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kingexpl0sionmurder · 3 years

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Mutual Misunderstandings - Kirishima Eijirou - Smut

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou / F!Reader Rating: 18+ (Contains smut) Words: 5,866 Warnings: Quirkless AU, Aged up characters (they adulty adults!), unprotected vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), very very light choking, reader has a bit of a size kink. AN: Another entry for the BNHAREM collab! This time we’re writing roommates, and I somehow managed to snag Kirishima! I’m super excited for all of the fics coming this time around, so make sure you click on the link below and read some of the other submissions!

This is my first time writing Kirishima and I’m super nervous about it. I’ve always really loved him because he’s just the best boy and he’s so brave and strong and gentle and I just want to cuddle him into oblivion. I also firmly believe he’s going to be a huge tank of a man when he gets older and I’m going with that vision of him here.

Collab Masterlist is HERE My Masterlist is HERE Buy me a KoFi if you’re feeling froggy HERE

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You stood in your living room, your jaw hanging open, staring at him in shock. Kirishima had a similar look on his face, the two of you pointing at each other like that Spider-Man meme.

“You mean to tell me you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” You finally choked out, blinking owlishly at your best friend and roommate. “I thought you liked Mina!”

Kirishima sputtered, shaking his head. “No way! She’s my friend, we’ve known each other since middle school, you know that.” He moved to cross his arms across his broad chest. “And anyway, there’s no way you like me, you have a crush on Bakugou!”

There was no way this was happening right now. “No! I don’t like Bakugou like that! He’s a pain in my fucking ass, and I think about murdering him on a daily basis.” Facepalming, you groaned. “Are we really this stupid?”

How did you end up here?

It started back in your first year of college.

The parties and the seemingly endless studying had become a comfortable routine for you. So what if you were sleep-deprived and living on cup noodles? You were getting your higher education and ready to tackle the real world head-on in just a few short years.

A pipe dream, but still.

You had your best friend Shinsou by your side and a customer loyalty card at the campus coffee shop and everything was right with the world. You’d even managed to get paired up with Hitoshi’s (sort of) boyfriend for an English project, which was a better outcome than what you could have hoped for, not having to work with some rando on something that would be a large chunk of your grade.

Kaminari had suggested that you work on it at his place with the promise of Doritos, and you agreed. Who were you to turn down snacks? Poor college students needed those cheese dusted carbs to survive.

The Upsilon Alpha fraternity was one of the best and most popular on campus, and at first, you found it almost laughable that Kaminari was a member. At first glance, he seemed like a total space cadet stoner who didn’t belong in college, much less as a member of such an esteemed frat. However, after getting to know him, you knew that he was most definitely all of those things, but he was also insanely smart when it counted and kept above average grades in his classes (except for math, but with him being a bisexual disaster human, it came with the territory).

You had made some decent progress on your project after about an hour. The outline was done, and you were discussing how you would be presenting it since you had a choice between a written essay or a PowerPoint presentation.

Without warning, the kitchen door flew open, the doorknob slamming into the wall behind it.

“Well, the quiet was nice while it lasted, huh?” Kaminari blinked, completely unfazed by the commotion, leaning back in his chair and eating a chip.

Your gaze flitted over to the man who was glaring at the two of you from the doorway, his hands shoved in his pockets. Blonde hair that looked so much like an explosion was sticking up in every direction on his head, and you felt his red eyes trained on you as he took in the room. “What are you doing, Dunceface?”

Kaminari didn’t answer right away, raising his eyebrow and grinning at the new arrival. “Hey, Kacchan.”

If the bulging vein in the man’s forehead was any indication, Kaminari had said the wrong thing. He opened his mouth, and you assumed it was to threaten your project partner, but he was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder from behind.

“Bakubro, be nice. Kami has company.”

The man that appeared beyond the angry pomeranian took your breath away. He was...big. Like, his shoulders were so wide you wondered how he was going to fit through the doorway. And he was tall, with spiked red hair making him look even taller, big red eyes and sharp teeth, and the most beautiful smile you’d ever laid eyes on.

Blonde and grumpy grumbled, moving aside to let giant and red into the room, who then turned that megawatt million-dollar smile on you, and you tried your best not to stare at his biceps or the way his shirt clung to his chest.

Was it hot in here all of a sudden?

“Hi! I’m Kirishima, and this ray of sunshine is Bakugou, we’re some of Kaminari’s frat brothers!” He held out his hand for you to shake, and you smiled up at him, taking his giant hand in yours. The size of his fingers sent your brain reeling, and you knew you needed to get yourself under control before you started moaning out loud in front of him.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you! Kami and I are just working on an English project.” You explained, grinning back up at him, trying to keep the lust off of your face. You didn’t want to look like some kind of freak.

He took his hand back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, you must be Shinsou’s friend! Kami told us you’d be coming over, I forgot about that.” He turned, watching as Bakugou slunk over to the fridge and opened the door. “Don’t let us bother you, we’re just grabbing some water before we head to the gym.”

Kaminari snorted. “Dude, if you get any beefier we’re going to need to remodel the doors so you can fit through them.”

Kirishima turned as red as his hair, glancing at you, before he grinned at his friend. “If I stop, no one will be able to bench press you and Sero at the same time at the next party.”

“Bro, that is my favorite party trick of yours.” He sat up straighter, looking forlorn at the thought of it not happening anymore. “Okay, fine, go to the gym.”

Bakugou grumbled from behind him something that sounded like “I could bench press four of you if I wanted to.”

“Of course you could, buddy.” Kirishima slung his arm over Bakugou’s shoulder. “Okay, we’re out of here. It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Good luck with your project!”

Bakugou grunted and shoved a water bottle at Kirishima, shrugging out from under his arm and leaving the room. Kirishima smiled at you when you said goodbye, hurrying after his sour-faced friend and leaving you and Kaminari to your work.

“Your housemates are...interesting.” You managed, still trying to wrap your head around the red-haired man.

Kaminari snorted. “Kirishima is the walking definition of sunshine, and Bakugou is...well, he takes some getting used to. But he’s not a bad guy.”

You just hummed, chewing on your pen absently. “Can he actually bench press you?”

“Fuck yeah. He does it one-handed. You should come to our next party and see for yourself.”

Keeping your face as neutral as possible, you nodded. “Maybe I can convince Shinsou to come with me.” Wiggling your eyebrows at Kaminari when he blushed, you turned back to the notebook that lay open in front of you. “Come on, let’s figure this out so we can talk more about your intentions with my best friend.”

You did show up to the next UA frat party, Shinsou in tow. Your purple-haired bestie was grumbling the whole way, his hands shoved in his pockets. It didn’t stop him from making fun of how short your skirt was and teasing you about how you’d done nothing but talk about Kirishima since the day you’d met him.

“He’s like Clifford the Big Red Dog, Y/N. Clumsy and adorable.”

“He’s definitely big. I’d like to climb him like a tree.” You linked your arm with his, walking up to the giant house, the windows already rattling with the bass pumping through the speakers inside.

“You’re disgusting. I am appalled and also proud to call you my best friend.” Sarcastic as usual, he let you drag him along without a fuss.

“That sounds about right.”

The party was in full swing, half the campus milling around inside the house with red plastic cups in hand. You found Kaminari almost immediately, shoving Shinsou towards him and making your way to the kitchen to find yourself a drink.

“Y/N!” Kirishima was in front of you almost immediately, giant cat eyes and his shark tooth smile lighting up the room. “Kami mentioned you might show up!”

Blushing, you nodded, suddenly losing the ability to form words. He was wearing a tank top, his arm muscles on display, and you took a moment to thank the Lord for the blessing before you.

“You want a drink?”

You realized you were staring, so you cleared your throat and smiled at him. “Yes, please.”

His large hand wrapped around your elbow gently as he tugged you through the crowd in the kitchen and out towards the back porch. You tried not to think about how your skin was burning under his touch. You needed to get a grip.

He got to work on the keg, pumping the handle on the top and grabbing you a cup, tilting it a bit as he filled it with beer.

“Hey, shitty hair! Beer pong!” You turned to see Bakugou standing on the other side of the large wooden deck, his arm resting on the shoulder of a tall and lanky brown-haired boy. “Sero here wants to break up the dream team! Find a partner!”

Kirishima chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, hang on!” He turned to you, handing you your drink. “So, you play beer pong?”

Bringing the cup to your lips, you tilted your head back and chugged your beer, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand when you’d finished. Kirishima was staring at you with wide eyes, looking surprised but pleased. “Yeah. I’m better when I’m drunk, though.”

He held out his hand for the empty cup, moving to fill it up again, his grin never faltering. “Let’s go kick their asses.”

That was the beginning of your friendship with Kirishima. What had started as a crush on the red-haired man had turned into a companionship that you couldn’t ever see yourself without. That was why you never said a word about how you really felt.

As cliché as it was, you didn’t know how you’d survived without the guy. He was nothing short of amazing. He was a great listener, and he gave good advice. He was always there when you needed him, bringing you soup when you were sick, going on late-night snack runs when you were up all night studying for exams, showing up with chocolate and tampons when it was your time of the month.

Shinsou had always done those things for you, but he was spending a lot of time with his boyfriend now. You weren’t upset about it though, you thought they were the cutest and you didn’t want to third wheel their time together, so you hung out with Kirishima and Bakugou a lot more often.

As Kaminari had told you on that first day, Bakugou truly wasn’t a bad guy. His attitude got on your nerves though, and you envisioned punching him in the face at least four times a day, but you didn’t dislike him. He and Kirishima were best friends, so he was a part of the package, and you learned to deal with him.

So it was a no-brainer when Kirishima and Bakugou approached you and asked if you wanted to get an apartment with them once you’d graduated. With the three of you living together, you were able to afford a nicer apartment than you’d ever dreamed of having that was in a central location and only a few train stops away from where your respective jobs were located.

Things were going well, and you’d done a decent job of keeping your true feelings for Kirishima to yourself. It helped that he’d never dated anyone, and you were free to lust after him quietly, under the impression that no one had caught on to how you really felt, perfectly content to continue as you had been since the day you’d met him.

The only wrench in your plans of quiet pining was Mina Ashido.

Mina was awesome, and you loved her to pieces. She was one of the only other females in your friend group and had been around since you’d gotten closer to the boys in the frat that first year of college. She was the perfect person to go to when you needed some self-care nights, always down to put on a face mask and paint your nails, and she was the best shopping partner.

However, you were thoroughly convinced that Kirishima liked her.

You’d noticed, as far back as your freshman year, how they always gravitated towards each other in social settings. Mina was always one of the last ones to leave when you went out back then, always the one Kirishima threw his arm around when you walked back to campus from the bar.

It was part of the reason you’d become close with Bakugou in the first place. Whenever Kiri was with Mina, you always sidled up to the explosive blonde, teasing him to distract yourself from the way your heart was squeezing in your chest.

Neither of them had ever mentioned having more than just a platonic, friendly relationship with each other, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got whenever you saw them together.

It’s called jealousy, you idiot.

You had nothing to be jealous about though. Kirishima was your friend, and that’s all he would ever be.

Things had been going well, at least that’s what you’d thought. And then this morning had happened.

It was Saturday, which was your normal grocery shopping day. You and Bakugou had taken on the burden of shopping for groceries for the apartment. You’d allowed Kirishima to go once and he came home with more junk food than should be allowed in one cart, and half of the things on the list you’d given him missing, and more protein powder than should be legally allowed.

Bakugou had worked out a system and your grocery shopping trips were like a well-oiled machine that took no longer than an hour out of your day, and you were grateful for your grumpy friend and his penchant for being overly organized.

You finished getting dressed, ready to get this over with so you could use the rest of the day to play video games and be generally lazy. Walking into the living room, you stopped in your tracks to see your roommates glaring at each other, which was normal for one of them, and uncharacteristic for the other.

“Everything okay?” Your eyes darted between the two men, taking in Kirishima’s stiff posture and clenched jaw.

“Fine. I’m going shopping alone today.” Bakugou grunted, turning away from his best friend.

Puzzled, you frowned. “What? Why?”

Bakugou stopped in the doorway, turning to face the both of you, looking thoroughly fed up. He lifted his hand and pointed. “The two of you are making me want to commit myself. I’ve been dealing with this shit for years, and it ends today. You’re in love with each other. Figure your shit out and fuck already. I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

You gaped after him as he turned again, giving you both the middle finger over his shoulder as he left, the door slamming shut behind him.

And that brings us up to speed.

“Are we really this stupid?” You asked, shutting your eyes and leaning your head back.

Kirishima sighed. “This doesn’t make any sense. Since when?”

Snorting, you flopped down on the couch, rubbing at your face tiredly. “Truthfully? Since the moment we met.” You guessed the cat was out of the bag, so you might as well tell him everything. “In the kitchen at the frat house.”

