting (the towel dropping onto your floor). 
He stayed downstairs, turning the TV on to distract himself, the air in the house charged with a magnetic pull from your room. He waited until there had been nothing but silence for the better part of a half hour, then dared to venture upstairs. 
He’d just say goodnight, that’s all. Just so you knew you weren’t alone. 
His knuckles rapped against your door, and he pushed it open when he heard you say come in. 
“Hey,” you greeted him, slight surprise on your face. Stretched out in bed, the inviting cloud of your comforter was plush underneath your body. You paused the movie you were watching, and sat up on your elbows. “Haven’t seen you in a couple days.”
“Yea,” he replied, leaning against the frame of your door. His eyes followed a slow path up your bare legs. 
“Work been crazy or something?” you asked.
“Something like that, yea,” he answered. His hand stayed on the knob of your door, an anchor that kept him from crossing a line. “I actually just stopped by to say goodnight. I’m gonna turn in.”
“Already?” you teased. “It’s pretty early, isn’t it? Aren’t you gonna live it up while my mom is gone?”
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve lived it up enough. I’m an old man, remember? We don’t do that kind of stuff.”
“Forty-five is hardly an old man,” you scolded with a smile. “You wanna watch a movie instead?”
You patted the bed next to you, and his face sobered. You didn’t see it, instead reaching for the lotion on your bedside table to work some into your hands and the image of you jerking his cock with that same lotion flashed across his mind. He frowned. 
“In here?” 
You shrugged, laying back down. “I mean, I’m already all set up in here…”
You left the offer hanging, and even though he knew - he fucking knew he shouldn’t - he found himself nodding. 
You looked surprised at his answer for a split second, and then pleased. 
“Let me go get changed.”
He walked down the hall towards his room, scolding himself the entire time. Don’t do this, don’t do this, don’t go back into that fucking room. Don’t think about how smooth her skin is and how much you want to kiss her.  Don’t think about how her sheets smell like her, don’t think about how much you want to lick her cunt. 
The thoughts ran on a loop as he peeled off his work clothes. 
They echoed in his head as he pulled on his sweats. 
They followed him out of his bedroom and all the way down the hall, stopping at your doorway.
You turned your head, looking at him expectantly, looking so fucking lush and innocent, so eager to have him join you. 
He swallowed hard, mouth watering and left his guilt in the hallway, joining you in bed.
Pretending to ignore the heavy blanket of tension pulsing between your bodies, you kept your eyes fixed on the screen. 
Stretched out next to you, he kept a respectable distance, but you felt the heat that poured off of his skin. He looked so large in your bed, so much like a man. His long limbs splayed out over your girlish comforter, his masculine scent filled the space and when he crossed his arms, you admired the way the hem of his sleeve stretched around his bicep. 
Lightheaded and trembling with a heady want that ached between your thighs, you made it through the whole movie – until the room descended into darkness, until the credits rolled and the screen went black  
Until it was just the two of you sitting side by side in the dark. 
The sheets rustled when you rolled onto your side to face him. 
“What did you think?” you asked quietly. 
He looked down at you from his slouch on the bed, and your fingers twitched with the need to smooth away the crease that rested permanently between his brows. You would think he was mad if not for his eyes: those always look conflicted more than anything. Constant turmoil, roiling deep within the dark depths. 
Not answering, he stared down at you for a long moment before shrugging. 
“Okay, I guess. Well, have a good night.”
He then started to slide off the bed. 
Disappointment flooded your chest, the tension that you’d been feeling for the last two hours releasing restlessly through your limbs. Already making plans to get your vibrator from your side table to use while burying your face into the sheets he was just sitting on, he stilled. 
Your eyes fixed on his broad back, you could almost see the decision being made and he quickly turned before he could convince himself to stop. 
Bending down, he kissed you. 
It was consuming. The brush of his mustache, the taste of his mouth, the weight of his solid body as he pushed you into the bedding, draping it over yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth to slide against your own, and he swallowed the soft sound that caught in the back of your throat. Pushing himself into the cradle between your thighs, he forced them open wider as he deepened the kiss, and his dry, calloused hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt, wrapping around your hip. 
You knew you should push him away, but your hands only dragged him closer, grabbing everything you could touch: the slip of his curls, the curve of his whiskered jaw, the rounds of his broad shoulders. You dug your fingertips into his sides as he ground his hips against yours and your knees hitched higher around his torso. 
His hand wrapped around the top of your shin, pushing down to hold you in place.  
“Jesus,” he breathed into your mouth between kisses, his fingers tightening in their hold before sliding down to touch everything he can: the meat of your hips, his big hand cupping your ass with a greedy squeeze. Need rolled off of him in waves, his touch betraying just how long he had thought about this and his mouth shifted down to devour the long line of your neck, tasting the sweet hollow of your throat. 
Your pulse beat fast under his tongue, speeding up when he let out a groan against the sensitive skin. 
“Take – take this off–” he sat back on his ankles, his hands fumbling with your shirt.
As soon as you pulled it over your head, his mouth latched onto your nipple. His tongue swirled around it, sliding over the peaked bud with a suck. His beard scraped across your sensitive skin, leaving a wet path that glistened over the plane of your chest as he dragged his mouth to your other breast and his heavy hand reached down to cup you wholly over your sleep shorts. 
His fingers dug into the dip of your entrance and the heel of his hand ground hard against your clit. 
“I can’t stop thinking about this pussy,” he confessed. His fingers rubbed harder, and he groaned hot against your skin. “I can already feel how soaked she is for me. How much she wants it.”
You nodded with a whimper, rolling your hips into his touch. “God yes. Please.”
He pulled back just enough to stare down at your face, his pitch black eyes sliding over your features to settle on your open mouth. “Tell me you want this. Tell me how much you want my cock.”
“Yes. Please, please,” you begged.
“It’s gonna be a lot, baby.” He wetted his bottom lip with his tongue, his hand working, working, working. “She’s gonna need to be wet to take what I need her to take.”
A fresh wave of arousal washed through you, and your sleep shorts clung to your center with every grind of his palm. His thick fingers nudged the fabric to the side, exploring. 
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, releasing a heavy breath. “Fuck.” 
His eyes fluttered shut with a frown as his touch slid through your soaked seam and kissing you again, he timed the slide of his tongue with the slick stretch of two fingers. 
Your thighs opened wider around his waist, a whine crawling out of your throat when he pushed them deeper and when he started a smooth, audible stroke, you started to ride his hand. 
You’d been watching his fingers for months: wrapped around the steering wheel in the car, loosely cradling the neck of a beer bottle, drumming against his thigh when he watched TV sometimes. You’d imagined them tucked inside you so many times, buried in your mouth or your cunt, and as he worked a third one in, you let out a filthy moan. 
“I gotta work it open, baby,” he soothed, pulling your earlobe between his lips. “It’ll be okay. I know you can take it.”
His hips started to follow the rhythmic roll of his hand and when he seemed satisfied with how much you could take, he slid his fingers out, reaching to tear his shirt off over his head. When he pushed his fingers into his mouth for a moment, his lips wrapping around his knuckles as he sucked your taste off the thick digits, his hooded eyes took in the way you scrambled to take your sleep shorts off. 
Following your lead, he dumped everything onto the floor beside your bed, and it felt like heaven when you felt his bare skin against the inside of your thighs. So broad, so firm and strong, his body pressed you into the mattress and you felt the hot, pulsing heft of his cock pushing against your cunt. You clenched at the teasing sensation of what was to come, and reached down to grasp him, but his hand caught yours and pushed it into the bedding above your head. 
“Let me do it. I wanna watch your face when I put it in,” he confessed, resting his weight on top of you as he reached down with his other hand to guide himself in. 
Sticky slick smeared between the both of you, and when the tip of his cock forced you to bloom around him, his eyes fixed on your face. Greedily, he devoured the sight of your mouth dropping open, a tiny tiny frown appearing between your brows and he thickened inside you, pushing forward.
“Fuck,” you moaned. “It’s so much.” So much more than you ever thought it would be, even with all the months spent imagining it. 
He bottomed out and the air froze in your lungs, your cunt stuffed fuller than it’s ever been. 
“Shhh,” he soothed, staying in place to let you adjust. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re so fucking tight, baby. So tight.”
Squirming underneath him, you hitched your knees higher around his torso and he rocked his hips to slide halfway out before grinding back in with a weighted push. He gave you a minute: a tense minute, a minute thick and full of wanting, a minute where all you could focus on was the stretch of his cock and the heated bulk of his body and the firmness of his chest pressed against yours. 
He brushed his lips against yours, and gently rolled his hips. 
“Do you know how much I’ve thought about this? About fucking you, in this bed?” His voice deep and breathless, it sounded overwhelmingly intimate breathed against your cheek. 
You shook your head. 
“I thought I was the only one,” you admitted. “I used to think – oh fuck – I used to think about you coming down the hallway in the night. Crawling into my bed and fucking me just like this. Just like I can hear you fuck her.”
“You listen to me fuck her?” His hips rocked forward a little faster, picking up pace. 
“I can’t help it,” you whined. “The sounds – the sounds you make. I wanted to make you make them. I wanted to be the reason.”
His fingers pushed through the hold of your own, locking your hands together above your head and he dug his knees into the bed for leverage. Your breasts shifted underneath him, bouncing lightly as he fucked into you harder and his eyes dropped down to watch. “You are, baby. You are. I think about you all the time.”
Building steadily underneath him, your head pushed back into the bedding and his mouth found your throat, his teeth scraping against the tender skin. His hips never stopping their filling grind, you pushed your fingers through his curls and when he bit down with a suck, a slurred yes slipped out of your outstretched throat. 
You imagined your mom seeing it, asking you if you went on a date with someone. 
His strokes got harder, harsher, his hips snapping against yours and digging your fingers into the soft globes of his ass, you forced him deeper. When you clenched around his thick length, he looked down at you, wrecked and desperate. 
“I wish I tasted you,” he groaned. “Next time, okay?”
You frantically nodded, unable to focus on anything but the bright, shining edge of your release. 
He could see it, feel it in the squeeze of your soaked cunt and his vision blurred around the edges, his own want building at the base of his spine. 
“You gonna come?”
You are. The sounds he’s making above you and the way he feels inside you and the scent and need rolling off his skin and those fucking pitch black eyes that have been in your dreams for months – 
Slick dripped down the curve of your ass, your hips locking up underneath him and when you came with a silent cry, he groaned deep and loud, fucking you right through it. 
“Tell me I can fucking come inside you. Say it,” he pleaded, fingers gripped on your chin to hold your gaze on his. His words punctuated by the snap of his hips, you nod your head. 
“Do it,” you whined.
Your fingers threaded through his curls, it’s the tug that you give that does it. Coming harder than he had in his fucking life, he filled your tight cunt with thick ropes of his spend. Endless, smeared over the shaft of his thick cock as he continued to pump into you because he couldn’t stop, slipping out to drip onto the delicate sheets below. 
“Christ,” he groaned, his jaw clenched as the veins in his neck strained above you, his hips stuttering. Slowing them into a languid roll against your own, his softening cock was still a thick, filling weight inside and when he looked down at you, you recognized the guilt that already flooded the brown depths. 
You stared right back, holding him tight. 
“Stay,” you murmured, holding him in place when he started to roll off of you. 
You wanted to remember this. The hot press of his skin against yours, tacky and slick with sweat. The warm gust of his breath over your lips, the rapid beat of his pulse under his flushed neck. The wild curls that stuck damply along his hairline, the brush of his fingers as he tenderly thumbed at the curve of your jaw. 