“When you came over to work on that project with Denki?” His eyebrows furrowed, an adorably confused look on his face. “Are you telling me I’ve been pushing you at Bakugou for nearly 5 years for no reason?”

“Yeah, you could stop doing that at any time and I would appreciate it. Unless you want me to strangle him to death.”

Kirishima flopped down on the other end of the couch, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’ve liked you just as long, you know? I saw you sitting in our kitchen and I thought I was going to throw up.”

“If that was supposed to make me feel good about myself then you’ve failed miserably.”

“No! I just mean, the butterflies-” He groaned. “Shut up and let me get this out okay?”

Smirking at him, you turned your body, leaning against the back of the couch. “Okay, sorry, keep going.”

Taking a deep breath, he continued, red eyes trained on your face. “Do you remember the frat party?”

“Which one?”

“That first one, when you chugged that beer in front of me and then helped me kick Bakugou’s ass at beer pong?” He waited for you to nod before he spoke again. “I’d never felt so enamored with anyone in my entire life.” Kirishima let his gaze fall to his hands. “You were so awesome and funny and beautiful and you kept up with my friends and their dumbass antics like a pro and I just...I couldn’t believe you were real. I just kept telling myself that you would never be into someone like me, so I decided that if we could be friends for life then that would be enough.”

“Ei…” You trailed off, frowning. You’d always known he tended to get down on himself. You and Bakugou had done your best to convince him he was worth much more than he let himself believe, but sometimes he needed a reminder.

“I know, I know. I don’t feel that way anymore, but at the time I did.” His hair was down, tied back in a loose bun, bits of his fringe falling in his eyes. He pushed a piece of it behind his ear and kept going. “So I tried to keep my distance, kept on hanging around with Mina, tried not to think about how much I wanted to be with you. She kept telling me I needed to tell you, kept rubbing it in that I wasn’t being manly about it. But you were hanging out with Bakugou so much I just figured you liked him and I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall forward. “I was hanging out with Bakugou because I couldn’t stand seeing you with Mina so much. I was jealous.” Realization hit, and your eyes snapped open. “Mina knew?”

“Yeah, she’s the only one I told.”

“All those times we hung out and she never said a word.” Chuckling, you shook your head. “I told Shinsou. It’s like the only secret he’s ever kept from Kaminari. I threatened to mutilate him beyond all recognition if he mentioned a word to anyone.” You grinned sheepishly at him.

Kirishima huffed a laugh. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Bakugou. Your threats are just as creative as his.”

“Speaking of, I guess he figured it out on his own then.”

Humming, he shrugged. “He was always the smartest one out of all of us.” He looked over at you again. “So, now it’s your turn.”

Raising an eyebrow, you blinked at him. “For what? A heartfelt confession?”

“It’s only fair. I told you how I felt. What did you think when you first met me?”

You felt your ears get hot. “Do you want the truth? Because it’s kind of embarrassing.”

Shifting himself on the couch, he leaned against the arm, tanned forearms resting on his knees. “Oh, this should be good.” He teased, grinning.

“Shut up.” You sighed, preparing yourself for his reaction. “When you walked into the kitchen that day, my first thoughts were...uh...pretty dirty. Like X rated.”

Eyes wide, he stared at you. “Really? How dirty are we talking here?”

You covered your face with your hands, mumbling your answer behind them.

“Sorry, what was that?” He was fucking with you again, you could hear the smirk in his voice, and you were tempted to smack him with a throw pillow.

Taking a deep breath, you moved your hands from your face, looking him right in the eye. “I said, I wanted you to step on me.”

Sputtering, he blinked a few times. “What?”

“I mean, you were this...tank, Eijirou. Like this giant man with gorgeous eyes and a killer smile, with the personality of fucking sunshine and you had these big hands and I wanted you to wrap them around my throat and-”

“Whoa whoa whoa, seriously?” His cheeks were as red as his hair, his hands flailing as he stopped your tirade. “You wanted me to…?

Nodding solemnly, you looked him dead in the eyes. “Yes, and I’ve thought about that like every day since then.”

“I am learning things about you today that I never even imagined.” Blowing a breath out he slumped back, looking shook.

You hurried on, wanting him to know it was more than that. “I mean, after that I got to know you and I love everything about you, Ei. I just, you’re such a good person, better than I could ever be. You care about everyone and you’re always there for me, for all of us, whenever we need you. You’re strong and funny and brave. I always know that I can rely on you.” Sniffling, you couldn’t help the emotions bubbling to the surface.

“But you also want me to step on you.” He was grinning, his eyes a little wet, too.

Wiping at your eyes with your fingers, you chuckled. “Yes, exactly.”

Sighing, he leaned forward, grabbing your arm and tugging. “Come here.”

Crawling across the couch, you laid down between his parted legs, your head resting on his chest. He wrapped his giant arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

“Now what?” You asked, realizing you were afraid of the answer. What happened now?

He hummed, and you heard the sound vibrate through his chest. “I was going to suggest a nap, but now I keep thinking about what you said…”

You lifted up to ask what he meant, shifting your body and freezing when you felt something hard brush against your thigh. Eyes meeting his, you bit your lip at the look on his face, feeling a blush creep over your face and down your neck. “Yeah?”

“I figured we can do things out of order a little bit, right? I’m going to take you on a real date and court you properly, like a gentleman and all that, but right now all I can think about is, well…” He sat up, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you like it was nothing, until you were sitting properly on his lap, straddling his hips. When he was satisfied, his hand moved to your throat, putting the smallest amount of pressure on the sides of your neck with his calloused fingertips.

The moan that tore from your throat was low and quiet, but he heard it, muttering a curse under his breath as you became nearly boneless in his lap. “Eijriou.” You managed, licking your lips and gazing at him through half-closed eyes, your blood pounding in your ears.

It was ridiculous how turned on you were in that moment, and he’d barely done a thing. You felt his cock twitch beneath you, and you couldn’t help but grind down on him, the small amount of friction making you shiver.

Suddenly he was guiding you towards him, your noses bumping and breath mingling as he held you in place, his lips just out of your reach. “You don’t know how much I’ve always wanted you, Y/N.”

Letting your eyes slide closed, you ran your hands up his muscled arms and rested them on his shoulders to keep yourself upright. You were tired of waiting, of keeping yourself from what you wanted. “Show me.”

If you were to die right here on this couch it would have all been worth it. The feeling of his lips on yours, the way he ran his thumb lightly over your throat as he kissed you, had your eyes rolling back in their sockets. You couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, of the feeling of his hard body beneath your fingertips. He was careful with his sharp teeth, tugging at your bottom lip lightly, your tongues sliding together as he rolled his hips against yours.

You pulled back for air finally, taking in his kiss bruised lips and dilated pupils. Reaching down, you tore your shirt over your head, tossing it across the room, never breaking eye contact. You watched his gaze fall to your heaving chest as he worried at his bottom lip for a moment, obviously lost in thought.

Before you could ask him what he was thinking about, he’d shifted again so that his feet were on the floor. Kirishima lifted you off his lap and put you on your feet in front of him, hands moving to your waist, fingers slipping into the elastic of the leggings you were wearing. He pressed his face to your bare stomach, kissing your skin as he worked your pants down your thighs, slipping them past your knees. You played with his hair, moaning softly as he kissed along your hip.

When he sat back you stepped out of your leggings, feeling exposed. You forgot how to be awkward when he was looking at you like that, hungry and wanting. Stepping forward, you pouted. “Why am I the only one half-naked?”

Chuckling, he pulled his shirt off, and you sucked in a breath, trying to wrap your head around the fact that this man, with a chiseled and perfect body like a Greek god, wanted you.

You didn’t even have time to admire him, because he was moving again, pulling you closer by your thighs, sharp teeth hooking into the front of your panties and dragging them down. Tugging the tie out of his hair, you slid it on your wrist, letting your fingers card through his red locks. He let his hands do the rest of the work until the offending garment was tangled around your ankles.

Pushing him away gently, you watched him settle back on the couch, red eyes gazing at you as you reached back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor, finally fully exposed to him. Kirishima sucked in a breath, blinking a few times in disbelief. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

You kicked your panties to the side, moving to kneel in front of him, reaching up to grasp the top of his grey sweats, mouth-watering when you started to tug them down. Kirishima was huge everywhere else, so the size of his cock was of no surprise to you. He was massive, long, and girthy, and you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.

Rubbing your thighs together for some relief, you left his sweats around his ankles, leaning forward and grasping his cock in your hand. It was almost comical how small your hands looked compared to it. Your eyes locked with his as you licked a long stripe up the shaft, tracing along the prominent vein on the underside, and lapping at the precum dripping from the head.

Kirishima’s head fell back to rest on the cushion behind him, his fingers tangling in your hair as you took him into your mouth. Your jaw ached almost immediately as you did your best to swallow all of him down, willing your throat to relax. You’d spent so long thinking about how he would taste and sound as you sucked his soul out through his dick, you were going to make the most out of this moment.

His breathy pants filled the room, along with the obscene slurping sounds of your mouth around his cock. Gripping your hair and tugging lightly, you could tell he was holding back, his thighs shaking with the effort to keep from fucking up into your face. You pulled off, opening your mouth to let him know he could wreck you however he wanted, but he had other plans.

“Come up here, baby.”

The pet name sent shivers through you as you stood up, straddling his lap, his cock pressed up against his stomach. His thumb brushed over your lips, wiping away the spit and pre that spilled down your chin. Cradling your face in his large palm, he pulled you forward and kissed you deeply, his free hand sliding between your bodies. Thick fingers parted your folds, and you lifted up on your knees to give him better access. You moaned into his mouth as he brushed over your clit, gathering the dripping wetness of your cunt along his digits and sliding one finger inside your hole.

You clenched around him, breaking the kiss and keening loudly, your hips involuntarily bucking against his hand. His finger pumped in and out, curling slightly and pressing against your inner walls, stretching you. Gripping your hip with his other hand, he kissed his way down your jaw to your neck and chest, tongue flicking out over your nipple, hot breath ghosting over your skin with a chuckle when you grabbed his head and pulled him towards you.

One finger turned to two and then three as you rocked and mewled in pleasure, his thumb finding your clit again and pressing against the bundle of nerves, whispered praises reaching your ears as he sucked and bit at your breasts. You were on the edge, wanting to fall over and drown in him, needing to cum all over his fingers and then again on his cock, wanting nothing more than to feel this way forever.

“Ei I’m gonna…” You panted, unable to form the words.

Grunting, he moved his fingers faster, pressing his thumb in a little harder, his words of praise streaming steadily, telling you how good you were, how pretty you looked. Eyes rolling back, your body tensed, a moan in the sound of his name leaving your lips as you shook, cumming harder than you ever had in your life.

You were still clenching when he pulled his fingers out of you, his hand slick with release as he tugged on his cock and lined it up with your entrance, your body mourning the loss for mere seconds before he was filling you again. The slick glide of your arousal had you taking nearly all of him, the two of you groaning in tandem at the feeling. Gripping his shoulders, you lifted slightly, slamming your hips back down and taking him to the hilt. The stretch was just on the edge of painful, but his thick digits had stretched you just enough that the pleasure superseded any discomfort.

Still trying to gather yourself after your orgasm, you took a moment to breathe, studying his face, your gaze tracing over the scar on his eyelid, and his dark lashes fanning over his cheeks. An hour ago you never could have imagined you’d be here, panting shakily, drenched in sweat and skin to skin with your best friend and roommate.

Clenching around him, you held his shoulders, rocking forward and lifting yourself slightly. Kirishima gripped your hips, fucking up into you in a steady rhythm, his lips finding yours once again to swallow the panting moans leaving you. You bounced on his cock, relishing the feeling as he kissed down your neck, his fingertips digging into your flesh, sure to leave bruises for you to admire the next day.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but it didn’t even matter. Just being this close to him, feeling him filling you so completely after wanting him for so long, it could have been minutes and you’d be happy. Knowing he felt for you as strongly as you felt for him was enough.

His fingers trailed along your front and dipped in between your bodies to rub your clit again, and you felt the pleasure race down your spine, coil tightening again and ready to break. “Oh fuck, Eijirou!”

Growling, he grunted your name as his hips snapped up to meet yours, chasing his release. “I love you, Y/N.”

His words tipped you over again, your breath catching as you came, the wet sounds of his cock plunging into you increasing as you gushed around him. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, completely spent. You held onto him as he slammed into you a few more times, rhythm faltering and hips stuttering until he was filling you up with a loud groan.

Collapsing back onto the couch, he held you to his chest, the two of you gasping for air. It was quiet for a few minutes as he rubbed his palm along your back comfortingly. You felt relaxed and sated, a pleased smile making its way to your face when you thought about what he’d said.

“Hey, Ei?” You pulled back slightly to look at him, giggling when he peeked one eye open to gaze at you.

“You okay?”

“Mm. I just wanted to tell you that I love you, too.”