He swallowed and you could see the war in his eyes, something you recognized as being there from the start. His hand curled over the crown of your head, and you pressed a kiss to his throat. 
“You can’t –” he started, eyes fluttering shut at the press of your mouth. “You can’t tell your mom about this, okay. We can’t say anything.”
We. You reveled in the sound of the word, your head nodding underneath him. A secret to share. Something for the two of you alone. 
“I won’t,” you promised. “Just don’t leave, okay?”
You felt small and vulnerable asking, and when he looked down at you, a glimpse of the girl he imagined on that very first day tugged at his memory. Not the age he pictured of course, but the way you needed him. 
The way he wanted you to need him all along. 
His face nuzzled yours, his nose sliding across your cheek. A kiss pressed against the soft, youthful curve of your cheek that he had admired for months, he nodded with your sweet taste still lingering on his tongue. 
“I won’t, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
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russo-woso · 1 day
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please make Mini Williamson a series I loved it so much!!
Milestones || A Mini Williamson story
If you haven’t read part one, it is here.
Leah loved milestones. Whether it was a first date, a first kiss, a first anniversary, she loved it.
What she loved even more, was when the milestones included Amelia.
When Amelia had her first bottle, Leah cried as she held Amelia in her arms whilst feeding her.
When Ami could hold her head up properly. Leah wasn’t home at the time due to her training, but you knew she’d want to know and so you phoned her and she stopped training and drove home to celebrate.
When Amelia started crawling. You were all sat in the living room and Leah was on the floor with Ami. Amelia was having her tummy time for the day and soft giggles filled the room as Leah played with some of her toys with her.
Your heart melted as you heard the giggles escaping Ami’s mouth.
You watched on as Leah encouraged her to crawl.
She set Ami up on her knees and after about seven times of Amelia face planted the soft carpet, she set one knee in front of the other and made her way over to her mummy.
Leah’s smile widened as she realised Amelia had crawled for the first time. Once Ami had reached Leah, Leah enveloped her in a hug, Amelia immediately melting into Leah’s body.
Unknowingly to Leah, you had recorded the whole thing.
You posted it on TikTok and the fans loved it.
And Leah did too. She loved the thought of being able to show her fans the pride she felt for Amelia in that moment.
However, the biggest milestone Amelia had achieved was her first steps.
Just four days before her first birthday, Amelia took her first steps.
Alessia, Amelia’s godmother, had come down to St Albans to spend the weekend for Amelia’s birthday.
Most of the Arsenal and England girls had been invited for a get together for her birthday, but Alessia insisted that she wanted to spend the weekend because she hadn’t seen you all in months.
You couldn’t say no, you loved Alessia like she was your little sister and having her around was always a treat.
It had been a quiet day. Leah had gone to training in the morning which meant you and Amelia spent the day showing Alessia round St Albans.
You went in a few shops and bought a few lasts minute gifts for Ami.
With a mix of yours and Leah’s presents for her, plus all your family and friends, It was safe to say that she was going to be spoilt for her birthday.
The current spare bedroom, was filled with presents.
Alessia was sleeping in the spare bedroom and was constantly going on about how toys were falling on her whilst she was sleeping.
You arrived back home just in time for Leah to get back from training.
You had made a cuppa for both you and Less, settling on the couch before Leah walked through the door.
She walked into the living room, planting a kiss on your lips before picking up Amelia who laughed as Leah pressed kisses all over her face.
Alessia was sat on the floor playing with Ami whilst you and Leah spoke about her training session.
“It was like a rocket, baby. It went straight past Manu.” Leah explained, and you smiled at her genuine excitement.
“I’m sure it did, le. Well done, love.” You said to her, cuddling more into her side as you continued to watch Alessia play with Amelia.
You watched as Amelia tried to climb up to stand.
She had mastered standing at that point but it was just the walking part.
Less helped stabilise her before encouraging her to walk.
With the speed of light, Leah had separated from your touch and found herself sitting opposite Alessia.
“Come on, baby girl, you can do it.” Leah said to Amelia, who couldn’t understand a words Leah had just said.
Amelia put one foot in front of the other and slowly made her way to Leah.
You all clapped her on as a massive smile appeared on Amelia’s face, clearly loving the attention.
As Ami got to Leah, she fell forwards but Leah caught her before bringing her towards her chest, kissing Amelia’s head over and over again.
You crouched down next to them, taking Amelia from Leah as you too, kissed her head.
After a minute of you and Leah hugging Ami, you gestured for Alessia to join the group hug.
After just thirty seconds, you split away from the hug noticing that Amelia was fast asleep on your chest.
Her head was buried in your neck and her body limp against your chest.
The busy morning and the walking had obviously tired her out.
“I’m so proud of her.” Leah said, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.
“I am too. Oh, baby, are you crying?” You cooed at Leah, who nodded her head, tears falling down her cheeks.
“She’s not going to be our baby girl for much longer.” Leah managed to get out, her voice breaking.
“Le, she’ll always be our baby girl. Forever.” You told her, bringing your arm to reach Leah, bringing her into your side. “And hey, just think. We’ll get to do this all over again when we have another one.”
“I can’t wait.” Leah stated, a smile taking over her saddened face before placing a kiss on your lips.
“Another one? Awe, Ami gets to be a big sister.” You jumped as Alessia voice filled the room.
“Fuck Less, you scared me.” You turned to look at Alessia on the other side of you, a grin evident on her face as you gently punched her arm.
You’d been so focused on Leah that you’d forgotten Alessia was even in the room.
“I’ll go put Amelia down and then we’ll spend the rest of the day watching movies. Sounds like a plan?” You questioned, Leah immediately nodding but Alessia looked away, biting her lip. “Alessia, what did you do?” You knew her oh so well, knowing that she’d done something she shouldn’t have.
“I may have bragged to Tooney that I helped Ami take her first steps. But I forgot to check if I was private messaging her, so it turns out, that I accidentally messaged the group chat and now all the England girls are making their way here.” Alessia explained, Leah’s eyes widening as she checked her phone which confirmed that Alessia’s story was in fact true.
Messages with congratulations to Amelia filled Leah’s phone.
The rest of the afternoon was hectic. It was hectic but full of love.
All Leah’s teammates were family at this point and the fact some of them had travelled hours just to spend the afternoon with your daughter just showed how much they loved her.
Amelia was still asleep when most of them got there but as soon as the sound of crying was heard from the baby monitor, Leah jumped up to go get her.
Le walked back into the room, everyone gathering round to greet the mini Williamson.
You watched as Leah grinned at all her friends with Amelia.
Lia took Ami from Leah and Leah immediately walked over to you, sitting down next to you on the couch.
“So, you mentioned another one.” Leah began, not taking her eyes off her teammates, just imaging them all with Amelia and another baby.
“Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready. Of course, Ami’s still young but I’m ready when you are.” You whispered to Leah, your head resting on her shoulder.
“Two mini Williamsons? God help the world.” Tooney exclaimed, sneaking up behind you and obviously overhearing the conversation.
“I now know where Alessia gets it from.”
Requests are open :)
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panchatea · 2 days
Text
Aletheia & Etterath
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ChaCha Story Commissions.
Gahyeon x Male Reader ft. SuA
Tags: Romance, Lover’s Sex, Dreamcatcher, Gahyeon, SuA, Fluff, Melodrama
Wordcount: 11956
LAST PART OF THE SERIES
PART 1 - Aulasy & Kairoclerosis
PART 2 - Amour & Liaison
A/N: This is the last part of this series. Yey! I hope it's okay, I haven't written anything this technical before and I haven't written smut for more than a year. please do tell me how is it. It's not perfect but yeah.
Support me on KOFI
***
“Unnie, do you love me?” There’s just something that has always been both a blessing and a curse for me. People seem to think I am just a dumb pretty face who is unaware of anything around her—even my members always treat me like I'm a child.
However, the truth is, I know…
I observe and I always watch. 
I know.
I just don't talk.
“Gahyeonie, of course, I love you.” She smiled caringly as she continued to wipe that iniquitous body of hers that I’m so jealous of—slender, sexy, toned, and petite so unlike my curvy voluptuous body. Well, despite my jealousy of her body and other things, I’m glad to have her, she loves me so genuinely like her own sister. 
I love her too. 
But I know… 
She’s jealous of me too, and makes me so happy. 
“Do you love him too?” She smiled again, but this time it was almost too bittersweetly. Bora-unnie opened her mouth and she didn't speak for a moment.
“Of course, I love him.” I know you. That was your true feelings, wasn't it? 
“Every member loves him. He’s cute and he takes good care of you. There's no way we wouldn't love him.” That was true. She didn't lie, but it was far from her truth.
Nonetheless, I just tucked myself in the sheets and pretended to sleep. I just didn't know what to say to her or you so I held back. It wasn't before I felt her warm body beside me. It was Bora-unnie.
She's always been good to me. She always took good care of me. What's mine could have been hers, but she didn't take it. She gave you to me.
I always knew.
I saw it.
That spark in your eyes the first time you met her. Time must have slowed for you during those five seconds.
The way you listened intently to my stories, but you always had ears for things about her. You were always curious, but you never asked.
The way you glance over her reaction whenever they teased us of being lovers before. 
The way she had always greeted you first. And was always there watching over us two. 
You two always had an eye for each other. 
It always felt like she wanted you. 
And when you asked her about love.
When you said “I love you” to her. 
I knew. 
“Can’t fall asleep?” I heard Bora-unnie say. I thought it was for me, but then… 
“Noona, what will happen from now on?” You answered her from my left side. I only noticed your presence then, maybe from all the thinking. 
“I honestly don’t know,” Bora-unnie said as I felt her warm embrace engulf me, “she didn’t say it but I think she knows, but I’m too scared to ask.”
And I’m too scared to tell you two. Why didn’t I just wish the two of you to live happily? Why must you two hurt because of me?
“I’m happy and grateful for her tonight so I decided not to be greedy from now on. Tonight might happen again or not ever again but either way, I’m fine with it,” she continued as her hug tightened. 
I’m the one who should be sorry for ruining something beautiful between the two of you. I’m sorry for being selfish, but I’m sorry because I don’t regret it.
“Whether she might decide to keep this sexual thing going or decide to acknowledge my feelings for you and let me share your relationship with the three of us or just bury it, I will not complain and do something.” I already did acknowledge it Bora-unnie, but the moment you surrendered him to me, that was when you already lost.
“After all, I already gave you up to her ever since that day, and it’s a decision I don’t wanna take back and regret,” she said lastly. The pain was apparent in her tone. Her hands that hugged me were shaking. You sighed, you were quiet, you were just listening, and I wish you had expressed your thoughts more, but as usual, you were reserved.
“So that’s it?” You said with a tone of acceptance and defeat.
“That’s it,” She agreed before breaking her hug and turning her back to drift to sleep.
I opened my eyes, only to be met by your sleeping face. 
The face of the man that I love. 
The man who I wish loved me as much I love him, but sadly I’m not confident. 
What a player. It feels conflicting. I don’t plan on giving you up, but I’m not sure what these emotions are or what should I feel. You never cheated on me with her. You never did anything to compromise this relationship. You worked so hard to show your love for me, but whenever Bora-unnie is here, it always feels like you are chained to her, and she only pulls once, then you’ll leave me. I’m always at the mercy of her pity for me. Your words earlier still linger in my ear.  I trust you and your words.
“I loved you but I love Gahyeon.”