He looked sheepish, opening both eyes and biting his lip. “I didn’t mean to tell you like that. I wanted it to be romantic.”

“That was plenty romantic, Eijirou.” Rolling your eyes fondly, you shifted in his lap. “I’m just happy to hear you say it.”

“Man, we did this all wrong. I should have at least taken you to dinner first. This is so unmanly of me, I just couldn’t help it.” He frowned. “I’m sorry-”

“You’re too good sometimes, Ei. I’m not complaining, am I?” You raised an eyebrow. “We should go get cleaned up before Bakugou comes home and finds out we fucked on the couch.”

“Please don’t talk about Bakugou while you’re sitting on my dick.” He made a face that caused you to bust into gasping laughter.

“Oh my god, I can’t.” You wheezed. “You’re ridiculous.” You moved to get up and he stopped you.

With a serious look on his face, he pushed your hair away from your face, his hand lingering near your ear. “I do love you though, Y/N. And I’m glad we finally got here. I didn’t think we ever would.”

Expression softening, you leaned into his palm, smiling at him. “Me too.”

Maybe if you had just told him how you felt all those years ago, you would have been able to have this sooner. But you promised yourself that you wouldn’t dwell on the past, deciding to focus on the future, because you knew it would be filled with more moments with him just like this.

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #eijirou kirishima #eijiro kirishima #mha #mha x reader #kirishima eijirou smut #kirishima eijiro smut #bnha smut #mha smut #eijirou kirishima smut #eijiro kirishima smut #kingexpl0sionmurder writes #bnharem collab

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tomurasprincess · 3 years

Note

I hope you understand that even the idea of an among us au has awakened the need to have imposter Bakugō fuck me in a puddle of a cremates blood while his tongue extends out to choke me all while showing off rows of needle teeth. Clawing at my thighs as he gets in see deep he’s fucking my womb but having it be made pleasurable by the hormones he’s secreting because he’s decided I’m his mate. Look what you’ve done Mari.

Warnings: Among Us AU. Noncon, aphrodisiacs, womb fucking, cumflation, bloodplay, marking, slight gore, forced mating, yandere Notes: That moment a simple thirst post becomes a 1k almost fic. Sorry this is so late, but as you can see, I knew I wanted to do this one right 😂

You’re trapped. Completely and utterly trapped. Despite knowing this ship like the back of your hand, you managed to get cornered in the engine room, surrounded by the mutilated bodies of your crewmates. And the thing responsible for it is staring directly at you, licking his lips and approaching the cornered prey.

“What are you?” You manage to whisper, slowly backing up until you can’t any longer. Your back hits the wall and tears begin to leak out of your eyes. You don’t want to die, not like this.

“Idiotic humans usually call us imposters,” the thing in front of you scoffs. “Works well enough, I guess.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

The creature’s eyes turn sharp, flash of something that you can’t name appearing and disappearing before you identify it. “Of course not, dumbass.”

“But you - you killed everyone else,” you say in horror, even more afraid than if he was just intending to kill you.

“They were in the way, nothing but fucking extras compared to you.” He begins to saunter towards you, and there’s nothing you can do but watch. “You’re my mate.”

Your brain skids to a halt as you try to process his words. But before you can, he’s right in front of you, mouth opening far wider than should be possible and revealing rows and rows of fang-like teeth. A long tongue shoots from his mouth, wrapping around your neck and forcing you to the ground.

His tongue is wet and warm, and it makes your skin burn wherever it touches. You feel your body begin to heat up, slick pouring from your suddenly throbbing cunt. You writhe and whine as the creature looks down at you with a smirk before withdrawing his tongue.

“What - what did you do to me?” You manage to choke out as you continue to writhe on the floor. This is wrong, utterly wrong and disgusting. You’re laying in puddles of your crewmates’ blood, people who were your friends.

And yet you’re feverish with lust at the thing that killed them. “Feel so hot,” you whimper, “what’s wrong with me?”

“It’s to make you feel good through what I’m going to do to you, my pretty little mate,” he chuckles sadistically, hands turning into claws as he shreds your clothes instantly. He’s not overly careful with it, leaving deep furrows of claw marks into your flesh. The blood pours from your wounds, and you expect the pain.

But instead, there is only even more blinding lust.

“Please - “ You don’t even know what you’re begging for.

“Please, Katsuki,” the imposter provides as he grips your hips and pulls you in closer to him.

“Katsuki - please - “

“Fuck, my name sounds so fucking good coming from you,” he groans as he rips his own clothes off. You can’t stop yourself from glancing down, gasping at what you see.

His cock is absolutely massive, complete with spines and ridges along his length. You can’t tell if they’ll hurt or feel amazing inside of you, but your body doesn’t seem to care. You throb with lust as your cunt gushes more juices.

“God, you’re so hot when you’re this needy.” He lines his cock up with your entrance and begins to push inside. He tries to hold himself back, but your slick, warm walls causes his control to snap. He sheathes himself inside of you with one sharp thrust of his hips, and you wail as you instantly cum at the feeling of being stretched so wide.

He begins to fuck you ruthlessly through your orgasm, overstimulating you into two more orgasms before he begins to batter the entrance to your womb. Precum leaks from his cockhead, and you can feel your cervix begin to get just as hot as the rest of your body.

“This will feel weird, but I promise you’ll fucking love it, my mate,” Katsuki chuckles, claws digging into the flesh of your thighs as he begins to make short, sharp thrusts into you.

You pant as you feel him begin to prod your cervix open agonizingly slow, and you throw your head back and wail out another orgasm as you feel him fully penetrate your womb. Your body convulses into the most intense orgasm you have ever had, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you writhe and tremble on the floor.

Your cunt flutters around the cock in your womb, squeezing him so tightly that you can feel every ridge and bump along his cock.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you chant, unable to say anything else as he lengthens your orgasm by continuing to thrust inside of you. One of the ridges presses along your g-spot, and you scream as your vision goes white, squirting all over Katsuki’s legs and cock. “Shit, please, too much, it’s too much - oh god - “

“Shh, shh, just fucking take it,” he grins at you, “gotta make my mate feel good, don’t I?” You feel him twitch deep inside of your womb as warmth floods your insides, and you think you black out for a second as the tension in you snaps one more time.

Your body goes completely limp, head laying back in a puddle of blood. A thought that should horrify you, but you’re too worn out to care. Katsuki pulls out of you more gently than he’s treated you so far, rubbing and pressing down on your stomach. You whimper as you glance down at the bulge there, feeling your cunt gush a mixture of your cum and his.

“What are you going to do with me now?” You manage, your whole body feeling weird. Your skin seems too tight along your body, and heat still burns through your system.

“You’re my mate now, dumbass,” he snorts. “I pumped you full of enough hormones that you’ll change, become more like me. More able to handle me,” he chuckles with sadistic amusement. “Now sleep, and when you wake up, we’ll be home.”

#mari thirsts #bakugou thirst #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo smut #among us au #tw: noncon #tw: aphrodisiacs #tw: bloodplay #tw: marking #anon asks

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courseoflove · 3 years

Text

Questions

You have lots of questions for Harry and he tries his best to answer each of them.

a/n: hiiiii, think it’s been almost a year since I last posted my writing and I’m finally back! thanks to @oh-honey-styles‘s new fic slam prompts, I was able to curate something I liked enough to share. usually it’d take me lotssss of drafts to be satisfied and happy with something but this one only took 2! I hope you enjoy it and pleaaaaseee be kind ⭐️😸 I’d love to hear your thoughts!

warning: this is just pureee filth. not really smut, but filthy regardless.

Word Count: 1,775

Harry’s forest eyes ogle straight at you, lips pressed in a tight line and twitching on one side to form a smirk that he tried his very best not to show.

That was definitely the last thing he expected to come out of your mouth. He thought you just needed help with something minuscule, like putting together new furniture, fixing the wifi, or help pick out an outfit; things you’ve urgently called him about before. He never, ever thought you’d call him one day and ask for this, a lesson on blowjobs out of all things.

Luckily, sex has never been a taboo topic between the two of you, considering he’s the first person you yell to when you’re letting out your frustrations about your lack of experiences, or vice versa when he just had an intercourse dilemma that continues to leave an everlasting impact on him. But when you’re asking him about giving good oral pleasure, his brain is suddenly void of any thoughts that should help the situation at hand.

“Quit smirking at me, I’m serious!” Harry flinches when you throw a pillow at him from across the other side of the sofa, instantly wiping the smirk off of his face and instead letting out a soft chuckle when he successfully catches it. You throw him an intense yet jest glare, “just. Today at work. I dunno. I just need to know. I want to know.”

“How d’you suppose I do that?” he asks cautiously, leaning forward to settle his elbows on his knees and prop his chin up with the palm of his hand, “teach you, I mean.”

You’re usually never embarrassed around Harry, despite the many weird and unusual conversations you’ve both had during sobriety and drunkenness. You don’t remember ever feeling even the slightest bit awkward or sheepish when you told him about how IUDs work, or giving him a very vivid description of how exactly you feel during your menstruation cycle. He takes it all in and listens with amusement, sometimes with a bowl of extra-buttered popcorn on his lap.

But right now, in this exact moment, you feel slightly skittish and jittery, as if blowjobs were something you’re just now learning about. He can sense it, especially with the way you’re averting your gaze from his eyes to the silent flatscreen tv nailed on your wall — thanks to him. You’re also doing that thing he constantly scolds you for whenever you’re anxious and nervous, chewing ferociously on your bottom lip and squeezing your fingers into a fist to the point your nails will sink on your palm and pop your veins.

“Stop that, you’ll bleed,” he cuts the silence off, “and answer my question.”

You unclench your fist and turn towards him again, barely making eye contact and instead looking at the lovely framed painting hung on the wall behind him, “maybe just describe it?”

“It’s really not that complicated,” was all Harry said. He leans back against your soft couch, taking both of your feet with his hands and settling them on his lap to crack each of your toes. You flinch a little on his first try, turning your focus and watching his fingers work against your skin, “think of a lollipop. Or popsicles, something of the sorts. You put it in your mouth and just… suck. Lick. Move your mouth, without the teeth.”

Suck. Lick. Move your mouth; the words that tumbles out of his lips causes you to flush, your whole body heating up and turning beet red, the color dancing across your nose and emphasizing your imperfections flawlessly.

What Harry said was pretty accurate. It’s not as detailed as you want but you don’t really know how to ask for that without feeling mortified and even more flustered. He said it exactly how it is; you just put your mouth around it, suction your cheeks, use your tongue and bob your head. But you feel like there was something missing, as if there should be more to that. Well, because there is. You want to know more.

His fingers have started to dance their way to your calf, squeezing the deep tissues there in a tender and leisure massage to try and get rid of your tensed muscles. You’re wincing in between syllables when you finally speak after a couple of seconds, “question. It might be weird. Just… just tell me if you don’t wanna answer.”

His eyes lock with yours when he hums for you to continue, a strand of curl falling over his forehead and tickling his brow while his bottom lip gets caught in between his teeth in concentration. He presses his warm hands on your leg forcefully and harder and it helps calm your nerves and neurons, your habit of overthinking in situations like this disappearing little by little the more he moves. The lack of poise you had minutes ago is lessening and your question is on the tip of your tongue, ready to burst at the seams and be voiced aloud.

With your face turning a lot redder and goosebumps developing on your skin from head to toe out of the blue, you ask with your voice a little lower than it was a while ago, “will you tell me what you like? When.. you know.”

Harry’s movements quickly halt. Another unexpected turn. Another question he never, ever thought would come out of your mouth to ask him.

He lets go of his lip and keeps his mouth agape, irises instantaneously dilating and darkening under your lemon-yellow light and turning them into an even darker shade, like a week old leaf. His brain performs a short circuit for a few moments that passes by in silence before he finally swallows and says, “you want to know what I like when I’m getting head?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, feeling even more ridiculous the more you look into his eyes and open your mouth, “I mean, you have the most experience out of the two of us. That’s why I asked in the first place, but I feel — I feel like your first answer doesn’t really — it’s just not satisfying me. There has to be more to it than just.. sucking, I dunno.”

Sure, you talk to one another about sex casually; what one undergos and encounters and what the other simply has no preconceived notions of. Harry would tell his stories in the least disgusting way possible, knowing you’ll groan out loud and tease him about it if he gives away any sort of detail, but there was almost always zero utterance on your end. No lingering and continuous curiosity. You asking about what he likes when he’s getting head is very much unforeseen and maybe even a bit… amiss, especially for you.

However, he can detect a genuine inquisitiveness in your expression. You’re probably one of the hardest people to read on the surface, but he senses that there was more to that interest than just simply wanting to know. At least, he’s hoping there is.

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling a bit weird now the more he gawks at you and doesn’t make a single move to respond. You open your mouth to backtrack when his hesitancy becomes clear, but before you can even take your question back, he’s already mouthing a three-syllable word out loud, “mouth-fucking.”

A low gasp leaves your mouth and the sound doesn’t miss Harry’s eardrums. He should want to take it back, shove the words back in his throat and never say it again despite not being able to. Still and all, he realizes that he likes what you asked and the fact he gave you an answer, a brief one but an honest and precise answer nonetheless. The way your skin warms against the palm of his hands makes him start to sweat, your bare face becoming even more flushed if possible. You don’t really know what kind of answer your mind presumed, but it obviously wasn’t that.

You’re aware of Harry’s self-confidence and boldness when it comes to sex. He has lots of it and it doesn’t come as a surprise. So when he opens his mouth again to explain exactly what he meant, you were able to hold your second gasp back and instead listen in. You can just imagine how filthy he is in bed, considering the description he gives you seems to be even more graphic and explicit, “like normal sex, but I’m doing it to their mouth. I like the sound, the sloppiness of it all, it fuels me. I like being in control, I guess, and no one wants a dry blowjob. I like it really wet.”

You startle both yourself and him when you utter, “what else?”

Harry clears his throat and looks away from your eyes, not because of discomfort because there was absolutely none, but for the reason that the more he stares the more he pictures you inside his head doing exactly what he was evoking. He blinks a couple of times in an attempt to get rid of the colorful conception, yet it just becomes even more lucid and clear-cut. He tries to distract himself by continuing to answer your questions. It definitely doesn’t help. It just drags the mental image on.

“I like it when they let me come down their throat, then swallow it. Or when — when the aftermath of pure bliss just overtakes my entire body. Like, they just pull away for a second then suck me right back in,” the skin on your legs feel sticky under his hold. You swallow at his dazed appearance and tiny smirk, as if he’s picturing it all in his head. And he is, “yeah. I like that a lot.”

Somehow it’s gotten a lot warmer inside the tiny space of your living room, every corner closing in on the two of you in your peripheral vision and you can’t exactly make out the tingling sensation on the tip of your fingers and in between your thighs. Well, you do. You know you’re undoubtedly turned on but acting clueless and ignoring it would be the best way to handle it.

You ask him one more question, the last one you’ll emit for the rest of the evening, “and how was it for them?”

Harry turns his head, connecting his darkened eyes with yours. There’s an indecipherable message written all over his handsome face. His voice is heavy, raspier and deeper with his accent when he answers for the last time, a specific implication behind his tone, “one of these days, you’ll see.”

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cherienymphe · 3 years

Text

Crave (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, vampire!Peter, bloodplay, mentions of animal cruelty, mentions of murder, mentions of X-Men characters

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

divider provided by @/k1tty4rk

summary: when Peter goes missing while on a mission, he’s not exactly himself when he returns. His appetite is a little different now, and you soon find out that he’s hungry for more than just blood

You should’ve known that something was wrong when your phone went off at nearly 3 in the morning. No one ever called you that late, not even Peter. Your best friend was more likely to slip through your window if he needed something. Groggy with fatigue, it took you a moment to realize that you had not plugged your phone up before going to sleep like you thought, and that it was instead in your sheets somewhere.

“Hello?” you finally grumbled, eyes still closed as you wondered just who in the world was calling you.

“Kid, it’s Tony. Is Peter with you?”

You were suddenly wide awake, blinking your eyes open as you forced yourself to sit up.

“No…? I thought… Isn’t he on a mission?”

Worry began to bleed into your heart, and it only increased at Tony’s words.

“He was, yeah.”

You threw the covers off of you, hurriedly sliding out of bed as you searched for some shoes.

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

The older man sighed, and you noted that his voice shook a little bit. You froze, heart dropping into your stomach as the severity of whatever was going on registered. Tony Stark was worried.

“He was supposed to check in 2 days ago. He was supposed to be back today. Neither of those things have happened.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Your pitch had risen, and you didn’t bother to mask your fear.

“I don’t have much time to explain. Capsicle and Robocop are coming with me to see if we can find him. We’re leaving shortly, but my coordinates show that he’s still in Bulgaria. That’s where we sent him. We just haven’t heard a word from him and can’t seem to get in touch with him.”

You could hear things going on in the background, and you figured that they were only moments away from leaving. Your stomach churned, and you felt like you might be sick. If Tony Stark with all of his gadgets and resources couldn’t get ahold of Peter, then something was really wrong.

“Look, I have to go. If he shows up there, let us know immediately.”

He hung up before you had the chance to tell him that you were coming straight to the compound. You stared at your phone for a bit, brows drawn together as you processed this news. You hadn’t thought anything of it when you hadn’t heard from Peter in a few days. He wasn’t a kid anymore, had graduated college alongside you only last year, so his presence on the team was needed a lot more. His missions were less juvenile, so losing touch for a week at a time was nothing new.

As you threw on a coat to combat the biting New York air, you tried not to dwell on the worst. It couldn’t be helped though, and as soon as you stepped into your apartment hallway, shoulder grazing your door, tears filled your eyes. If Tony could see where Peter currently was...and he wasn’t able to get in touch with him...then that meant he was dead right? You shook your head, locking your door and tightening your fingers around your purse. There could be so many reasons for that. It didn’t mean he was dead.

The entire drive to upstate New York was a quiet one. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to fill the car with mind-numbing music to distract you. Your fingers were tight on the wheel, legs so tense that when you finally arrived at the compound, they actually hurt when you stepped out of the car. You leaned your back against the vehicle, the warmth seeping through your coat, and you released an unsteady breath.

You had known Peter since high school, easily finding a place with him and Ned, and eventually, MJ too. When Ned and MJ took their college education elsewhere, you had remained. You told yourself it was to save money, a partial truth, but you never wanted to admit that it was also to stay by Peter’s side. You couldn’t imagine being away from him. It was pathetic really, but Peter was more than some guy you loved. He was your best friend.

“I had a feeling you’d show up here.”

The familiar voice reached your ears, and you looked up at Wanda just as she floated down next to you. Her auburn hair was ruffled with a gentle breeze, her eyes sympathetic as she reached out to pull you into her side.

“They will find him,” she assured you.

You could hear Sam on the phone as soon as she guided you inside of the compound, and he sent you a tense smile and wave, which you returned. You could faintly hear other voices as well, and you figured that everyone who stayed back was wrapped up in doing whatever they could to get in contact with Peter. You felt helpless.

“What can I do?” you asked Wanda, already knowing the answer.

“Just be here,” she told you, making you sigh.

“Wanda…”

You gave her a reproachful look, and she smiled at you.

“We know you’re worried just like the rest of us, probably even more than the rest of us,” you swallowed at her knowing look. “...but everything will be okay. The last thing we need is you putting yourself in harm’s way or bursting a blood vessel.”

You nodded, heeding her words. You made your way to your room with a heavy heart. You were far from being a member of the team, you could barely throw a proper punch, but seeing as you came over so often with Peter, sometimes in the dead of night, Tony decided to have you a room put in. Right next to Peter’s.

One of his old college sweatshirts was on your desk, still there from the last time you borrowed it, and without thinking, you got undressed and put it on. It still smelled like him, and with the scent of your best friend filling your nose, you laid down and sought out sleep.

The next day brought bad news. They had found Peter’s suit, but no Peter. It explained his stationary location and their lack of success with getting in touch with him. You had just stepped into the door of the room when Tony told them, his virtual face wracked with fear and worry, something you weren’t used to seeing.

You could tell that you weren’t meant to hear the news just yet by the way Nat’s eyes widened when she finally noticed you. The rest of the team turned as she hurriedly rose, making her way to you just as your face crumbled.

“Y/N-.”

“Wh-what does that mean? What does he mean?”

Tony’s voice faded as she pulled you from the room, and you almost tripped over your feet as your legs shook.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s going to be okay,” she said, attempting to calm you.

“What does he mean by that? Why doesn’t he have his suit- where is he?”

You were in your room now, and she shushed you as she guided you to your bed. You sat down, staring at your feet as your brain whirled. You hadn’t realized how fast your heart was beating, and your whole body shook as you fought to process this news.

“I don’t understand,” you mumbled, more to yourself than the spy before you.

She came into your vision as she knelt before you, her hands taking yours.

“Me neither,” she mumbled.

You fingered Peter’s shirt. You were still wearing it, just with some jeans, and Nat observed the movement.

“How long?” she quietly asked.

She didn’t need to elaborate. You knew what she was asking.

“Since…” you shrugged, releasing a heavy breath. “...practically since forever.”

“Does he know?”

You sadly shook your head. She pursed her lips, red hair framing her face as she studied you.

“We’re going to find him, and when we do, you can tell him. Okay?”

You nodded.

“Okay,” you quietly replied.

Nat didn’t stay for long, and you guessed that she needed to get back to the team to plan the best course of action. You barely left your room for the rest of the day, not having much of an appetite nor energy for anything. It was late in the evening when you found yourself making your way to Peter’s room. You lost count of how many times you slept in here, but Peter was usually with you, and if not, he at least showed up at some point. You liked waking up to the sound of his soft snores.

It felt weird with him gone, even weirder when you accounted for the fact that you didn’t know when he’d be back. If he’d be back. Your face almost crumbled at the thought, and you laid down, grabbing one of his pillows and hugging it to your chest, unable to stop the tears that spilled over, no matter how much you tried.

You slept in his room for days, and for days there was still no sign of him. The team was beyond worried now. You knew it, no matter how much they tried to portray otherwise. They were getting restless and scared. You couldn’t exactly say that you were any different though.

Sleep was hard to find, and even when you did, you found yourself tossing and turning throughout the night. Every time you woke up, you kept hoping that he’d be there, that you’d hear his voice. You were met with a dark empty room each time though, and it always broke your heart. After Peter had been missing for 8 days, Wanda finally came to you.

“I think you should go home,” she told you.

You were sitting cross legged on Peter’s bed, and she sat before you, hands in her lap with her feet on the floor. You frowned at her, wondering if you had overstayed your welcome, but she continued.

“It’s not that we don’t want you here, because you know we love having you around, but… You do not look good, Y/N.”

You squirmed under her concerned stare, clearing your throat.

“I’m fine,” you quietly argued.

“You’re not, and that’s okay. You just...you look exhausted and worried, and you’ve lost weight. A considerable amount in such a short time. What would Peter think if he came back right now and saw that you weren’t properly taking care of yourself?” she wondered.

Guilt flooded you, and you reluctantly nodded.

“I know that being here brings you some comfort, but I don’t think it’s worth the toll it’s taking on you.”

Your shoulders sagged, and you reluctantly admitted that she was right. You wanted to be near Peter in any way you could, but constantly waiting and listening out for any news was stressing you out.

“Go home. Sleep in your own bed. Get some rest. You can always come back,” she said.

“Okay.”

So, you did. You took a shower as soon as you made it back to your apartment, finding another one of Peter’s shirts he’d left. You forced yourself to at least eat something of substance, and when you had all you could take, you made a cup of tea. You had tried to watch tv, but funnily enough, the news was reporting on a crime that Spider-Man’s had helped solve months ago. Unable to stomach it, you turned the tv off and opted for bed.

Strangely enough, you were able to sleep better in your own bed. It happened quickly, and you didn’t toss or turn much. The first time you floated back to consciousness, it must have been around 3 in the morning. It was the longest you’d slept in days, and you knew that you’d be drifting back soon. However, you faintly noted that goosebumps had erupted over your skin, like you were cold.

Considering it was cold outside, you kept your heater blasting.

You blinked, staring at your window. It was closed, but the curtains were parted, and you could see that it was snowing outside. For the first time in days, a small smile tugged at your lips, and with a sigh, you rolled over. A dark figure was standing beside your bed, and the scream that you let out echoed through the apartment, filled with terror.

You fought back against them as they reached for you, struggling to get away and move further back on the bed. Their hands were cool, like they’d been outside for a while with no gloves. You were sitting up, pushing against them when they reached over and flicked on your lamp. When light flooded the room, your eyes widened.

Peter stood before you, dressed casually in dark clothes and looking completely unharmed. You sharply inhaled, all of your breath leaving you as your lips parted, eyes welling with tears. You blinked a few times, feeling like you might have been dreaming, but Peter remained. You reached out to him with shaking hands, and your vision had started to blur.

“Hey, breathe. Breathe, Y/N,” he softly ordered, brows furrowed.

You did as he said, and your chest burned as you moved closer. You slid off of the bed, moving to stand up, but your legs were unsteady. Peter caught you just as you fell into his arms, wrapping your own around him. You buried your face into his chest, your tears wetting his shirt, and he enveloped you in his arms as he shushed you.

You were shaking so much, and you just couldn’t stop. You couldn’t believe that he was here, and he looked perfectly fine. You sobbed into his chest, and you felt him tighten his arms around you. You clung to him, maneuvering to bury your face into the crook of his neck, feeling guilty about his shirt. You could feel him do the same, his nose brushing against your skin, and he took a long inhale, breathing you in.