“Thank you, but please wait for me… at least until I can make a decision”
That's what I said but then again, 
I knew…
I would still choose you even if you don't.
And I wish,
You would choose me too.
The next day after that night was anticlimactic. It was awkward eating breakfast that morning. Everyone was quiet while eating the hotel room service food. It was a simple breakfast of toast, honey, butter, bacon, eggs, and coffee.
“This breakfast reminds me of Europe, we would eat this every day and I kinda missed the usual Korean breakfast after a while,” Gahyeon reminisced and you followed the conversation by asking about things about their tour while SuA stayed quiet, just listening to the two of you until breakfast was over. Gahyeon was weird today. She wasn’t doing that thing while she ate. 
SuA excused herself, saying that she had an appointment and left you two alone.
“I’ll go now, Kids. Take care you two.” SuA said before she left. SuA looked rather down, she wasn’t being her usual mature and mischievous self. It felt like she had a problem she couldn’t share.
“Worried?” She asked you.
It became even more awkward when you and Gahyeon were left alone inside the room. No one dared to talk about what happened last night. It felt like there was a wall between the two of you and Gahyeon had a lump inside her throat that she couldn’t get out. She tried to smile but they were bittersweet. You wanted to say something to help her but there was nothing, as you were painfully aware of the fact that you were the reason.
“About what?” You answered back but you knew it was about SuA leaving so abruptly. 
“I have no things to worry about.” You added as you smiled awkwardly.
Gahyeon stayed quiet after that and sat right beside you before locking hands with yours as she leaned onto your shoulders. She was clingy, refusing to let off your hand. It was comforting and reassuring, but it might be even a call for help from her. 
“Do you wanna stay like this all day?” You opted to stay with her.
 “No, I should visit my mom and dad. I haven’t seen them for so long,” She said and asked you to drive to her parent’s house. They haven’t seen her for so long you agreed.
The drive wasn’t any better. It was uncomfortably quiet with only the radio music filling the air. Thankfully, it played one Dreamcatcher’s song, and Gahyeon humming along with it made the atmosphere a little lighter. It was quite a long ride, but you survived.
Something was going on, and you were being kept in the dark. You knew it was about SuA. About what happened yesterday? It was not like you weren’t affected either. But you knew it was because of you, and you couldn’t do much.
“I love you,” you whispered before kissing her gently on the lips in front of her parents’ house. It was the only thing you thought you could do. A gentle kiss and the words she wanted to hear the most. 
Gahyeon reciprocated with a peck of her own on your lips. She inched close, another on your cheek. Before whispering her reply to your words.
“I love you too.” This time the side of her lips raised as she was almost too drawn by the black hole in front of her. Three words and a kiss were the reassurance she deserved. She turned around happily to their house.
The night before, Gahyeon wished for you to express yourself more. Say that you wanted her as much as she wanted you. Reject Bora flatly, but instead, what she got was only you wondering and a last defeated line.
But this time, the saying of those three words and the kiss reassured Gahyeon of something. Something that made her feel less of a pitied woman and more of a chosen love.
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Months have passed since then and it was like the hatchet was buried. The topic has never been talked about. Unsaid feelings and concerns were left unsaid, but you and Gahyeon continued to work on your relationship. It was like she didn’t have to bring it up, as you knew ever since that moment in front of her parent’s house—it was a testament to your feelings—it was all that was needed.
Today, there she was sitting on her chair. With that black dress’ fitting her, she would make every model in this world thankful that Gahyeon became an idol—it hugged her body tightly, proudly highlighting her gorgeous figure. Not just that, the French tips, the designer ring you gifted her, a scrunchy just in case, pink hair, and red lips, complete a date night look.
Gahyeon was a goddess.
Gahyeon no matter what she was wearing or even if she was wearing nothing at all, she would be the most beautiful girl in this world to you and many people. Today though, she was dressed extra special, just for you, and with that, you were thankful for being the one chosen by this goddess.
Gahyeon’s attention was all poured into the menu in front of her. She giggled as she looked at each page excitedly. Why wouldn’t she be excited? The meal was treated by you, and it was your second anniversary. You just stared at her, reminiscing all of the things that you two had gone through for the past year. From a rather peculiar deal after a one-night stand, a night for three naked bodies with the same girl you had a one-night stand with, and through all of that confusion and pain you had caused the girl in front of you, here you were celebrating this festive day.
“Don’t look at me like that, I’m gonna melt,” she teased as she closed the menu and gestured for the waiter to take her orders before looking back at you. Gahyeon smiled naughtily as if she had concocted something mischievous inside her head. 
She inched closer until there was only a few centimeters between you and her lips which made you instinctively close your eyes.
For a kiss, but you just heard giggling before you—
“Ahh! What was that?” you asked as you opened your eyes only to find the love of your life back at her seat with the same smirk she had earlier. You just caressed your forehead, trying to ease the pain of her attack.
“You looked too cute, I had to tease you.” Her laughs echoed into your ears—a symphony you would never get tired of. Sadly, that soon came to a halt as the waiter came to take the food order. Of course, the order was hers to decide alone, you had given her the privilege to do so on this special occasion.
She opted for a specialty dish, a whole pizza, a side of roasted potatoes, an assorted seafood dish, and pints of beer to keep the cold night warm.
“Yah, that’s too much, we can’t possibly finish all of that,” You said to her to which she replied with a pout, “Aish, you’re not planning on making me finish all of that?”
“Of course! It’s the man of the relationship's job to finish all the food his woman ordered.” Gahyeon pointed out before handing the menu to the waiter. There she goes, a typical girlfriend moves to use gender roles to get what they want.
The food didn’t take too long to arrive. And it also didn’t take any for you two to enjoy the feast in front of you.
“Here try this,” Gahyeon offered you a spoonful of the specialty dish she ordered which you gladly accepted shyly before she herself tried it. Whether she was sweet or she wanted to see how it tasted first, her mixed expression said it was both. 
“How was it?” She asked and you just nodded. Gahyeon never was the kind to hide her affection. She didn't even try to hide the relationship from the media. For a while it became a headache for her management, but with time and effort, it all became fine. Now it is an open fact that Gahyeon from Dreamcatcher is dating a non-showbiz man. 
“It’s delicious!” Gahyeon blissfully exclaimed after she took a bite. You smiled unknowingly while watching her—it looked like it was worth it to book this restaurant months earlier for this date. She was happy—the way she hummed as she ate was a testament to this. 
“Don’t stuff yourself too much or you’ll end up complaining to me later that you gained weight,” you teased her as you too stuffed yourself with the delicious food. She glared at you—never mention gaining weight with someone who controls theirs for their job. An idol needs to always stay in shape after all—their almost impossible-like figures. 
“I’m sorry.”
Time passed like that. You two passed bicker on to each other. Talking about all the mundane things. Just there, enjoying the company of each other.
The night has been perfect so far. The cold breeze was countered by the alcohol, delicious food alongside great conservation, and the reincarnation of beauty and kindness, your date Gahyeon has been nothing but lovely(also a teasing master), there was no reason to be unhappy. 
“I said to stop staring at me like that.” She looked at you sourly, pretending to be annoyed at you.
“I wasn’t, I wasn’t looking at you!” you retorted at her. “I was looking at that last piece of pizza.”
You took it, bit on it, and she looked like hell rose and her soul left her body.
“But, I was gonna take that last piece,” she dejectedly said as she pouted at you.
“Yah! You, we’re breaking up! You stole my pizza.” Gahyeon pointed her fork at you, threatening you with it.
“Come on now, fox, I’m sorry. Here take the piece.” You placed the pizza on her, but she just glared at you.
“But, you already took a bite!” She moved the piece back to your plate but you refused and placed it again on her plate.
“No! This is betrayal! Did you know wars started because of pizza!” Whelp, that was clearly an overreaction. Or maybe not, you made a mental note to search later which historical event she might be referring to.
For the second time, she returned the pizza. And by then you had already noticed other guests from the tables near you looking. Not that it was embarrassing you, but being a cause of distraction to other people was bad.
“Babe, I’m really sorry,” You apologized sincerely. “Look, we can order another pizza if you still want them. We can also take them as a takeout for later.”
 “The next time, I promise I’ll ask you, if you want the food before I eat it, okay?” You held out your pinky, and she raised just her eyebrow and crossed her arms as you wiggled the finger in front of her.
“Hmm, k. You better order the same one!” Gahyeon hooked her finger onto yours and stood up. It all happened too fast and before you even knew it, her lips connected to yours, not caring if it was a public display of affection or if she could be photographed by a random fan. 
You two had done it more than times you could ever count, but it was still as magical—her soft supple lips landing on yours, staining it with her red lipstick.
“Be ready, I think you’ll be on Dispatch tomorrow,” Gahyeon smirked as she disconnected her finger from yours and snatched the piece of pizza on your plate before she sat again and ate it. You will definitely be on Dispatch tomorrow after that,  but this time, it won’t be a controversy but it is to report about Gahyeon’s successful relationship.
As for you, you shyly sat there—red as an apple after that scene straight out of a KDrama. 
You shyly gestured for the waiter.
“Can we get the check and then a pizza for takeout,” you said to the waiter as Gahyeon continued to enjoy herself, taking pictures as she ate her food. You took out your phone to capture some photos.
It was such a mundane thing, but it was so beautiful. Her just being there, eating the food you treated her comfortably without any care in the world.
The way she smiles.
The way she munches her food.
It was love when even the most boring things became the most interesting.
There was no worry in this world with you and her in it. It was proving how fruitful your efforts were in this relationship.
You love her and that is all that matters. You wouldn't trade her for anything or anyone. That was what you decided ever since that day.
Soon the waiter came with a box of pizza and the check for the food. You paid for everything and got ready to leave. The night was still young, there were so many things to do, and there was only so much you could do.
Not much time after, Gahyeon found herself walking alongside the beach, and you followed her from behind. The air was cold to feel,  the song of the ocean resonated to the ear, her footsteps left prints on the sand beneath, and her dress flew and formed waves like the ocean’s. 
It was a sight to behold. 
There was just a certain kind of beauty as the moon just shone on her like it was a spotlight, her porcelain skin glowed as if it was reflecting the moon like the water does. The focus was all just for her and everything, even the breathtaking view just became a backdrop to her beauty. It was a picturesque sight that would forever be imprinted on one’s brain.
However, it wasn’t anything special. Rather it was just Gahyeon and your eyes. The eyes that allowed you to see her for who she was. It wasn’t because of her beauty, or her personality, it was Gahyeon as a whole. 
What people don’t really understand was that attraction and love are two different things.
Seeing someone and wanting them is attraction.
Seeing someone and wishing to be with them is love.
Of course, attraction is normal among lovers, but there is a fine line between lust, infatuation, and love. To which is what is underneath all that attraction. The normality and comfort of just being in her presence. Gahyeon isn’t the goddess or the idol of everyone. The difference between your love and the love of her fans is that you don’t look up in the sky for her—seeing her in glasses of such absurdity and obscurity.
Gahyeon is there.
She’s always been there up ahead. She’s not up there on a pedestal.
She’s there with you.
And that’s what you call Love.
And that’s when you truly see. It was not the glow of her skin under the moonlight, or the way her pink hair and black dress swayed to the blow of the sea breeze, or the way that sight was like a masterpiece waiting to be captured and kept in an art museum.
It was again only Gahyeon. Gahyeon who was just walking alongside the beach. Gahyeon, who was stuffed with all of the food she ate. Gahyeon, who probably was feeling cold, because one, she wore sleeveless, two she didn’t bring any jacket even though you told her to do so earlier, and three, because it was simply cold during that night.