“You’re okay,” you blubbered.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m okay,” he whispered.

You pulled away from him, roaming your eyes over him before meeting his own eyes.

“Where...where have you been? Everyone is looking for you,” you softly told him.

“I know,” he replied, looking sheepish.

“We have to call Tony,” you said, reaching for your phone.

Peter stopped you before you could, his hand tight on your wrist, and you found yourself wincing at his harsh grip. You looked at him with a frown, heart skipping a beat at his sudden dark countenance. He swallowed, and your eyes were briefly drawn to the subtle movement in his throat before he eventually let you go.

“I can’t...I can’t go back,” he told you, shaking his head.

Your eyes widened at him, and confusion filled you. What?

“What are...what are you talking about? Everyone is worried sick, more worried than I’ve ever seen them. Peter, they have no idea where you are or if you’re even okay! We should at least tell them-.”

You swallowed the rest of your words as you noticed that he made to leave.

“I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come here-.”

“Wait, wait!”

You grabbed onto the back of his shirt. You weren’t any match for him, but you were thankful that he halted. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, your lips brushing his shoulder as you spoke.

“Stay. Please stay,” you whispered.

His shoulders heaved as he sighed, and you continued.

“I’m sorry, okay? We don’t...we don’t have to tell them anything. If you don’t want to go back that’s fine, but… I’ve been so worried.”

That last part was said so softly, it was a wonder he even heard you. He didn’t say anything, nor did he move for a while, but eventually he turned around, and you let your arms fall. When your eyes met his again, you watched the way they narrowed, forehead creasing just a bit. You didn’t understand why until he reached up to press his fingers to the skin beneath your eyes. You could see the disapproval in his eyes, and all you could offer was a shrug.

“I was so worried.”

Peter blinked, face falling before he pulled you into his arms again. You returned the hug and let your eyes fall closed, just basking in the feel of him. You could hear his heartbeat, so slow...and so faint, something that seemed impossible. You told yourself you were imagining it.

“You’ll stay, right?”

He threw you a small smile when you pulled back to look at him, and you watched the way his dark eyes ran over you, lingering on your neck a tad longer than the rest of you before his eyes met yours again.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

You smiled at him, pulling him towards your bed. You settled in, only just realizing how cold you had gotten, while Peter got in behind you. Your head hit the pillow just as he turned the light out, and you frowned when you noticed that he wasn’t completely laying down. He was on his side, facing you with his head propped up onto his hand.

“You’re not tired?”

His eyes trailed to your window, staring out into the night for a moment before he shook his head.

“No...not really.”

You chuckled.

“So you’re just going to watch me sleep?” you wondered.

He reached towards you with his other hand, brushing his fingers along your neck and collarbone, fingers cool against your warm skin. A shudder passed through you.

“I missed you,” was his only answer, and it made your heart soar.

You knew that he didn’t miss you like you missed him, but it made you happy to hear that nonetheless.

“I missed you too.”

He didn’t respond, and you closed your eyes, the feel of his fingers on your skin oddly soothing. He always made you nervous, but not tonight. You wondered if it was because you had gone without him for so long, unsure if he would ever return. Sleep was just within your reach, but something weighed on your mind that prevented you from grabbing hold of it.

“Why don’t you want to go back?”

Your voice was small in the otherwise quiet room, and when Peter didn’t answer right away, you peeled your eyes open. He had stopped touching you, fingers curling into the covers as his jaw clenched.

“They won’t want me back.”

You frowned, forcing yourself to sit up. You blinked at him a few times, lips parting as you processed what that meant. Why wouldn’t they want him back? Peter was part of the team, one of the most loved members of the team. Said team was practically sick with worry, had been for over a week. Despite the fact that Peter was right in front of you and seemingly safe and sound, worry began to take hold again.

“Why wouldn’t they want you back?”

Your best friend didn’t answer you, and your worry grew, heartbeat picking up. Peter’s eyes were on you now as he sat up too, so focused and intense.

“What happened on your mission, Peter? What happened in Bulgaria?”

Again, Peter didn’t respond, but the minute you moved closer to him, he snatched your arm. Startled, you almost fell over, but his fingers curled around your wrist and pulled you closer, guiding the palm of your hand right to his chest.

Where his heart was.

Again, like before, you noted that his heartbeat was so slow. And even fainter. It was almost nonexistent, and your brows crinkled. You had felt and heard his heartbeat many times before since he’d become Spider-Man, and you knew that this was no effect of the spider bite. You had a hard time wrapping your mind around what you were feeling, and you looked at him again.

“I have...I have to tell you something…”

You fought to keep your worry at bay, noting the way Peter’s voice shook.

“I may even have to show you...but you have to promise me…”

His hand tightened on your wrist, and he released a shaky breath.

“...promise me that you won’t be scared.”

Scared of Peter? He was your best friend, and you couldn’t ever imagine being afraid of him. Still, you felt like he needed this so you nodded.

“Okay.”

Peter’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up, and your heart lurched in a mild panic before you realized why. The sun shone through your window, bathing your room in the warm rays, and you swallowed as you wondered where he could’ve gone.

“I’m right here.”

You snapped your head up to find him standing in the hall, just outside of your doorway. He was out of the sun’s reach, and you slid out of bed to join him. He was watching you like he couldn’t anticipate your next move, and you sent him a smile to reassure him.

“Do you...need anything…?”

You didn’t come right out and say it, but you both knew what you were asking. He studied you for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. I...ate before I came here last night,” he told you.

You nodded and folded your arms over your chest with a long sigh. You could feel his eyes on you as you looked away.

“Look, Peter...I know you're not going to like what I have to say, but…”

You chanced a glance at him and found his dark eyes narrowed at you.

“I think you need to tell Tony.”

He briefly closed his eyes before letting them fall to the ground, hands shoved in his pockets.

“If anyone can help you, he can.”

Peter scoffed, a humorless sound.

“Help me with what? It’s not like he can fix this, Y/N. This goes past Tony Stark and all of his intellect,” he practically spat, frustration coloring his tone. “This is what I am now.”

You grabbed his hands, squeezing them as you moved closer.

“I know, I know. I just meant...maybe he can help you safely get what you need.”

His eyes met yours, albeit reluctantly.

“...and maybe he can help you control your appetite better. That way...that way you won’t hurt anyone else,” you quietly finished, recalling everything he’d told you.

Guilt passed through Peter’s features at the reminder of what he’d done. He closed his eyes, practically squeezing them shut as his shoulders heaved, a small sigh escaping him.

“Maybe...you’re right,” he hesitantly admitted.

You could see the war going on within him when he opened his eyes, conflict and guilt and self-loathing all passing over his face.

“Hey.”

He looked at you.

“You’re still you. You just...your diet’s a little different now, that’s all.”

He cracked a smile, a small chuckle leaving him, and you joined him.

“When the sun goes down, we’ll go to the compound, and...and everything will be okay,” you promised him.

He nodded, and hours later, when the sun was safely behind the horizon, that was what you did. You drove. Peter was still wary of his new strength, strength that far surpassed what he had before. Your wrist was still sore from when he’d grabbed you last night, but you didn’t want him to feel any worse than he already did.

Having called Tony on the way, he was waiting outside when you arrived. As per requested, he was the only one. You didn’t want Peter to get overwhelmed. You weren’t exactly sure of what he was capable of now, neither one of you really were, and you didn’t want to stress him out.

Tony had pulled him into a hug the minute he reached him, and your heart clenched for many reasons. You hoped that you’d made the right decision. Tony loved Peter. He’d help him, right? When he pulled away, the bearded man’s eyes flickered between the two of you with a frown.

“So you’re going to tell me what the hell this is all about?”

Before you could respond, Peter moved to pull him inside.

“It’s a long story, Mr. Stark…”

His voice trailed off as they went inside, and with a small sigh, you eventually followed. Neither one of them were present, and you figured that they went to the lab. You had a feeling that everyone else was there too, or at least not far off. They’d been worried sick and now Peter was back, seemingly unharmed. Of course they’d be concerned and curious.

Wanda was the only one who greeted you, and her eyes were wide as they met yours. They were a bit accusatory, even fearful, and you pursed your lips. She probably didn’t mean to, but it was easy to guess that she’d been inside of Peter’s head. She knew, and there was no telling what she saw.

“Y/N…?”

You shook your head.

“He’s still him, Wanda. Okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue as you moved past her to go to your room. You didn’t see anyone else the rest of the night, and you knew that they were all caught up with Peter. Figuring out how this happened, running tests, coming up with the best course of action. You were in and out of sleep when you heard Peter come into your room in the early hours of the morning.

He wrapped his arms around you as he slid in behind you, and even though he wasn’t as warm as he used to be, the familiarity of it all immediately relaxed you. You felt him bury his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath as he breathed you in, fingers brushing over the skin of your arms.

“Everything okay?” you mumbled, referring to Tony and the rest of the team.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “He wants me to drink pig’s blood, but yeah. Everything’s okay.”

You chuckled at that, sleep finding you once more as you smiled at Peter’s joke. However, it was the next day when you discovered that he hadn’t been joking at all.

“You’re serious?”

Peter nodded with a frown, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the counter.

“He wants to start weaning me off of human blood and start transitioning to animal blood,” he grumbled.

You noted that he wasn’t happy about that, and your curiosity got the better of you.

“Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily, no,” he sighed. “He thinks it’ll help me. That maybe I’ll...crave human blood less and it’ll lower my chances of losing control around someone.”

You blinked, wondering if you agreed with that.

“I mean, he doesn’t exactly know. This is all just trial and error, right now, because probably for the first time in Mr. Stark’s life, he’s stumped,” Peter said with a shrug. “...but it’s worth a shot.”

You felt like there was more to it, like he wanted to say something else.

“He doesn’t know that I already tried that,” he whispered.

You leaned against the opposite counter, watching as his frown deepened, eyes troubled.

“When I woke up...I felt like I had swallowed fire,” he murmured. “My teeth hurt, my throat burned, and my mind was going a mile a minute. I felt like I was losing it.”

He sounded angry as he glared at the floor.

“The only thing that even smelled slightly appealing was…”

He trailed off, shaking his head, a light chuckle leaving him.

“I must have killed at least 100 animals. Anything I could get my hands on… It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch, only 1,000 times worse. It wasn’t until...it wasn’t until I came across those hikers…”

He swallowed his words, letting his face fall into his hands. You neared him, resting your hand on his arm.

“It was the first time I’d felt okay in days. I could finally freaking think,” he said through clenched teeth, letting his hands fall. “There I was...covered in blood...surrounded by bodies of innocent people...and I was finally at peace.”

You pulled him into a hug as he recounted what he’d already told you. You knew that Peter wouldn’t ever forget that moment, but God, you wanted him to. That wasn’t who he was, you knew it, and you wanted him to know it too. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, nose brushing over the skin, and his hands rested on your waist.

Your conversation with Nat weighed on your heart. Like she’d said, Peter was back, and you could finally tell him, but it didn’t seem appropriate. The man had been attacked and turned into something you thought only existed in books. This was a hard time for him, and it seemed silly to drop one more thing onto him, one more thing that could definitely wait.

“I wouldn’t get too close to him if I were you, Y/N. He might mistake you for a quarter pounder.”

You pulled away just as Bucky’s deep chuckle reached your ears, and you turned to see both him and Sam enter the kitchen. Sam seemed pleased with his little joke.

“You’re not funny,” you told him, completely unamused.

“It’s a little funny,” Bucky disagreed, and you huffed.

You felt Peter pull away, and by the time you looked over your shoulder, he was gone.

“Seriously?”

You threw them an incredulous look, and Sam shrugged.

“Look, we’ve got to find some humor in this okay? The kid’s got fangs and he lives off of blood now,” Sam said like it was the most absurd thing in the world.

Considering that you all were friends with literal Gods and even a woman who controlled the weather, you were inclined to disagree.

“This is hard for him, okay?”

You weren’t sure if they knew the full extent of what he’d done, but you heard Sam sigh, and Bucky at least looked a little sheepish.

“I’m sure he’ll joke about it when he’s ready, but please let him do it in his own time. His whole life has changed...again.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the club,” Bucky sighed.

You rolled your eyes and turned away with a scoff.

“What’d I say?” you heard Bucky ask, but you were already making your way to Peter’s room.

You were surprised that he told you to come in when you knocked, and you slowly stepped inside. He was on his bed, hand behind his head as he scrolled through his phone.

“You okay?”

He let his hand fall, greeting you with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. They don’t mean any harm, so I’m not going to let it get to me,” he replied, reaching for you.

You joined him on the bed, laying your head on his shoulder as he told F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn on the tv.

“Want to watch a movie with me? As silly as it seems, all I could think about was curling up with you and watching a movie the whole time I was away,” he confessed.

Your heart fluttered, sure he could hear it, but he didn’t comment on it. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

His hand tightened on your hip as you figured out what movie to put on.

Every day, Peter went to the lab with Tony and Bruce, and every time he returned, he always seemed irritated. You tried not to comment on the harshness of his eyes and tautness of his jaw, but eventually, you had to express your concern.

“It’s nothing,” he told you one day. “They just keep treating me like some science experiment gone wrong.”

He played it off like no big deal, but you could tell that he was genuinely bothered.

“...and its this stupid diet or whatever you can even call it! It’s not working. It’s not satisfying or fulfilling, at all. I can’t taste a damn thing, I’m just drinking to get full? If that’s what you can even call it. It does absolutely nothing to satisfy me or quell this desire…”

He trailed off at your light chuckle.

“Alright, Edward Cullen.”

He threw you a hard look, and you swallowed your laughs. While he was finally making jokes about the situation himself now, you realized that now was not the time.

“Sorry…”

He heaved a long sigh, turning to stare out of the window.

“You wanna get out of here?” he suddenly asked.

You blinked at him.

“Now?”

He glanced at the clock, and so did you. It was almost 2 in the morning.

“I can’t think of a better time,” he replied.

You chewed on your lip.

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged. “Just for a little bit…”

He hadn’t left the compound in weeks, Tony far too paranoid, and you could see how much he needed this.

“Okay.”

That was how 40 minutes later, you found your car parked near a small pond while you and Peter leaned against it, staring at the full moon. Neither one of you had said anything since you left, and you guessed that Peter was in his thoughts. You couldn’t blame him.

“You know, if I’d been bitten by a werewolf, we’d be having a totally different night, right now.”

You barked a laugh, and he joined you.

“If you were bitten by a werewolf, I’d be trying to play fetch with you,” you replied.

He chuckled again, and the two of you fell into another easy silence. Your eyes narrowed a bit as something weighed on your mind, and you suddenly crossed your arms over your chest.

“Why won’t Tony let you have any human blood? I mean, blood banks exist…”

Peter sighed, a frustrated sound, and you turned to look at him. The cool nightly breeze blew his dark hair around his face, and his jaw clenched.

“He thinks it’ll make me crave it more. Kind of like an addict, you know?”

You shook your head, disagreeing with that.

“...but...it’s not. This is part of your DNA, now, is it not? He shouldn’t be looking at it like a drug but instead like...food. It’s what you need to survive, now,” you explained.

“You’re right...but that’s blood I’d be taking away from people who need it. Besides, it’d be pretty messed up of me to…‘convince’ some stranger to let me drink from them and then alter their memory of the whole thing,” he mumbled.

“That’s right. You did tell me you can do that, now,” you mused.

“I’m pretty sure it’ll come in handy during missions. You know, if I ever go on one again,” he complained.

Your heart hurt for Peter. His entire life had been turned on its head again. He couldn’t go on missions, couldn’t even see his aunt, and on top of it all, he couldn’t even satisfy the craving his body had for what it actually needed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him again. You were positive he noticed before, but this time he commented on it.

“What?”

You glanced away from him, heart speeding up a bit as you wrung your hands together.

“What about me?”

He didn’t respond right away, and when you looked at him again, his eyes were on you. They were narrowed, hard, but you could see the spark of something in them that gave you hope that maybe this wasn’t such a horrible idea after all. Peter’s lips parted, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight before he snapped his mouth shut. He cleared his throat.

“You...you would do that?”

“Of course,” you said with a frown, turning your body completely to face him. “This is what you need, and you’re my best friend, and I’m willing. So you don’t have to let your morals get in the way.”

Peter stared at you for what seemed like a long time, eyes roaming over every inch of you. You watched as he swallowed, the conflict written all over his face. You could see that he was scared, afraid that he’d hurt you, but you could also see the fire in his eyes, the desire to take you up on your offer.

“Worst case scenario-.”

“You die?”

You rolled your eyes at him, stepping closer.

“You won’t let me die, Peter. We both know it,” you whispered, pushing your sleeve up and holding your arm out.

Peter’s dark eyes snapped to the bared skin, no doubt tracing the veins that you couldn’t see. Hesitantly, he grabbed your wrist, taking a deep breath before slowly lifting your arm as he bent his head. His breath, like everything else about him now, was cool against your skin. You watched as he closed his eyes, dark lashes contrasting against his fair skin, before opening his mouth. You barely got a glimpse of his sharp canines in all of their glory before they were sinking into your arm.

The reaction from you both was instantaneous.

A loud gasp escaped you, but not from pain. No. Your body heated up like never before, blood on fire as Peter let out an equally loud groan. An addicting sense of euphoria descended over you, and you felt your legs shaking, lashes fluttering as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Sensing this, Peter reached out with his free hand and tangled it within your hair, pulling you closer until your head leaned against his shoulder.

You could feel him moving forward, and he didn’t stop until your back was against your car. His hand tightened in your hair, almost painfully, but all you let out was a moan, your breath choppy and lips trembling as he pressed his leg in between yours. Your free hand clutched his jacket, attempting to pull him closer, and a low moan escaped his own throat as he pushed his thigh more firmly against your now heated core.

You faintly noted that this was a lot more erotic than you anticipated, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. He was still pressing your head to his shoulder, and your lips brushed the fabric of his jacket as you murmured his name.

“Peter...Peter…”

You couldn’t tell if you were asking him to stop or not, but considering this was the best high you’d ever been on, you concluded that you were not. Suddenly, all too soon, Peter practically ripped himself away from you, and you would’ve fallen to the ground if he hadn’t caught you. Your chest was heaving, so was his, and when you peeled your eyes open, his own wide ones were focused on you.

“Shit,” he cursed, looking like he was seconds away from getting in trouble. “Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn’t have done that. Mr. Stark is going to kill me…”

“Hey...it’s okay,” you panted, weakly reaching up to brush a dark strand out of his face. “I’m okay. How do you feel?”

He seemed stumped by the question, and he suddenly blinked, brows drawn together as he stared down at you. His lips were stained with your blood.

“I...haven’t felt this satisfied in weeks,” he whispered, looking at you strangely.

You weakly chuckled, eyes fluttering closed.

“Good.”

You had only been seconds away from falling when he caught you, and he finally straightened as he lifted you into his arms. You could feel yourself on the verge of sleep...or was it the verge of death? Either way, you were happy that Peter was happy. He gently deposited you into the passenger’s seat, strapping you into place. Your head lolled as he shut the door, facing him as he settled behind the wheel.

You could feel his eyes on you, and with difficulty, you opened yours again. He was staring at you with that look again, and you were sure he thought you crazy for putting your life in danger like that. The car was quiet, just the sound of your shallow breathing could be heard, and you thought to yourself that you kind of wanted to tell him you loved him. However, before you could, Peter leaned over and pressed his blood-stained lips to yours.

It was quick and soft, just the barest of touches, but it made your eyes widen nonetheless. You stared at him as he sat back and started the car, and you wanted to keep staring at him, wanted to ask him what the hell was that, but sleep finally got to you before you could.

It was days before you finally discussed what had happened, and that was only because it was days before Peter needed to “feed” again.

“I think I can go longer without when it’s human blood...because it’s what actually satisfies me. What my body needs,” he murmured one night while you were watching a movie you’d both seen a million times.

“That’s a good thing. Surely Tony will see that this is the best thing to do. This is what will keep you in control and allow you to go on missions again...see your aunt May…”

You had decided to keep what happened between the two of you, but you didn’t exactly feel right about it. Peter sighed and shook his head.

“No. I think he’d send me away,” he quietly told you.

You quickly moved your head to look up at him, your cheek on his chest as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s been doing research, trying to find others like me. I think he has. I overheard him talking to the captain and Sam one day. He’s thinking about sending me somewhere I can learn to control my thirst and utilize my new…abilities or whatever,” he grumbled.

You fully sat up now, looking down at him with a stricken expression. His eyes finally moved away from the screen, and he smiled at you, rubbing your back in a soothing manner.

“I’m not going to let him send me away, Y/N, but he’ll definitely try if we tell him what happened.”

You nodded, forcing your heart to slow before you laid back down. Peter’s hand was still on your back, tracing patterns into your, well, his shirt. You listened to his slow heartbeat, the organ pumping what was left of your blood through his body. Your lashes fluttered when he dragged his fingers up to your neck, the appendages playing with the hair there. You found yourself humming when he tightened his hold there, and you looked up in confusion, prepared to ask him what he was doing when his other hand gripped your arm, and he pulled you up.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was nothing like the first one. You gasped against his mouth, and he wasted no time before taking the opportunity to taste the inside of yours. Peter moaned into the kiss, circling both arms around you now as he rolled the both of you over. He settled himself between your parted legs, and you sharply inhaled at the bulge you felt there.

Peter’s hand traveled to your neck again, grasping the hair at the nape, holding you in place as he dragged his mouth down. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he bit you, throwing your hands out to grasp anything you could. Your right hand hit the lamp on the nightstand, and it fell to the floor with a soft crash. Peter’s other hand pressed into your back, forcing you to arch your chest into his.

His hips were rolling into yours, his clothed member pressing against the most sensitive part of you so deliciously. You let out a soft moan, one hand clawing at his shirt, pushing the fabric up to drag your nails along his back. Peter had you completely pinned in between him and the mattress, every curve of his hips sending pleasure through you.

“Peter,” you moaned, reaching up to drag your hand along the headboard. “Fuck, Peter.”

You could feel your blood crawling past your neck, staining his sheets, but he didn’t seem to care. The bed shook a bit from his movements, and you hooked one leg on his waist as he continued to grind into you. You could feel yourself fading, and you welcomed it, and before you could, one particularly slow roll of his hips sent you over the edge.

You were a moaning mess as you came beneath him, his teeth still embedded in your neck. Your whole body shook, legs practically vibrating as they fell around him, chest heaving as he finally pulled away. He licked at your neck, and your arms fell to the bed, soft murmurs leaving your lips to which Peter chuckled at. He brushed his thumb over your lip before leaning back down, lips grazing your ear.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You did, he was, and he greeted you with a kiss, further filling you with confusion as you wondered just what you were. You didn’t want to ruin it, didn’t want to break the spell by trying to make him define this. You simply wanted to enjoy whatever this was, and enjoy it you did.

Every few days or so, you found yourself squirming beneath Peter one way or another. Sometimes he simply pressed kisses along your neck as he rolled his hips into yours, sometimes his teeth were in you, and sometimes his fingers were in you, the sound of it so loud as he thrust them in and out of your fluttering core. The rest of the team was none the wiser as you both satisfied each other in more ways than one. It was usually in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep, and Peter was wide awake.

“Ngh, Peter,” you panted, fingers twisted into his dark locks.

You were completely naked before him, a first, as he swiped his tongue over your wet folds, another first. His own fingers were pressed into your thighs, holding them down in a way that hurt so good. The cool air hit the bite mark on the inside of your left thigh, and you hissed as Peter slid his tongue past your slick walls, tasting every inch of you that he could.

A thin layer of sweat covered your frame, and you realized that you lost track of how long Peter had been alternating between tasting your blood and tasting your lips. His mouth completely covered you, and you shuddered when he sucked on your little bundle of nerves, sharp teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

You could feel your...3rd? 4th? Or was it the 5th climax of the night that you felt approaching? You were so tired, but Peter didn’t seem to have gotten his fill of you, and his lips kissed along your mound before traveling to the space in the crease of your thigh before he swiped his tongue over your thigh itself, the unmarked one. It was dark in the room, and when Peter glanced up at you, dark promises in his eyes, you noted that they almost seemed to glow in the dark, like that of a feline.

He wasted no time before sinking his teeth into your skin again, and you pressed your hand to your mouth to keep from making too much noise. You knew that he’d ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y to soundproof the room, but it was a force of habit by now. Your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, and that was how you fell asleep that night, with Peter’s face in between your legs, drinking from you in any way he saw fit.

“Look who decided to grace us with her presence,” Bucky sarcastically greeted as you walked into the kitchen the next morning.

Steve threw you a sheepish smile, visibly sorry on Bucky’s behalf for his behavior.

“Cut it out, Buck.”

“I’m just acknowledging that the princess has been holed up in her room more often than not as of late. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you went home, but I noticed that you’re still eating my cereal, the only other person who eats the kind I like, so…”

You rolled your eyes as he trailed off, and he reached out to pull on your shirt as you neared.

“What’s with the turtleneck, squirt? I know it’s freezing outside, but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s 77 degrees in here.”

You tensed at his words, and you ignored the way Steve eyed you over his mug.

“I just think I’m coming down with something is all. I’m a little chillier than usual today,” you lied.

He simply hummed, and that was when you finally noticed his attire. Steve too.

“Are you guys going on a mission?”

“You’d know the answer to that if you actually left your room once in a while,” Bucky grumbled, and Steve lightly shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, the whole team’s heading out. Well...except…” Steve trailed off, and you nodded. “...but Nat and Sam are supposed to be returning from their assignment today, so they’ll be back later.”