Gahyeon makes you worry. Gahyeon makes you feel unease. Gahyeon makes you hurt. Gahyeon makes you wanna care. Gahyeon makes you feel alive. Gahyeon makes you cry. Gahyeon makes you laugh.
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Gahyeon is Gahyeon.
She took out her phone, pointed it onto the horizon, and soon you felt a vibration inside your pocket.
“The moon looks so beautiful isn't it?” Her message said alongside the picture of the horizon as if you weren't there with her. You smiled as you typed the reply.
“Come on, why are you acting like I’m not even here,” you said as you approached her and nudged her. She giggled and looked at your face for a second before she went back to staring at the horizon. You dropped the pizza that you ordered as takeout at the sand, took off your jacket, and shielded Gahyeon from having a cold later tonight.
“I knew you’d do that. That’s why I didn't bring a jacket. It is a boyfriend thing to do,” she commented and you just giggled in response. 
“The moon looks so blue.” There it was up above the skies, shining alone brightly. It must have been lonely. There were no stars above and even if there were, no matter how it seemed like they were close to each other, they were truly drifting away from each other. It was scary. 
She held your hand. Tightly as if she was scared you would just disappear through thin air. It was sweaty and cold, but she didn't mind. 
“I prefer the red sunset.”
Yes, that red sunset back when we were just teenagers without any care in the world,  chasing our dreams, and then and there I knew I only had one dream. 
And it was to be with you. 
It was funny because I was making fun of how frail you were, and how you wouldn’t be able to run a mile. You wouldn’t be able to reach the beach at the end of the town. Your house was on the other end of the town after all. 
But you did, and the first thing you did was send me a photo of that beautiful red sunset.
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t was so beautiful. 
It made me happy. 
You were amazing and it was beautiful. 
I could imagine how you were frowning when I replied and said how pretty it was.
I mean, you sent it to me to show how amazing you were right? 
It made me so happy so I took my bike and pedaled all the way to you. 
You were so funny. I caught you complaining.
“Not that! I want her to know how awesome it is that I ran here!” You exclaimed.
“Oh, you didn’t want to show me the sunset?” You didn’t even notice that I was behind you.
“That’s right… not the sunset…” That was when you realized, and looked back before jumping out of shock.
“Gah, what are you doing here?” You asked me.
“Talking to you last time made me want to see the sunset.” That is what I answered, but the truth is…
I wanted to see you. I even brought you a bottle of water. You drank as we sat on the sand.
“I’m so happy,”—I expressed— “you ran all the way here to send me a picture of that beautiful sunset.”
“It’s not like that…” you denied but you were blushing. You continued mumbling, trying to come up with an excuse. You were so cute, you didn’t know what to do and you couldn’t even understand what you were feeling.
I called out your name. You were so rattled.
“It’s so red, isn’t it?”
“Red? Am I blushing?”
But I just said…
“It’s a beautiful red sunset. So pretty…”
“The sunset? It sure is. It’s red, isn’t it.”
“Well, it’s not as red as you.” I couldn’t really help but tease you. Your reactions were so cute.
But really…  I was so glad.
I could watch that beautiful sunset with you.
Those were the days.
That was also the day, I realized… It wasn’t a crush.
I love you.
“Red sunset?” Your question brought back Gahyeon from her trance.
“Yes, I wanna see it again,” Gahyeon said as she continued to watch to the horizon while you watched her.
“Is this that beautiful?” You asked her.
“Yes, it was so beautiful,” Gahyeon answered. She turned to look at you and locked eyes.
“Yes, beautiful.” She giggled.
“Take me to the beach again soon,” Gahyeon asked full of expectations.
“Why?” You asked but you already made a mental note to plan another beach trip. Maybe this time back in yours and Gahyeon’s hometown. You remember visiting alone the last time you drove her to see her parents, and it was beautiful. Maybe you two could eat some crabs and other seafood.
Gahyeon loves seafood a lot after all.
“I wanna see a nice red sunset again. Also, I really want to catch some crabs.” Gahyeon said and rubbed her stomach. Is she a mind reader? Or was she just thinking about using her stomach? Either way, it made you laugh a little. You expected her to say something about food.
“Then, we should go earlier than today so that we catch some crabs while we wait for the sun to set.” It’s been decided. You don’t when, but you knew it was gonna happen, maybe when Gahyeon’s schedule loosened up again.
“I wonder how many I can catch.” She said after you ruffled her pink hair. Gahyeon retaliated, trying hard for you not to ruin her hair that she had so much time to perfect just for your anniversary date. When she finally was able to stop you, she glared at you and pouted cutely.
“You won’t be able to and you’ll make me catch them instead.” You just laughed as you tried to fix her again. You know her too much. Gahyeon would say that it’s a boyfriend thing to do to catch crabs for her girlfriend and cook them—she would leverage her girlfriend card again.
“That’s rude, I can do it too.” She slapped your hand and fixed her hair herself. Of course, her slap didn’t use too much force. Gahyeon is sulky girlfriend but she doesn’t want to cause you harm.
“I didn’t say, you can’t. I’m saying you’ll be too scared to do so.” She threw punches. Again they were not hurtful, but she was throwing a real tantrum and if you don’t calm her, she will sulk for the rest of the date.
“Come, sit here.” You held her hand and pulled her to sit on the sand near where you put down the takeout food from earlier.
“Open the pizza. I’m hungry.” She ordered to which to gladly followed. As soon as the box revealed the food, her eyes widened. Gahyeon, who was almost drooling turned her mood upside down because of the luscious pizza in front of her. She couldn’t restrain herself, as she excitedly hummed before she went for a piece and ate it.
“You’ll get fat,” You commented and she nudged you while her mouth was still stuffed.
“You’ll exercise with me, don’t worry,” Gahyeon retorted and you just laughed as you too took a piece.
The box of pizza was emptied as the night went on. Conservation under the moon went by faster than normal and that’s okay. As long as it was with her, time spent was time spent well. 
Soon she decided that the cold ocean breeze was not doing it for her anymore and opted you two to leave the beach. Hand-in-hand you two went back to your accommodation for the night—a hotel near the beach and the restaurant.
The hotel room was nice. It wasn’t anything special like what most fans would thought idols were always staying in. It was a small suite with a single bed, kitchen, bath, and a balcony that overlooks the ocean. It was nice and not over the top. Gahyeon loved it. As soon as she entered the room, flopped and bounced on the bed, playing as if she still had so much energy to burn.
“Come on, our anniversary night is still not over!” Gahyeon had her arms open wide, tempting you to jump on her arms. It wasn’t an offer anyone could refuse. A woman as cute and attractive as she flopped her arms open wide on top of a fortress of pillows and mattress, there was no way you would pass on that.
It was a long night that you wish wouldn’t end.
You didn’t waste any more time to accept her offer as soon you were engulfed by her arms. You were on top of her, pressing onto her as she caressed the back of your head. Gahyeon smelled nice. Gahyeon always smells nice. Her smell made you feel relaxed, and her hug was comfortable. She gently ghosted her hand back and forth of your hair as she hummed your favorite song.
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It felt like a baby being held and hummed to sleep. It felt like heaven. It felt like home. It felt like the right place. And that place was inside her nestling hug. Gahyeon cuddled you, and you nestled back. Her voice was angelic. It was a known fact, but hearing her voice almost whispering the melodies of love, was the greatest fan service only available to you.
Your phone vibrated a few times, but you ignored it as you focused only on her and her alone. Relish the moment while it lasts. Take advantage of each second before it passes. For God JiU’s sake, it was your anniversary and nothing is more important than Gahyeon and you—it was probably just some work problem needing of solution anyway, they could at least handle it for one night.
Before you even knew it, Gahyeon finished her song.
“Thank you for putting up with me.” She whispered.
“Why wouldn’t I? I’m your boyfriend.” You answered back.
“Do you lo—”
“I love you,” you cut her before she could the question to allow her to hear the words. However, she didn’t do so after all.
“I love you too,” Gahyeon whispered before she pushed you off her and got off the bed with a mischievous smile.
“You’ll suffocate and squish me if we stay this way for long,”—Gahyeon pointed at you—“Special cuddling fanservice session is finished.”
This time you were the one to pout at her.
“No fair, I wanna cuddle more,” You complained.
“Take care of that constant vibration on your phone first while I take quick shower.” Gahyeon winked, “We’ll do something special when you come back.”
In the blink of an eye, Gahyeon disappears to the bathroom after insinuating something naughty for later. You were left in a daze for a few seconds, imagining what she meant by her words. You were only able to break the trance after a vibration.
You finally opened your phone only to be shocked by what was on the screen which made your smile turned upside down.
You quickly went down to the hotel lobby, where the message on your phone led you to find her.
“I just came back from a long hiatus and you’ll greet me with that face?” She pointed out your conflicted expression.
“Noona… why are you here?” She approached for a hug, but you were quick to step back and draw a line between the two of you.
It was SuA who you didn’t hear so much after months of cutting the connection from all of you—or at least from you. You were reluctant to talk to her.
“Why are you giving me the cold shoulders?” SuA teased as she once again approached step-by-step and you backed down for each step she took.
“Noona, stop this… what are you doing.” But she didn’t listen and forcefully tried to take your hand. Of course, you had more strength than her but being forceful to someone you cared about was hard.
“I’m taking you with me,” SuA declared as she tried to pull you, but you just didn’t let her as she pleased.
“Noona, I’m not going with you. Where? Where were you even? Where are you trying to take me?!” You lashed out at her. Thankfully, no one was around to see the scene. The older one just stared at you annoyed that you didn’t listen to her.
That standoff took a few seconds before you turned your back to walk away. You were finished with her. You were not doing this. Atleast, not on your anniversary night. You were not going to get swayed by her.
“Didn’t you say that you love me?”—her words stopped your steps—“Prove it to me now, ran away with me.” 
Turn back. Look at her. Hear her cries.
“I love you.” Beads of tears slowly fell down her gorgeous face.
“Please, say it. 
I wanna hear it again. 
Say that you love me. 
Choose me.” 
It was painful, watching her cry fully knowing that you were the reason.
“I love Gahyeon.” Three words. One sentence. One name that wasn’t her.
It was short but meaningful. You didn’t regret. You were straight. You didn’t apologize for either hurting her or not choosing her. You said it. And that broke SuA.
“I shouldn’t have let you go.” Those were the words that escaped SuA's mouth as she realized it was too late and where it all went wrong for her—where she lost. You helped her. She looked so frail. What did she even do all this time?
“Noona…” SuA wiped her tears and quickly composed herself. 
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” SuA faked a smile and you returned it to her with a caring one.
“I’ll be off your back, don’t worry,” SuA said as she tried to walk away. You stopped her. You held her hand, but just like what you did earlier.
“Where are you going?” You asked her worriedly.
“Don’t worry, I already told Minji-yah that I’ll be coming back. I ain’t going nowhere,” She explained as she walked away.
“Let’s catch up soon.” 
She looked back. 
She smiled bittersweetly. 
“Tell me, when did you realize that you love her?” Those were her last words before she walked away and left you speechless. However, maybe it wasn’t really what she wanted to ask, but rather the words were…
“When did you realize you didn’t really love me?”
It didn’t take long before SuA was no longer in sight. And her words are still stuck in your head. When? When did you really realize it? 
Take out your phone. Stare at the picture of the woman on your wallpaper, Gahyeon. 
When did I realize I love you?
That’s a really funny question. 
But really. 