You nodded at Steve’s words, not quite liking the way that he was studying you. You hurriedly poured your own cup of coffee, quietly telling them to “be safe” before moving to get out of Steve’s watchful eye.

Hours later found you and Peter on the couch, hardly paying any attention to the movie before you. You had the compound to yourselves, something you looked forward to, but Peter had other ideas than that of what you were thinking.

“You want to...leave?”

You frowned at him, unsure that you heard him right. Peter was facing you with his elbow on the back of the couch, propping his head up as his other hand traced your collarbone.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Mr. Stark...I think he’s getting serious about sending me away for a while. I think he suspects us, but I’m not sure.”

You mulled over his suggestion, unsure of how you felt about it.

“They couldn’t even find me last time. I’d make sure they’d never find us,” he told you.

“I...I don’t know. I mean, I love you, but I’d miss everyone else,” you replied.

When you looked to him, he looked surprised, and his lips parted as he blinked at you.

“...what?”

Your brows drew together.

“What?”

He scooted closer, a slow grin forming on his pink lips.

“You love me?”

You scoffed at him.

“Of course. Peter, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” you finally confessed.

You thought that it would’ve been obvious by now, but Peter just looked as if you told him he’d won a million dollars. Before you could register it, he reached out to pull you into a kiss. It was passionate and full of yearning...and hungry. You wrapped your arms around his neck and moved closer, Peter’s hand pressing into the small of your back. His lips trailed from your own down to your jaw, pressing kisses there and to your neck. You’d changed shirts as soon as everyone had left.

You knew what he wanted, what he needed, and you welcomed it as he pressed his teeth into your skin. A breathy moan climbed out of your throat as he laid you down. Your heart was going haywire in your chest, the realization that Peter returned your feelings finally hitting you. His hands ran over you, brushing over your breasts and down your sides before he hooked them underneath your thighs.

He pressed his bloody lips to your décolletage, nipping at the skin there before they grazed the swell of your breasts. He bit into the flesh that spilled over the top of your shirt, and you trembled beneath him, a loud moan escaping you. He growled into your skin, fingers pressing into your thighs almost painfully. You weren’t sure how long you remained beneath him, lashes fluttering and lips parted as ecstasy clouded your mind, but eventually, you felt yourself fading in a way you had never felt before.

Your vision blurred, and you could feel your heart starting to slow.

“Peter,” you worriedly murmured.

He seemed preoccupied with releasing himself from his jeans, fingers brushing over you as he reached underneath your skirt. You opened your mouth to protest, but all that came out was a choked sound, the sound transforming into a breathy gasp when he thrust into you.

“Peter,” you weakly called.

You could feel yourself fading fast, and Peter’s own breath was harsh as he drank from you, snapping his hips into yours with every thrust. You could faintly hear a door opening, and you wanted to warn him, but you could hardly move, let alone speak. Darkness creeped along the edge of your vision, and the last thing you heard before going under was a feminine scream.

You knew that you were in the infirmary before you even opened your eyes. The steady beep of the monitor next to you told you that whatever condition you had been in was pretty serious. You struggled to open them, but when your eyes finally peeled open, you noticed that the room was empty.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you’re awake,�� F.R.I.D.A.Y noted. “I will inform Mr. Stark immediately.”

You cringed, squeezing your eyes shut at the mention of the last superhero you wanted to see. You just knew that you were going to get an earful, and you didn’t really care to hear it. You just wanted to know where Peter was and if he was okay.

Tony burst through the doors a lot sooner than you would have liked, and you avoided his eye. He didn’t say anything, and you knew that he was angry, because when did Tony Stark ever have absolutely nothing to say?

“Are you insane?” he finally wondered, and you sighed.

“Where’s Peter?”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he snapped, and you finally looked at him as he stomped towards your bed. “You could’ve died.”

You shrank underneath his cold stare and harsh words, glancing away.

“Do you get that, Y/N? When Nat and Sam got here…”

He trailed off, face reddening as he was no doubt recalling what he’d been told, probably what he’d even seen thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y. You watched as he swallowed, releasing a breath.

“Any later, and you would’ve been dead,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly told him. “I just wanted to help him.”

He heaved a long sigh, a tired and exasperated sound.

“I know you love him…”

You frowned at that, wondering if the whole damn team knew.

“...but he needs help from people who can help him. Help him to control himself, hone his new skills, help him so that he doesn’t kill you,” Tony finished, and you blinked back tears. “Go home and let us handle Peter. When the time is right, he’ll be able to see you again.”

The tears finally spilled over, and with a shake of his head, Tony left you. After a few more days in the infirmary, and several blood transfusions later, you did as Tony instructed. It felt strange to be back home after spending nearly 2 months at the compound with Peter. As you entered your room, sitting on your bed, you felt silly.

Tony had been right. You had almost died. You recalled the feel of your life literally slipping away as Peter drank from you, too lost in the taste and feel of you to notice that he was losing control. You had only wanted to help him, and you had ended up making things worse. Was Tony right to treat it like an addiction? Had you hindered Peter more than you helped him? You didn’t know. All you knew was that your actions almost led to your death at Peter’s hand, and that Tony’s actions had not.

You didn’t know where Peter was, but you had faith that he was alright. You hoped that Tony didn’t give him too hard of a time for what he’d done, but you knew that was unlikely. Nat, poor Nat, had literally walked in on him feeding from you and fucking you. There was no telling what the poor woman thought, and you hated the idea of them treating Peter like some wild animal that needed to be caged.

It was 3 nights later when you woke up to the feel of fingers ghosting over the side of your face as you slept. It took you a moment to register what was happening, but when you blinked your eyes open, you were surprised to come face to face with Peter as he stood over you.

“P-Peter?”

You struggled to sit up, and you rubbed your eyes, noting the way his own dark ones lingered on your neck.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re getting out of here. C’mon,” he said, reaching for you.

You frowned at him, and you watched his own face fall.

“I don’t...I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you honestly told him.

He frowned at you, and guilt tore through you for more reasons than one.

“Don’t listen to Mr. Stark-.”

“Maybe I should’ve. Maybe...maybe he knew what he was talking about,” you said, cutting him off.

His hand fell to his side, and his dark eyes narrowed on you.

“You’re afraid of me,” he murmured.

“No! No...not really-.”

He cut you off with an angry sigh, and you folded your arms over your chest.

“I almost died, Peter!”

You watched the conflict on his features, brows furrowing ever so slightly.

“...and you would’ve never forgiven yourself...and I feel like it’s my fault…”

Peter stood over you, dressed plainly but darkly, chocolate locks kissing his forehead as he stared at you. He didn’t look happy.

“So you’re taking his side,” he surmised.

“I just think you should hear him out,” you whispered. “We tried it our way...and look what happened.”

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. You sat there, and he stood there, both of you just staring at each other. You watched the way Peter’s jaw clenched, and he suddenly reached out to tangle his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he neared. You pressed your hands against his chest, but Peter forced his way onto your bed, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of you as he moved his mouth against yours.

“Mm, Peter,” you protested, turning your head away.

“They think I raped you, you know,” he quietly said, the loud sound of tearing fabric filling the room as he ripped your t-shirt straight down the middle.

Your eyes went wide at his words, and he chuckled, the corner of his lips quirking upwards into a smirk.

“Oh, yeah. They think I coerced you with my new abilities or even just flat out bit you and took you anyway I saw fit,” he whispered.

The irony of the situation was not lost on you, and you desperately fought against him. Your underwear was next, and you were no match against Peter’s newfound strength as he batted your hands away, moving to remove his own clothes.

“They don’t know that I had you squirming beneath me, purring and mewling like a desperate kitten.”

His voice was husky, thick with the desire to sink both his teeth and cock into you. He gripped your legs, separating them like it was nothing despite your efforts to keep them closed.

“They think that you’re bad for me…”

It was embarrassingly easy for him to slide into you, your velvet walls giving him a wet welcome. He sighed out as he pressed into you, dark eyes somehow darker.

“...they think I’ve formed some supernatural bond with you, some kind of blood tie…”

A choked moan slipped past your lips as he started to thrust into you, and Peter leaned down to press kisses to the corner of your mouth.

“...and they might be right, but it only cements what we both know.”

His hands pressed into the sheets beside your head, his labored breathing reaching your ears as he pulled back and snapped his hips into yours again and again. Your head was spinning from the way he dragged his cock through your clenching walls, completely unrelenting in his pace. While this technically wasn’t the first time he fucked you, it was the first time you were coherent enough to truly feel what was happening.

“Peter,” you murmured.

His nose brushed against yours with every thrust, and he released a shaky breath.

“...and what do we both know?”

There was a desperation in his eyes that took you by surprise, and your heart clenched.

“Say it...for me…”

You swallowed, lashes fluttering as he slowed down his thrusts.

“I’m yours.”

His own eyes fell closed at the admission, slowly sinking himself into you, basking in the feel of you wrapped around him.

“You gave me your blood...your body…”

He leaned down to trail kisses along your neck, rolling his hips against yours.

“...and you’ll give me your soul. You’re mine in every way a woman possibly can be. In every way a human can be,” he purred, sharp teeth grazing over your warm flesh.

His words made your stomach flutter, walls clenching around him, and just then, your phone buzzed. Like that first night, it was in your sheets somewhere, and the continuous buzzing told you that it was a phone call. You had a guess as to who it could be and what they wanted.

They were looking for Peter.

You looked to him when he paused, watching as his face darkened. He wrapped his hand around your noisy phone before throwing it at the wall, the device shattering upon impact. His dark eyes met yours again, and he kissed you, stealing your breath away as he moved within you again.

“They want to know if I’m with you...if you’re safe…”

You could feel him smiling against your lips, and your nails pressed into his sides, hanging on as he pushed his knees beneath your thighs, widening your legs and forcing a guttural moan from you.

“They think you’re in danger around me...and they’re probably right, but not the kind of danger they’re thinking of.”

One of his hands fisted itself into your hair, pulling your head back, baring your throat to him, and you knew what was coming.

“You don’t know how much I fought with myself that first night...how badly I wanted to tear into you anyway I could,” he whispered, voice strained. “You were all I thought about when I was attacked...when I changed…”

His hips sped up, the sound of slapping skin filling the room as he pistoned into you.

“For your sake, I’m glad you gave yourself to me, because I planned to take you from the very moment I stepped into your bedroom.”

His teeth pressed into your neck, breaking the skin, and your climax washed over you, euphoria clouding your mind and senses as Peter drank from you. His thrusts didn’t stop, and one hand pressed into the headboard above you, blood staining your pillow as the bed shook from the movement of his thrusts. You knew that Peter was far from done for the night, finally claiming what he felt was rightfully his.

tags: @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie @kellyn1604 @sherrybaby14 @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @sapphirescrolls @threeminutesoflife @searchforanotherway @mcudarklibrary @ksjksjkv @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

#dark!peter parker #dark peter parker #Dark!Peter #dark peter x reader #peter parker x reader #marvel fanfiction #Dark Fic

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purityoflust · 3 years

Text

The Smile [Jeff The Killer X Victim!Reader] [PART 2]

Jeff the killer X Victim!

WARNING: Yandere. That's it. Yandere.

I finally decided how I would write part 2 to The Smile, which is my first and most popular post on my account so far. Anyone new who has come to read this, check out my other posts as well if you'd like. I'll post more like this. I also have a Quotev account with more fanfictions.

9/12/20, 3/4 days after the top part: God, AFTER SO LONG, I FINALLY DID IT! Took me days! I'm so sorry if this is a bit lazy, it is a tiny bit rushed by the end but how would you guys feel about a detailed part 3? I'll probably go as far as a part 3 or part 4 for the final part.

The vibrations in your brain felt warm and numbing - almost like when you have a horrible migraine and you can finally feel it subsiding with your eyes closed and your fingers gently holding down onto your eyelids as if you're holding your eyes into place to prevent them from bursting out of your skull. Upon waking up you can feel cold air settling into your skin. You haven't been awake 3 minutes and you already know what you're resting on; an extremely uncomfortable metal table. You've only seen them in movies but this was real.

The sound of a singsong voice just slightly echoing through what seemed like a moderately empty room. You groaned softly as you turned your head to your right, very slowly opening your eyes. Your vision blurred in and out, which, you wanted to rub to clear it out but as you went to lift your wrists, you felt pressure around them.

Something was holding your arms down. This catches your attention, blinking multiple times while turning your head back up straight and attempting to sit up. You were hardly successful with that, struggling while grunting under your breath to pull your hands from under what seemed to be a thick rope. As you pulled harder, you sucked in your stomach out of habit before immediately coming to a halt and choking up in pain.

This whole time you were ignoring the voice that was singing eerily nearby, "You and me, always forever~"

The voice was of a male. Scratchy, shaky. Familiar.