It was maybe sometime after we officially started dating. 
Honestly, I wasn’t sure yet. I knew I loved Bora-unnie or so I thought I loved her. I wasn’t sure. I was confused at that time. But I did my best to make you happy. 
To try to make it with you. 
I said I love you. We kissed already. We even had sex already at that time. I’m cruel aren’t I? I’ll probably go to hell for being a liar. 
I knew I didn't love you yet. I felt disgusted with myself. You were like a sister to me after all. And I was lying and taking advantage of your feelings for me. 
But… 
Love is a Lie. 
I said and I knew it was a lie. 
But I wished, for one day… I’ll be able to truly tell you without any lies. To be able to kiss you out of love. To be able to be one with you. To want you as much as you wanted me. 
To love you more than you love me. 
One day… 
It happened. 
It wasn’t like I expected it to be. 
It was a normal day. It wasn’t anything special. 
I just woke up and that was when I realized… 
I love you, Gahyeon. 
When I saw your face the moment I opened my eyes. You were far from your beautiful self in front of the camera. You were ugly. Your hair was like a broom. You were snoring. Your breath stinks. You were eating your hair and you had dried drool on the sides of your lips. 
You were ugly, Gahyeon. 
It made me laugh. Although, I wasn’t any better. I was just fortunate enough to wake up earlier than you. I had time to fix myself before I got called ugly by you. 
But I didn't…
I went for the kiss on your drool-painted lips. Mine wasn’t any different. 
But this time it was different. 
I kissed you because I love you. 
I love you.
Not anyone else.
How could I be so blind when you were here all along?
I kissed you again and it felt so right.
But I accidentally woke you up.
You were smiling. That was the brightest smile I've ever seen in my life. You giggled as the sun funneling through the window illuminated you.
“Your breath stinks,” you teased.
“Please, brush your teeth then come back and kiss me,” you added.
It was funny. Yours stinks too! I didn't mind it at all, and I bet you didn't mind mine too.
That morning was a drop of dew. And I just watched you with love. The way you walked around with your disheveled hair and just my shirt on. You didn't care at all. Why would you? It's just me, the man you love.
You were so lazy that I had to brush your teeth and tie up your hair. If only your fans could see you, I wonder how they would react?
You're a slowpoke, Gahyeon. I couldn't blame you though, with a schedule as busy as yours. I would use any free time to laze around.
“When will breakfast be ready?!” You exclaimed from the bathroom while I was in the kitchen. You always cared about food.
“In a few minutes, take your time with your routine!” You were sleepy and lazy but you were always so diligent. You never skip on anything. You always took care of yourself. Although, most of the time, I still had to take care of you.
Maybe, that's my job.
“Gah! Breakfast is ready!”  When breakfast was finally ready, you sprinted to the dining table. You were suddenly but then became sheepish. You took most bites with your eyes closed.
From then I took a mental note to prepare something that would help you sleep better every night before bed.
You took each bite excitedly but still sheepishly. You hummed as you ate. You always hum when you eat. It has always been an indicator that you were eating something delicious. 
“This sucks. Do you want to take cooking lessons?” That was what you right after when you literally handed your plate for a second serving. 
I gladly gave it to you. Do you remember? 
That morning was so bright, comfortable, and was fleeting. Before I knew it, you were going to leave for practice and I was going to work. 
However, I wasn’t sad because we were parting for the day, rather, I was already expecting the bliss that I would have when I finally met in the night. 
It was such a peculiar thing, but I knew right then and there when I saw your back passing through my apartment door… 
I love you. 
“I should go back to Gahyeon,” You muttered to yourself as you made your way back to your hotel room, but unbeknownst to you, you would find an empty room. You wondered where she was. Did she meet SuA? Or did she somewhere else?
You were worried. You tried to text her and also tried to ask the hotel staff if they saw a pink-haired girl roaming. You might have taken too long because of SuA and she went out to look for you.
That was when you received a reply from Gahyeon.
“Wait for me.” That was what her text message said.
Where were you Gahyeon?
“Unnie,” Gahyeon called who was waiting at the other end of the hallway for SuA. The older stopped and looked at the younger. Did she he—
“I saw and heard everything.” For the first Gahyeon admitted that she was there or that she was listening. She always kept to herself and was always patient whenever something like this happened, but tonight Gahyeon decided differently. 
“Not gonna welcome your unnie back? I just came back from a long hiatus,” SuA commented as they faced each other. Two women, who love the same men, but while the other succeeds, the other fails.
“Well, I would be happy to welcome you with a hug and a kiss but you just tried to steal my boyfriend,” Gahyeon answered with an annoyed tone.
“I didn’t try to steal him,” SuA corrected as she approached Gahyeon step-by-step. The younger stepped backward every time the older closed in up until she couldn’t, hitting the wall behind her. SuA was so closed, uncomfortably closed for Gahyeon, but she didn’t backed down.
“He’s mine to begin with,”—No one dared to break eye contact—“He loves m—”
“He loved you, Bora,” Gahyeon cut. She said so sternly and clearly, even opting not to use any honorifics. SuA bit her lip in response to what Gahyeon said. She knew deep down it was true. She just couldn’t accept it. 
“He loved you,”—Gahyeon reiterated before SuA could even retort—“What? Cat’s got your tongue? It’s true is it not?”
Gahyeon had put SuA in her place or rather, she had put her back in her place. It was harsh, but SuA was reckless. She came out of nowhere and tried to hijack their anniversary night. It was almost as if SuA went there and just hoped for the best and trusted the little hope she had. Gahyeon, on the other hand, didn’t think twice to defend her place.
“I shouldn’t have pitied y—” SuA said before biting her lip as she instantly regretted what she had said, but it was too late. Gahyeon after hearing what SuA said, had a hammer punched in her stomach. She wasn’t expecting SuA to at least not say those words. Or at least for SuA not to feel that way. Gahyeon knew her and you happened partly because SuA felt bad about her, but for it to be said in her face…
Something inside of them broke, and a bottomless pit sunk inside of their hearts.
“I don’t know you anymore.” Gahyeon pushed her, and SuA fell to the ground. She didn’t mean to push her down to the ground, just enough to put distance between the two of them. Her heart ached. Gahyeon was worried as she looked down on her as the older looked away in shame.
“Please don’t call me or him. I don’t care about our jobs. Please, I’ll find a way. Just leave.” Gahyeon walked away and SuA could only watch her as tears once again flowed out of her eyes. She knew she had not only lost you, but now she lost Gahyeon. 
Gahyeon wasn’t any better, she cried and wept as she took heavy steps fully knowing she had just cut off one of the most important people in her life. They both didn’t want for things to end up like this, but emotions cascaded like a waterfall and there was no way of stopping this. There was no way it could have ended with all parties happy—it was simply impossible.
Love takes.
Love is painful.
Love comes with a price.
Gahyeon clearly remembered. She didn’t want things to end up this way. She tried. A scenario where no one was hurt, but in the end… all of you ended up hurting. It was foolish to hope. Gahyeon wiped her tears and found somewhere to sit. She closed her eyes.
“Gahyeonie, wake up.” I opened my eyes and my eyes met with daggers of light before I saw her—the face of the person I was most jealous of. SuA, who was asleep beside me.  SuA who made love with me and my boyfriend.
“Swa, good morning,” I greeted, still half-asleep.
“Good morning, Baby.” She caressed my face. Her eyes… They looked so sad. She looked like she was in pain, but she smiled.
“What's wrong, Unnie? I asked worriedly. Although, once again I knew… I knew but I couldn't do anything. Or I wouldn't do anything. I would die if I were to give back what she gave me.
‘Gahyeonie, do you love him?” SuA said, almost choking on her words.
“Yes, I love him so much. I have loved him for so long.” Those were my words. Those were also the words that drove you like this.
I'm sorry for being selfish.
“Unnie, do you love him?” I asked her once again. The same question from the night before.
“I do,” She confessed, and tears started to flow down her cheeks, staining her pretty face. She confessed… it came straight from her mouth. Her true feelings.
“But I love you more.” Those words… I didn't even know how to react. It was so sincere.
I wiped her tears, but I was crying too. Everything was a mess, and honestly, I was surprised how you slept through all of it.
When you woke up, it was as if nothing happened. We had a pleasant breakfast but the atmosphere was so awkward.
But I didn't expect it. That was the last I would see SuA for a long time. She just left. If I knew I would have hugged her. But I only found out later on from JiU-unnie that she left the country and went on a sudden hiatus.
If I knew…
I should have known at that moment.
It was goodbye.
That is until now.
Gahyeon opened her eyes. She had calmed down. She stopped crying. She knew she had to return to your suite. You were waiting for her, but she knew you would notice her puffy eyes.
That she cried a lot.
“So much for an anniversary night,” Gahyeon muttered as she stood up to head to a comfort room before going back to the suite where you were waiting.
Soon, Gahyeon stood in front of the door. Nervous about how she would explain what happened or how to open up about the topic or how to even talk about it. She wasn't ready, but she knew you would ask.
“Please, don’t ask.” She grabbed the doorknob and turned it. As the door swung, she found you, and couldn’t help but smile as she found you pacing back and forth, worried about her. 
“Gahyeon!” You exclaimed. You saw her and ran up to her—finally relieved that Gahyeon had come back. 
Before she could even react, she was engulfed by your arms in a bear hug. Her arms enveloped back as yours tightened. Hearts were booming. You could feel it, she could feel it, every fast-paced beat booming as your hearts connected.
Gahyeon had let go. She just let it happen. She didn’t speak, she just nestled into the comfort and protection of your hug. It was her home. It was warm yet something cold on your chest countered it. It was your shirt wetted by the diamonds dripping down her beautiful face. You caressed her back, trying to lull the crying girl as Gahyeon buried her face against your chest.
“It’s okay.” Gahyeon clenched her teeth and fists, took a handful of the backside of your shirt, and bit on the fabric her mouth was able to reach. She just kept crying without uttering a word. She just released what she was holding back inside of her. 
It broke your heart seeing her like this. You couldn’t do anything but caress her back and hope that it was enough to ease her pain. Several minutes passed and she wasn’t calming down. You kissed her forehead and she looked up to you.
“Do you love me?” Gahyeon asked, her eyes pleading for reassurance as they continuously stained her face with tears. You kissed her once again, but this time it wasn’t your lips and her forehead, it was her lips and yours colliding softly for a peck. She smiled brightly. You haven’t even said the words she wanted to hear, but her eyes already lit up as if she knew it was coming.
“I love you.” The words were finally uttered and it was all that was needed for Ghayeon to wrap her arms around your neck. Pull in. Let go. Hug it. Before you even knew it, your lips collided with hers once again. Close your eyes. She captured your lips and pulled you into a longing hungry kiss. Knots were tied, and two soft marshmallow muscles clashed, moving with the rhythm of her hunger.
She was a blackhole longing for love. It was scary how a woman in pain like her craved love like this. It wasn’t a sweep inside your mouth as she playfully tickled the underside of your tongue while exploring the depths only she could reach.
Gahyeon pulled out, caught her breath, and chased once again as she lured you. She started sucking on your tongue, and you gladly let her without any resistance. She pulled and sucked. She circled her tongue around yours.
Seconds passed by and the endless exchange between lips didn’t end. Seconds became minutes, and tears already stopped flowing, but the fervent kiss didn’t end there. It started with a peck and it ended up in a torrid kiss. Eyes closed and lips glued to each other. Her arms traveled around your neck while yours gently caressed her hair.
She pulled out and a string of saliva bridged the two of you. Her eyes still brimming with hunger as yours locked with her lovingly. She wanted more and you would gladly give anything for her. 
“Do you love me?” Gahyeon asked once again. This time you were the one to capture her lips and Gahyeon couldn’t help but smile while her lips were still connected to yours. Glide from her back to her lower hips as Gahyeon cupped your cheeks as she continued devouring you.
In one swoop motion, you lifted her off the ground, resulting in a momentary disconnection between the two of you. That didn’t matter though as she was quick to clash lips once again while you tried to excruciatingly navigate around the suite to get into the bedroom almost blindly. 
You had hit several corners. Topped down appliances and broke a few glasses before you found a counter to sit Gahyeon on. It wasn't the destination, but you soon would get there but for now.
She was laughing and smiling, you were in a crazy haze. You pulled back. Eyes locked as the playful hands grabbed onto the ends of her black dress. You didn't waste any moment as her porcelain skin revealed itself as you peeled that dress off her—from the tips of her toes, her luscious legs, toned stomach, and torso. A momentary break of eye contact as the garment blocked your sight of her.
Look up and down. Magnificence exuded as inch and every corner of her felt it was sculpted by a higher being itself. Her porcelain skin felt like clouds on your palm, and the way her body subtlety reacted… each touch shivers, each touch was electrifying.
Gahyeon wasn't one to just be the one almost on her birthday with only her matching black lingerie. She pulled you by the hand, grabbed your shirt, and didn't waste any moment to remove it. She ogled at you—it was a sight for her—it was the prize that was for hers alone.
“You’re mine,” Gahyeon said, asserting her ownership over you as she bit her lips, almost drolling while eyeing you. She didn't waste any more time as she pulled even closer for another make-out session—this time more athirst. Each feathery touch made her more hungry, intoxicated, and addicted. Kisses were her morphine—each one made her forget the pain and put her on a high.
“I’m yours.” You broke the kiss. You traveled from her lips to her left ear as you engulfed her for a hug. She wrapped her leg around your hips. The distance was small. It didn’t allow any wild movement, but that was okay, being able to see her gorgeous face up close was more than enough. This time she was smiling. You had only seen it through your peripheral vision, but her lips, her eyes, they both were happy.
“Shut up, carry me to the bed, and fuck me,” Gahyeon ordered. Giggles left your mouth as you gently carried her off the countertop table. She hugged you and nestled on your shoulders. She rested and relished once again taking advantage of the comfort of your warmth.
Soon you laid her down on the bed. While you caught your breath, you took a moment to once again look at the art in front of you. She wasn’t crying. Gahyeon was happy. She was anticipating. She was like a kid waiting for her request to be granted. You could stare at her all day, but her order, you needed it as much as she did.
You smirked at her as you unbuckled your pants and stripped down to your birthday suit. She smirked back and taunted you with her body. She didn’t have any intention to remove her lingerie. She wanted you to do it. Although fucking her with that sexy lingerie still on was still also an option, you wanted her to be as bare as you were—completely naked and vulnerable.
“Why are you so lazy?” You grabbed the hem of her black thong and tried to peel it off her. It was stubborn, and her ass held on to it. You lifted that peach ass of hers that she spent so much time in the gym to achieve for a moment just to get it off, began to slowly remove it off her lips, making its way down her smooth and slender porcelain legs, and revealed a treasure, her smooth, glistening pink lips.
You wanted a taste. You wanted to tease her. So you dove right into the treat in front of you. You started with kisses up and down her inner thighs, gaining soft moans while your lips repeatedly contacted her warm skin. You planted wet kisses on her thighs again, but this time dangerously near her wet folds.
“Just do it already.” Gahyeon was already squirming. She wanted it, and a lick down her thighs, staining her pristine thighs with long licks garnered even more moans. You giggled mischievously while she was getting more and more impatient, but before she could complain once again, the first lick came in, tracing her pink slit—one long sweet taste of her wet folds. 
Teasing her might have backfired as she grabbed onto your head, and pushed you in her legs forcibly, forcing you to continue eating her. You didn’t have any choice, buried in her crotch, you accepted your fate, and her delicious pussy. Explore every corner. Reach the deepest depths. You dove in to find out how deep your tongue could reach inside her. You basked and inhaled the aroma of her pussy. You didn’t let any of her juices pass your mouth. And Gahyeon took it all in, receiving all of it, moaning and expressing how pleasurable it was all.
You let your hot breath blow against her crotch, and she whined in response. Quickly, you went in with an up-and-down motion deep inside using your tongue. She cussed, she moaned, and she quivered as you continued eating her out.
“More!” She exclaimed as if that was the cue, you put pressure on her clit. You swirled around it, gaining louder and more high-pitched moans as you ran circular patterns on it. Push and swirl. You gently pushed it with your tongue, then took it in your mouth and sucked on her clit.
Her legs squished, and her nails dug in deeper and deeper as every second passed by. She pushed you deeper in hopes that your tongue would reach deeper inside her slits. It was getting harder to breathe as minutes went by. Your head was going numb from the pain from her nails digging. Her wet pussy almost drowned you. Buried against her crotch, all you could do was go crazy, trying to taste and service her as much as you can, sucking her wet and delicious pussy as you turned Gahyeon into a squirming mess.
The only option was to tap out. You forcibly disengaged, simultaneously edging her. It wasn’t time for her to reach her climax, and it wasn’t time yet for a death by thighs head locking you. You licked your lips and caught your breath. You smirked fully knowing what you did as you tenderly caressed her thighs while she pouted.
“What are you looking at?” You teasingly snarked at her, and she glared at you before you got on top of her. You weren’t one to keep her waiting when you just edged her. And just like any other time before and now, you lined the tip of your cock up against the opening of her entrance and captured her lips for a kiss as you pushed—slowly and caringly, entering her inch by inch smoothly inside of her already soaking wet quim.
Gahyeon hugged every bit of your cock. She was perfectly wet and perfectly tight every time, and it was always cute how she was also perfectly cute, innocent, and sexy at the same time. Sex with her had always been a mix of comfort and excitement. With Gahyeon you wouldn’t call it sex, it was the ever-cliched lovemaking.
You started fucking her, slowly, sensually, and carefully. It was different from how you teased her and edged. You pressed bodies, allowing each other to relish the warmth of each other. You let her feel you gravitating against her. Gahyeon had your weight on top of her and she had always loved it. It felt like the sun, warm on the skin, but it didn't burn. Sweaty and almost smelly but it felt cold and fresh to be so close to her. Again and again, like clockwork, you slowly pull your member out from her, but as soon as your tip peeked out of her, you bury yourself deep inside her, causing a melody of her pleasure getting fill up.
“I love you,” she uttered in between her moans.
Again, pull, and push.
“I love you too.”
Now that you had built a slow and steady rhythm, you gradually upped the pace. Faster but not so sudden. The goal was to induce pleasure and not pain, pushing in but within the comfort of your lover just as she loved as both of you became moaning messes—quick huffed breaths—sounds of sex only the two of you know of. The smell of sex, sweat, and saliva lingered in the air. Moans, squelching noises, profanities, proclamations of love, and chased breaths, roared inside that hotel room, accompanied by the warmth of each other.
You started pounding her, faster and more vigorously than before. Full of vigor but full of control. A little bit rough but Gahyeon wrapped her leg around your lips nonetheless, she wouldn’t want you breaking off her while you thrust and looked at her with the desire to pleasure her. Her eyes shut close and she became louder, screaming at the pleasure of your cock.
For Gahyeon this kind of physical intimacy was a form of assurance to ease her fear. Gahyeon feels your love the most when you two are connected. Sex is the highest form of love. Sex is the greatest expression of it. The heat she was relishing, the roughness, the gentleness, the pain, and the pleasure were evidence of love. 
It was a treasure how your palm caressed her cheek underneath all that mess. After all, she was a mess and you were a mess, but there was this certain kind of beauty and order amidst all of that and only you two knew of it—only your love knew of it.
There was no time for rest as you as that climax was coming. She didn’t want you to stop fucking, and you didn’t want to either. You fucked her hard and fast. It was a high that you knew too much of. A drug that was only available for you. A medicine that heals Gahyeon and you, but keeps you addicted. It was a contradiction, amidst all that high and intoxication, being lost in the trance of pleasure, you didn’t get lost and chased the pleasure for you alone. You chased her pleasure, and she chased your pleasure, aiming to please each other.
You found her breast, still clothed in her black brassiere. You squeezed and she whined in response and quickly tried to get rid of it, reaching for her straps and setting them aside before flipping them to expose her bountiful mounds. You dove right onto it, took her hardened nippled, and suck on it while massaging the other breast. It was softer than marshmallows, it was like you were kissed by a cloud.
However, you didn’t forget fucking her, you thrust as you sucked like a baby on Gahyeon’s breast. All Gahyeon could do was to receive all of it, and hug your head, hoping it would help you eat her better. 
It was time to give attention to the unattended boob. You removed yourself from her boob and left red marks all over her breasts, and a lingering feeling of stretch on her nipple, saliva all over it. You did the same to the other boob, suckles, bites, kisses, peck, smack, smooch, and snog, all the things you could to do to make her release those lovely sounds and to compel her to hug you more tightly and to enable yourself to feel her warmth more, get buried on her breast more.
Although you couldn’t give her boob as much attention at the one as she pulled you up for a momentary rest. You made eye contact with you and chased your breath. Get pulled by her brown orbs. The tips of her lips raised, showcasing her iconic fox smile. Her eyes were as dazed as yours, but she still gazed at you lovingly before uttering the words, “Kiss me.”
“I love you, Lee Gahyeon.” You gladly complied and dove right into kissing her. Gahyeon cupped your cheeks. It was an amorous kiss you shared. A kiss to last a lifetime. One of too many. Certainly not the last but you kissed her as if it was the last. It was as sweet as the first though. You slowed down your pace to allow yourself to relish it more, the way your cock stirred her insides, the it twitches after hitting her deepest parts every time, the way it filled her, the way her lips connect to yours, the way you fuck her while you two shared a loving kiss, and the way she loves you.
Soon a knot in your loins introduced itself to you. What she was chasing for you eventually came and without breaking the kiss of the movement of your hips. You felt a built-up in your groins as her quim clenched, and tightened around your cock. It was time for her too. She tightened her hug, nails dug into your back as you slammed deep inside and pulled her out again and again until you could no longer hold it another.
One last time for the last run, putting in all of your remaining stamina. You fucked like you had every intention to impregnate her. Both of you groan in great pleasure as you let loose to release wave after wave of your thick semen deep inside her while quivered, shut her eyes, bit your lips, and bucked her hips as her orgasm collided with you. An instant climax, and delight, with her plugged pussy leaking out juices that were mixed with her fluids yours.  Her orgasm was strong as all of that built up in her stomach released a wave of ecstasy.
The high felt like forever. The satisfaction was great. Both climaxes subsided and you felt your flaccid member slipping out of her, and her pussy finally unplugged, leaked out your cum. After a few seconds of being frozen in place, Gahyeon released your lip and you let out a sigh of relief before licking the blood off your lip. You collapsed beside her and she turned to face you and hugged you as she tried to recover from the hot session herself.
“I love you too.” Gahyeon gave you a peck, resulting in you blushing. Out of embarrassment you turned your back on her, stood up to get tissues and that thing, and hid it underneath the box of tissues. You went back to the bed and helped her wipe herself and lean off the leaking semen in between her legs. She was smiling mischievously as you wiped her as if she was planning to tease you. 
“Why are you acting shy? You’re wiping as if that’s not your cum and you didn’t just eat my pussy.” Her words made you choke and she just laughed heartily. Gahyeon was back to her usual self—cheerful and teasing master. 
“I’m not, I’m just thinking about how much I love you.”
You reasoned out. It was far from what she said, but it was the truth. Looking back to all that happened, you couldn’t help but just be happy and relief that you ended up this way. It might be just a hunch but it felt like things would finally get better from here on. It was a little bit chaotic but you finally settled it with SuA. You didn’t choose Gahyeon instead of SuA. You just love Gahyeon and there wasn’t even a competition. What happened with SuA and your feelings for her won’t be forgotten, but it was a lesson. A lesson you would take as you journey with Gahyeon.
Gahyeon is love.
“Why do you have to think about that when you just have to show me?” Gahyeon gazed at you. Her eyes were full of expectation. She was looking far ahead. Looking at the things you two will do from now on. You were looking forward to it too. Gahyeon is the loveliest girl and she isn’t one to hide her love. You just hope to be more like her, and be more confident of your love for her.
“Yes, I’ll do that from now on,” You answered her. You took her hand and smiled at her lovingly. Love was truly bare. Your feelings were as bare as your naked bodies as both of you wore your hearts out. And looking at her, you knew it was time. 
You took her left hand and kissed it. Gahyeon just smiled, not suspicious of anything as you reached for the ring you had hidden earlier. Gahyeon just watched. Her eyes showed a hint of confusion. You just continued smiling. Although, maybe there was a hint of nervousness and awkwardness.
“Gahyeon…” You call for her before kissing your fist, still not revealing the ring you had inside it. At this point, Gahyeon already had an idea of what was happening. Tears formed in her eyes with the anticipation of it. And she was right as you revealed the ring. Her mouth kept agape, surprised, and couldn’t believe what was about to happen. Gahyeon’s puppy eyes were both in shock and filled with bliss. 
It felt like your heart was about to burst out of nervousness. Will she say yes? Will she decline? Those questions played in your head on repeat as you held the ring tightly. It was an expensive ring or anything that could put a hole in your pockets, but it was something more important. The heirloom ring from your mother. An old piece of gold jewelry with a humble diamond.
“Will you marry me?” You finally asked her and beads of clear crystal started flowing down her beautiful face. You let of her hand and wipe them off.
“Stop crying will you?” You said to her but you started crying also. With the ring, you imagined dreams of seeing her in that white dress, walking down the aisle while you wait for her at the altar. You’ll spend time off for a vacation, a honeymoon on the beachside—you know how much Gahyeon loves the beach. Maybe even starting your own family.
Fingers fidget, and hearts boomed. Time slowed down at that moment in that hotel room. You panicked and weren’t sure if you would wipe her tears first or wipe yours first, but you opted for a third option. You took her left hand once again, and carefully put the ring on her finger.
“Yes, I will marry you!” Gahyeon didn’t stop crying, but she didn’t seem sad at all. The smile painted all over her face said it all, and seeing that made you feel warm inside. It was burning, but it didn’t hurt at all. Neither of you stopped crying but it was okay. 
It was a beautiful moment to share. She hugged you tightly, and you reciprocated until you found yourself sharing a kiss. A lovely kiss. Then once again locked eyes, gazing at each other, ever smiling and happy.
Her smile was beautiful. Her happiness was the most beautiful thing to exist. And you’ll do anything to protect that.
Yes, just like that day.
That one cold winter night.
We were out late because of a schoolwork project. The other kids had already gone home and were the only ones to go in the same direction so we walked together. Well, I wouldn’t let a girl walk home that late at night.
We were walking and at that time, we weren’t particularly close or friends yet.
But we ended up talking.
You talked about your dreams. And I talked about mine.
It was just fun.
And maybe,
That was when I started developing something for you.
Well, I realized too late that it was love.
But maybe at that moment, I fell in love with you unknowingly.
All of you were just too beautiful.
The moon bore witness to it.
Your laughs.
Your smile.
Your eyes.
Your dream.
Your everything.
That was when Jasmines bloomed in winter.
Aletheia & Etterath
*Series End*
***
A/N - idk did I do something? i think it's bad HAHAHAH
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skbeaumont · 1 day
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Five for Five | Joel x Reader Oneshot
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“I ain’t stupid.” His tone is heavy now, words grating out of his throat like rusty razor blades. “Last I checked, we had one hundred and two. There’s ninety-seven here. That’s five missing.”
Summary: It was probably a stupid idea to trade five ration cards for a tiny bottle of perfume, and it's not surprising that Joel is angry, but you think it might just be worth it. Tags/warnings: fem reader, smut, dubcon, spanking, punishment, dom!Joel, sub!reader, first time, oral (m receiving), fingering, pet names, unprotected p in v, aftercare. Word Count: 4k
A/N: Forgive me father for I have sinned. This is pure filth. Please mind the tags/warnings.
“Where are the rest?”
Joel’s voice cuts through you as soon as you step inside the apartment. It’s late, already dark out, and the dangerous edge to his words makes you jump as you step inside, shoulders aching, feet numb from the long walk back home through the QZ.
“Jesus fuck, Joel. What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t answer, just holds up his hand and shakes the stack of ration cards that are clutched in his fist. The only light is coming from the wonky reading lamp in the corner and it casts an amber glow over the apartment and Joel’s stern face.
“I said,” his voice is steady, clear, but you can already hear the frustration that’s buried underneath it, the anger that’s so quick to rise in him threatening to bubble over, “where are the rest?”
“They should all be there,” you reply, letting your eyes fall down to your boots, toeing them off so that you don’t have to look at his face.
“Well, they ain’t.” He takes a step toward you, his own boots heavy on the worn linoleum floor. “And I wanna know where they are.”
“Did you check under the floor?”
Of course he’s checked under the floor, and of course they aren’t there, because last night you took a handful – five, max – and traded them for a tiny bottle of perfume that’s now stuffed under your mattress. Joel rarely checks the ration cards – he lets you deal with that side of the dodgy business you’ve been running together for the last year and a half – so you’d thought you could get away with it. That he wouldn’t notice. But this is Joel, and he’s noticed.
“I ain’t stupid.” His tone is heavy now, words grating out of his throat like rusty razor blades. “Last I checked, we had one hundred and two. There’s ninety-seven here. That’s five missing.”
With this last he slams the pile down on the kitchen side next to you, stepping right up into your space so that you feel his breath – hot and tinged with the scent of cheap bourbon – on the side of your face. You’ve seen him angry so many times, but it’s never been directed at you before, and you’re starting to understand why most people avoid his gaze in corridors, why men cross the street when they see him coming. 
“Did you miscount?” You ask, fighting to keep your voice level, light.
“Did I miscount?” He repeats, slow, each word enunciated like it’s a full sentence on its own, and you realise it was probably the worst thing you could have said.
His fingers are hot on your chin when he grabs it, tilting your reluctant face up, dragging your eyeline to meet his. His face is a sight to behold: eyebrows furrowed, deep groves carved out in the lines that surround them, his jaw tense, a muscle twitching as he grinds his teeth. There’s danger in his eyes; a fire behind them that burns as he stares down at you.
“No, I didn’t miscount.” He spits the last word out, eyes tracing the blush that’s crawling up your throat, the way your eyes dart away from his, the flicker of your pulse – fast, rising – in your throat. The trace of the misdirection, the lie, so obvious.
He can read you like a book, always could. But you’re stubborn. You’re not giving anything away if you don’t have to. Those cards are yours as much as they’re his, and this one thing you’ve allowed yourself in eighteen months is worth the way his fingertips are digging into the sides of your face.
“What did you trade ‘em for?” He asks.
“Fuck you.”
He laughs at this, lets your face go and takes a single step back, swings his arm to his side and lets it carry him into a half turn. You slump back against the door, peeling paint sticking uncomfortably to your back. But it’s a short-lived reprieve.
“Fuck me?” He repeats, turning back to you. “After all I’ve done for you, all the shit I’ve taken for you-”
“I didn’t ask you to!” Your voice is shrill compared to his gruff curses, but you continue, adrenaline spiking, “And you’ve been the cause of at least half of that shit, Joel. Don’t make out like you’re some knight in shining armour when we both know the truth!”
The truth: that he’s brutal, feared by almost everyone in the QZ;  that people only trade with the two of you because of your hard work and negotiation skills. Joel’s good for enforcing things, for smuggling things in and out, and for sending a message when anything goes wrong, but he’s also a broken man whose anger has got him into more than a few scrapes that you’ve had to get him out of with nothing more than your sharp tongue and quick thinking.
He lets you rally this outburst at him, doesn’t blink in the face of it, until you’ve finished. Then he’s striding back to you, slamming the hand holding the cards hard against the door behind you. It makes you flinch away but his other hand’s back on your jaw, grip tighter this time, forcing you to look up at him.
“Where are the rest?” He repeats, brandishing the ration cards so that they’re inches from your face.
“They’re mine as much as they’re yours.” You say, quietly defiant despite the way your voice shakes.
“You trade them?”
“What does it matter?”
“Nuh-uh,” He twists his hand, turns your face away so that you’re forced to look to the side instead of into his face and he can say the next words into your ear. “This ain’t how this works. I ask the questions, you answer ‘em. Did. You. Trade. Them?”
His face is so close to yours now that you can feel spit landing on your cheek as he speaks, his breath hot in your ear. It shouldn’t turn you on, but it does. You can feel yourself getting wet, slick pooling unbidden between your thighs. It’s hard to ignore a man like Joel, but it’s even harder to get close to him. You don’t think he’s ever been so near to you before, not even when you’ve tended each other’s wounds after a run went south.
You’ve always wanted him to; held a secret flame that’s grown brighter and hotter over the last few months. There’s something undeniably attractive about Joel. The way he moves, the quiet confidence he exudes and the brutal, coiled power of him. You’ve watched him set his fist into another man’s jaw and wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of his temper, his passion.
Now, with his face so close to yours, his thick fingers digging into your jaw, you feel yourself sinking into it, relaxing despite the tension of the situation. You want this, you want his anger and razor-sharp focus. It’s overwhelming in the best way, and you feel tears burning at your lower lashline.
“Yes. I traded them.”
A tear slides down you face and Joel’s eyes trace its path as it glides over your check, pooling in the corner of your mouth, salty and unrepentant.
“What for?”
“Perfume.”
He laughs again, but this laugh is full of derision, not mirth. It’s a punch of a laugh, straight from his chest, catching in his throat and distorting into a growl that sends a shiver up your spine and a bolt of lightning through your cunt.
“Perfume.” He repeats, turning your face in his hand so that you’re looking at him again.
His pupils are blown wide, his face a mask of fury and something else that has you pressing your thighs together, seeking friction. He notices you doing it, lets his eyes follow the movement of your hips, the desperate, needy breaths you’re sucking in. He grins, teeth bared.
“And what, exactly, do you need perfume for?” He asks, not giving you time to answer before he’s bending down and pressing his nose into the side of your neck, inhaling deeply, stubble scratching your throat. “Smell sweet enough to me already.”
“Joel, please,” you say, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for, because he’s licking a thick stripe up the side of your throat and you think if he stops you might scream.
“Buy it for those boys I see sniffing around you sometimes? Huh?” He asks, drawing back from you and shaking your face in his hand roughly. “Knew you were nothing but a fucking slut.”
“I just- I wanted something nice.” You try to explain, the words catching in your throat as he slides one thick thigh between yours.
“Something nice? What makes you think you deserve something nice, hmm? Ain’t nothing nice in this place, you should know that as well as I do.”
And you do, God knows you do. The QZ is dark and twisted and fucking soul-crushing, but you’d wanted the perfume, wanted it with a deep yearning that matches the way you want Joel to keep going now, to push you and punish you and take what he wants.
“I think you need to learn a lesson, baby.”
You’re nodding into his hand, tears rolling down your face, splashing onto his thick fingers. He lets go of your jaw, takes you by the wrist and pulls you into the room, toward the sofa, over his knee when he sits. Your stomach is pressed into his thighs, face buried in the dirty sofa cushion and he’s got one hand pressing into your spine, the other searching out the button of your jeans. He undoes it, wastes no time in dragging the worn denim down your shaking thighs.
“You’re gonna lie there and take it, you hear me?” He says, splaying a hand over your bare ass cheek, moving the line of your knickers out of the way so that he can squeeze the meat of you, fingers dipping between your thighs, finding the slick liquid that’s leaking from you.
“Jesus Christ, you’re soaked already. Fuckin’ filthy little thing, aren’t you?” His accent is somehow thickening, vowels lengthening, the twang of his consonants increasing.
“I asked you a question.” He says when you don’t immediately reply, and you nod your head, wipe your wet eyes against the sofa.
“Count for me.” He says, and before you can take a breath to prepare, his hand is coming down sharply on you.
The sting is sharp; delicious.
“Count.” He hisses, and you whisper a faint one, breaking off into a moan when he lets his fingers graze the side of your puffy lips.
You wish you could see his expression, see if this is affecting him as much as its affecting you, if he’s watching with something like ecstasy on his handsome, haunting features.
The second smack is harder than the first, sharper and sweeter for it. It makes you jerk against him but he’s holding you down firmly with one solid hand in the middle of your back, pressing you into his thighs, into his lap. The denim of his jeans is rough against your bare stomach, scratching you skin where your shirt’s risen up. The third slap makes you yelp, harder again, but he soothes it immediately with his palm, rubs the flesh of your ass.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Enjoying being bent over my lap and spanked like the dirty whore y’are, huh?”
You can’t believe the filth that’s dripping from his lips. Sure, he curses plenty, and you’ve heard him cuss out entire rooms full of angry men, but this is something else entirely. This is animalistic and derogatory and indecent. And God help you, its sending rushes of hot liquid practically gushing down your thighs.
“Be so easy to slide myself inside you, you’re so goddamn wet.” He says as he sends another harsh slap onto your ass. “Open you up and press myself inside this soaking cunt, hmm? Bet you’d let me, too, let me do fucking anything to you.”
“Yes, Joel, please, anything.”
His third laugh of the afternoon is throaty and coarse, full of self-indulgence. It makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, makes you clench your thighs together and grind your teeth to stop you from crying out again.
“You gonna come like this, baby?” He asks, sliding his hand over the meat of your ass, down between your thighs to press at your entrance, slipping beneath your ruined underwear. “Come on my lap like the dirty fucking slut I know you are?”
The sweet sting as he pushes two thick fingers inside you almost pushes you over the edge there and then, but you bite into your lip – probably drawing blood, but you’re too distracted to notice. He curls his fingers, drags the pads of them over the soft flesh inside you, seeking out that spot that makes you almost black out, pleasure ratcheting up so suddenly that you gasp, coming hard in his lap, muscles shaking and contracting, cunt squeezing his fingers tight.
“There she is,” He hisses, curling them again, chasing you as you shift against him, overstimulated.
How is he so good at this? You’ve never seen him with anyone – he’s always given the impression that he has no interest in sex, in relationships, friendships, even. But the expert way that he’s playing your body like an instrument, chasing your moans and gasps like they’re the air he needs to stay alive, tells a completely different story. And when you jerk in his grip and he presses you harder against him, shifting on the sofa, there’s suddenly a very clear indication of just how much of an affect this is having on him, too.
“Shit,” His voice is ragged now: This outburst isn’t controlled in the way that the rest of the curses he’s been spewing into your ears have been. It’s unexpected and bitten back behind a grunt as your hip comes into contact with his cock – a solid, hot weight that fills the front of his jeans, pressing the button of his flies into you, his pocket a line of stitches on your stomach.
The next smack is all the harder for the tiny huff of a giggle you let out, which turns quickly into a hiss of pain when his palm comes down hard against you.
“Concentrate,” He warns when you don’t immediately count the spank aloud. “’m teaching you a fuckin’ lesson, here, remember?”
“Four.” You say, pressing your face harder into the cushion, rolling your hips just slightly so that his cock twitches against your stomach.
“Five for five.” He says, soothing your heated flesh with the palm of his hand before bringing it down one final time. “Five. Think you’ve learnt your lesson?”
You twist round in his lap, eyes dancing when you see the flush that’s tinted his cheeks, the way his gaze is lingering on the swell of your ass cheek in his hand, perspiration beading on his heavy brow.
“I don’t know, Joel, do you?” You say, voice teasing, and he snaps his eyes up to your face as he hisses through clenched teeth.
“Fuckin’ mouth on you, you insolent little slut,” he curses, fisting the collar of your shirt and pulling you upright, opening his legs so that you slide between them onto the cold lino floor.
“Think we can find a better use for it, hmm?” He leans back against the couch, pops the first button on his jeans. Your eyes follow the movement hungrily, unable to look away as he slide the zip down painfully slowly, tooth by tooth, the clicks loud in the silent apartment.
He doesn’t take the jeans off, just pushes them far enough down his thighs that he can fist his cock where it sits, heavy and thick, in his underwear. There’s a dark stain at the tip that makes your mouth water, and when he drags his briefs down, too, you lick your lips greedily.
He’s painfully hard – head flushed a deep red, veins standing out boldly against his thick shaft. There’s a thatch of dark hair at the base, and his balls are heavy and full when he tucks the waistband of his briefs underneath them.
He strokes himself lazily a few times and you let yourself look up to his face. His eyes are dark, pupils eating into the deep brown irises, brows furrowed slightly. The amber light of the lamp is casting his face partly in shadow and it only accentuates the strong, curved line of his nose, the deep creases that lines his eyes and forehead. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists, his gaze so sharp and focused it makes you dizzy.
“C’mon then,” he says, running a hot hand up your jaw to grip the back of your neck, pulling you in towards him. “I got no doubt you know exactly what you’re doing here.”
The scent of him is musky and something distinctly masculine, and you bury your nose in the thick hair at the base of him, place a heated kiss to the side of one thigh. This alone make him moan, a deep, throaty sound that lights you up from the inside.
You press your lips to the tip of him, flick your tongue out to kitten lick at the slit.
“Fuck,” he curses.
He’s sensitive. When you wrap a hand around the base of his cock and place your lips around him he hisses, fingers tightening their grip in your hair, free hand fisting the loose cover of the worn couch. You take him further in, suck your cheeks in to caress him, work your tongue over the delicate ridge at the head of his cock. He tastes like salt and sweat and something distinctly Joel, masculine and heady. When he hits the back of your throat you try not to gag, try to swallow him down, throat contracting around him so that he groans and curses.
“Jesus Christ, baby. Your mouth is fuckin’ filthy.”
You grin around his cock, work your hand over the part of him that won’t fit, then pull back and lick one long strip up his shaft, letting your tongue follow one of the thick veins. He presses himself back into your mouth, tightens his grip on the back of your neck and raises his hips off the sofa.
“You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth, baby?” He asks, and you nod, feel hot tears prickling in your eyes when he starts moving, dragging his hips back and then forward, forcing his cock into your mouth, down your throat so that you feel like you’re choking, like all that exists is Joel and his hard cock, his breathy moans and filthy mouth.
“Got such a clever fuckin’ mouth, baby. Just needed to find a way to put it to good use- shit, yeah, that’s it.” He pushes you down once more, groans as he bottoms out on your throat, then releases the back of your neck so that you can pull back.
You’re a mess, tears rolling down your face, saliva pooling in your mouth and joining your lips with Joel’s cock in long strings. Joel’s looking down at you with fire in his eyes, his dark gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes to the open buttons of your shirt and the swell of your ass.
“Get up,” He says, wrapping his hand around your upper arm and pulling you to your feet.
Before you’ve time to get your balance he’s bending you over, forcing you onto your hands and knees on the sofa. He lines himself up behind you, drags the blunt head of his cock through your soaking folds and presses himself inside your cunt.
The stretch is intense. You squeeze your eyes shut, press yourself back against him as he inches inside. He pauses for a split second when he’s sheathed himself fully inside, then pulls out and begins a punishing pace, fucking you into the sofa, his hands gripping your hips so hard you’re sure he’ll leave marks in the shape of his fingertips.
“Pussy’s gripping me so fuckin’ tight, darlin’” He says, and something in your chest swells at the sound of ‘darlin’’ rolling off his tongue like that, full of something that’s dangerously close to fondness.
He’s a cacophony of contradictions, greedy hands gripping your hips possessively, then smoothing up your back under your shirt before sliding back down to slap the soft flesh of your ass. His thrusts are hard and intense, cock hitting that spot inside you that makes electricity jolt in your stomach with each movement, but then he bends over you, slows his hips so that he can kiss the skin of your throat. His voice – deep, husky, reverberating in his chest – keeps up a filthy chorus that has you whimpering into the couch, but he’s praising you, offering you gentle encouragement, his words warm and dirty and entirely overwhelming.
Being so good for me, baby, pussy’s so fuckin’ wet and tight around me. Can feel you getting close, you gonna come like this, huh? With my cock buried deep inside this pretty little cunt?
Without waiting for an answer he wraps an arm around you and finds your clit with two of his thick fingers. He starts rubbing confident circles over it, bringing you closer and closer to your inevitable climax. You grip his arm with your fist; fingernails digging into hard muscle.
Then suddenly you’re coming apart, white noise blocking out the sound of his hips slapping into yours and his voice and the low level hubbub of the other apartments, until there’s nothing left but your pleasure and his cock and his clever fingers, his nose pressed into your throat, teeth nipping the tendons there.
The world fades back into existence as you come down, muscles jolting. You feel yourself clenching around him with the aftershocks. Joel gasps into your neck, squeezes your tits over your shirt.
“Fuck, just like that, gonna come in this sweet cunt. Shit, that’s it.” His thrusts falter, hips slamming into yours.
You feel him twitch inside you as he comes, ropes of hot cum painting the inside of you, his stuttering breath at your ear.
You stay as you are for a moment, both gasping for breath, hearts hammering in your chests. His embrace is suddenly tender, muscles shifting as he relaxes against you. You don’t say anything, but he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, and that simple gesture opens a floodgate in your chest.
He pulls out of you but keeps his arm around you, guides you both down to lie on the couch, your back pressed to his front. The light in the apartment feels different than it did earlier, the orange hue warmer, kinder than it was.
Joel peppers kisses along the back of your neck and over each shoulder, his strong arm keeping you firmly against him. He wraps a thick thigh over both of yours and tightens it, anchoring you in place. You sigh in contentment, head quieter than it’s been for months, years, possibly.
“I didn’t hurt you?” He says into your hair, voice low.
“No, Joel.”
“You sure? I’m sorry if I was too rough. I don’t- I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I liked it, Joel.”
He chuckles darkly, hooks his chin over your shoulder and teases the skin under your ear with his teeth.
“Fuckin’ filthy, aren’t you? Always knew you were.” He presses his nose to your neck, inhales deeply. “Perfume’s nice, by the way.”
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