Familiar.

You could feel a string of your heart pop out of place as your breath stopped. That's when you knew something was wrong, but it just doesn't add up. You gulp while your eyeballs vigorously glance around to see where the source was coming from, only to see a figure in a corner. It was doubled over and it was sitting down on a simple wooden chair. Doubling over a...table? An average male figure, nothing unique. Although, the clothing style was unusual. At least what was on the clothes. He wore a fluffy white hoodie and what seemed to be black pants and black-and-white converse. The problem wasn't the outfit, no. His hoodie was spotted and had patterns upon patterns of darkened and more fresh-looking blood splatter. He had long black hair down to his shoulders. And luckily, his back was facing you.

You were dumbfounded. How did you get here, why are you restrained, and why is there a blood covered man near you? Is that even blood? Maybe it's paint or a design? Some people do wear clothes that have different kinds of blood splatter designs on them. Hm. Or he's an actual murderer about to gut you like a fish.

You wanted to speak. You wanted to speak so badly but you just couldn't. As you parted your lips, your throat went dry while your gaze stayed locked onto the bloody male that sat before you. The singing made you shiver as you tried so hard to remember where you could have heard or seen him. Why can't you remember?

The male then turned around to look at you. His singing had come to a gentle halt. Your mouth closed as he did so, your throat going completely dry and your whole body feeling like an ice cube. You were greeted with cold blue eyes. They looked hungry and bloodthirsty, yet they held a warm affection as they looked into your traumatized eyes. It was almost comforting until you saw the rest of his face. His skin was snow white and his lips looked dry. That's when more attention is drawn to his lower jaw. He's smiling. Too big for a normal person.

That's when you realize. He has a large smile carved into his cheeks going from ear to ear while his own lips were curled within a smile as well. And that's when it hits you.

And it hits you hard.

The memories of hours prior start brutally crashing into you, flooding back into your numb brain. All of the realization replaced itself with agonizing anxiety, your heart starting to race at speeds that felt impossible. You could pass out, but something inside you kept you awake. Something about him and about this whole situation was making you dizzy. The male slowly stands and turns his body all the way to face you. He seemed deranged, yet, he had a very relaxed stance and body language.

Uncomfortable silence loomed in the air.

He kept staring at you before slowly taking steps forward. You watch him carefully as your head feels like it's spinning, which you could notice your vision blurring a little bit here and there. The silence is suddenly disturbed with the male speaking up again, choking up in giggles. "Oh my sweet Y/N, you're awake~" He cooed, now standing over you. He leaned himself down and reached his hand to your cheek, gently brushing your skin with his surprisingly soft thumb. He leaned his face closer to yours. The smell of booze, blood, & smoke overwhelmed your nostrils. Yet it didn't seem to bother you that much.

His touch almost kind of made you feel...at ease. Your heart slowed itself and your breathing went back to pace. You felt fine, somewhat, but something in your stomach was still sore. The more you stare at him, the more memories come flooding back. The more memories flooding back, the easier you fit the puzzles together.

"M-my...stomach..--" You stutter out painfully.

In response to this, the male turned his head over to your abdomen and gently rested his other hand onto your bandaged stomach, applying very gentle pressure on it as to not hurt you. It was still slightly painful, causing you to groan under your breath.

"Oh, this...I'm sorry, my sweet butterfly. I had to make sure you wouldn't get away, and you didn't! Don't worry, Jack patched you up, so you'll be just fine!"

You remember now. You remember it all. The chase, your friend, the salty kiss before what you thought was your demise.

You naturally wondered as well; who's Jack?

"Wh-.." You weakly force air out of your throat again to speak, "why am I..tied-?"

"Oh, so you wouldn't be able to get away. I knew you would run away, or struggles, so I had to make sure you wouldn't do that!"

He was right. You would run away and struggle to get out of whatever the hell kind of place you're in. Well, knowing what he looks like. He DID stab you, after all. Who knows what this sicko wants.

He lifts his hand from your stomach and turns back to you, gently placing both of his hands at each side of your face. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. So sweet and so innocent. I couldn't keep letting the others eat you up like candy. You're mine and only mine. I need to protect you."

"Wh-who- are you?" You weren't really all too scared for some strange reason now. You were pretty calm. Probably from all of the energy this is draining.

"His name is Jeff." A deep and gruff voice cuts in.

The both of you turn your heads to the door of the room where a tall figure in all black stood. He was about 6"4 wearing heavy boots, black jeans, and a black hoodie. His hair was a dark brown though while he wore a mask. The mask was a dark blue with black goo oozing from the eyesockets. He was pretty intimidating even just by standing idly like a character waiting to be loaded in.

"And I'm Jack." He continued, "I'm the one who took care of your wound."

Jack stepped closer, soon standing at the other side of the table. He stood at the left as Jeff stood at the right.

"He wouldn't stop insisting I help."

You just blink, unknowing of what to respond with. He pursed his lips under his dark mask, in his own thought for a moment while staring down at you. You seemed calm enough, and your still pretty fresh injury was gonna hold you back anyway.

"[P]-[Pronoun]'s gonna-!" He attempts to blurt out, only to be stopped by you.

"I won't."

You were untied at your wrists and ankles, allowing yourself to pull your legs up and rest your feet at the top of the table, propping your knees up. It made your stomach feel weird, but it felt kind of nose and felt like it was easing the pain. You wrapped your arms around your knees, looking around the room more. "What is this place?" You ask.

"It's a medical room."

"Huh.." You shrug it off. Your anxiety levels had died down and the more you actually think about it, this isn't the worst thing that's happened. Your life has been pretty fucked up and you have damaged relationships everywhere. Honestly, being around new people and being far away from others sounds not too bad right now. Not like anyone would care anyway.

The next few hours, you're introduced to everyone else at the Mansion. They've been so...unique and honestly, you're surprised some people and beings like them even exist. They were all equally surprised with how little fear you showed.

You actually got along with most of them.

The others have taken a liking to you and hope you hang around longer. Alone in the living room, you, Jeff, Jack, and others sit at the couches and chairs in the living room, chatting away and getting to know them as they get to know you.

You feel Jeff wrap his arms around you and place a gentle kiss on your forehead, making your heart skip a beat.

You found out Jeff has been stalking you for months at a time. Watching your every move, eliminating anyone in the way. Huh, no wonder so many people in your life kept disappearing. You...couldn't bring yourself to be upset or scared, let alone even sad. You felt kind of at ease.

And far from uncomfortable. Someone loved you. Maybe more than they should, but they love you.

You didn't even feel upset at the fact Jeff had murdered that friend earlier. I mean, you just met the guy, so he wasn't even a 'friend'? So you paid no mind to it.

If anything, you really liked the thrill of someone being obsessed with you. A serial killer being so infatuated with you. He could be so protective of you and get rid of anyone you asked him to! There's is an advantage here. You knew he could snap and probably kill you intentionally or unintentionally, but you didn't mind. You really had no one else, technically speaking. No one that really cared. Not as much as he did.

Maybe he isn't so bad.

#Jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #part two #part 2 #yandere #male yandere #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #gender neutral #jeff the killer x you #jeff the killer x y/n #small series

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ssahoodrathotchner · 3 years

Text

Pictures of You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: you lose your memories of the last few years, including the ones of your relationship with Aaron. The rest of the team thinks it’s hilarious.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: memory loss, swearing, some angst, hospital, talk of injuries, team shenanigans and fluff

A/N: okay this was a lot of fun to write bc soft!Hotch rights !! also really wanted to make the team play a larger role in a fic so here we go :)

Masterlist

---

You wake in a hospital bed, Morgan by your side, and a godawful pounding in your cloudy head. With a groan, you try to raise one of your hands to cover your eyes as Morgan’s head shoots up to stare at you with a relieved smile.

“Hey,” he says, catching your hand before you can lift it higher, “Don’t do that. You had a nasty fall, Princess.”

Satisfied that you won’t make any more moves towards your head, he sits back down at your side.

“Should I even ask how you’re doing or…” he trails off when you glare at him. “I’ll go let the team know you’re okay. Boss Man will be happy to hear you finally woke up,” and with that, Morgan is up and out of the room before you can even open your mouth because what.

Shifting around in the bed, you try to gauge just how injured you are, but the soreness in literally your entire body coupled with the haziness in your mind from the constant pain makes you conclude that you’ll leave it to the doctors to tell you what’s wrong. Sighing, you gently tilt your head to the side and observe the various beeping monitors.

The door opens and as you turn to see who it is, your mouth opens in disbelief. There’s no way. There’s absolutely no fucking way. This is fake. This is a dream. Your stomach simultaneously drops and fills with dread. How is this possible?

“You’re dead. You’re dead. We buried you,” you say in a rush, as none other than Emily fucking Prentiss stops by the side of your bed, looking at you confusedly. “Does this mean I’m dead? Are you a ghost?” you wonder out loud, and Emily looks behind her as the rest of the team, except Hotch, file in behind her, seemingly fine with her sudden appearance.

“How are you here, why are you here, what happened? You died. You’re supposed to be dead which means I’m probably dead,” you continue to ramble, frantically looking from at each member of your team and then back to Emily.

“What? Y/N, you aren’t dead. Just like I’m not dead,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you are,” you say shakily, chest tightening as your breaths become shorter and shorter.

“Y/N…” she says slowly, softly, “I faked my death four years ago.”

And with that, your ears rush and your mind goes blank. No no no no no no we buried her six months ago, she’s dead. You don’t notice the rest of the team trading glances around you as the world you thought you knew shatters and reforms in your mind.

“No,” you croak, throat suddenly constricting, but Emily only looks at you worriedly, Reid slipping out the door behind her.

“Y/N, can you take some deep breaths for me?” and your head turns to find JJ at your other side, hand on your shoulder. “Let’s breathe, you can do this,” she says, taking exaggerated breaths to demonstrate, smiling gently as you cooperate.

Reid enters, now, followed by a doctor who, immediately upon reaching your side, proceeds to shine a light in your eyes and asks you to complete all sorts of short tests while the team looks on.

“Now, Agent Y/L/N, Dr. Reid informed me that you seem to be having some memory issues, which is normal,” the doctor assures you, “especially with the head trauma you endured. So, tell me what you can remember and we’ll go from there,” he says with a helpful smile.

Fuck. What do you remember?

“Well…” you trail off, trying to pin-point an exact moment. “I remember Emily—Agent Prentiss’—funeral because it was six months ago, but apparently—” your eyes slide over the rest of the team, “—apparently, it was more like four years ago,” you finish slowly.

“And that’s as recent as you can remember?” the doctor pushes. You nod your head. “Well, Agent Y/L/N, it seems that you have post-traumatic retrograde amnesia, which isn’t a surprise, as I said before. My guess is that it’s temporary, and that you’ll recover your memories in time.”

��Any ideas how long?” Emily speaks up, carefully looking at your face.

“With cases such as these, there isn’t a definite timeline or standard procedure for memory recovery,” the doctor explains. “It may help to look at photos or videos and tell stories to try and help Agent Y/L/N heal quicker, but the brain is tricky,” and with that wonderful statement, the doctor turns and exits, leaving you and your team staring at each other, processing the fact that you don’t know when you’ll get your memories of the last four freakin’ years back.

“So, from the research I’ve done, it seems that—” Reid is cut off by the door flying open and Aaron Hotchner, your Unit Chief, bursting into the room with a concerned look on his face wearing a hoodie and jeans.

Morgan tries to grab his shoulder, but Hotch shakes him off as he walks right up to your bedside and grabs your hand. Holy shit. Heat rises to your cheeks instantly and you think your heart might have actually skipped a beat but, you can’t help it, you’ve had a crush on Hotch for ages and he’s holding your hand. But you don’t remember a time when Hotch was so forward in showing concern for one of his agents.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, Sweetheart—” you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming because Hotch has never called you Sweetheart. Ever. You’ve also never seen him in anything other than a suit. “—Jessica called because Jack has the flu and then he wanted to talk to me and—”

“Hotch!” Morgan all but yells, interrupting Hotch’s update on Jack, as you stare pointedly at his hand, still holding yours, trying to control the redness growing steadily stronger in your cheeks. What the hell.

“Hotch,” Morgan states, softer this time, “The last thing Y/L/N remembers clearly is Prentiss’ funeral.”

You look up with a weak approximation of a smile, and watch Hotch’s face shift as he comprehends what Morgan said.

“That was years ago,” he says slowly, face hardening into a look you’ve seen too many times when he tries to separate himself from the information he’s received.

Looking down at you, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, so you divert your eyes to his hand in yours. Once he notices this, he gently lets go and you know it’s silly, but you almost reach out for it again. Who knows the next time Hotch will want to hold your hand?

“So you don’t…” he doesn’t finish his question, which leaves you even more confused. Don’t what…?

“Umm. If it’s happened in the last four-ish years, then umm… Then I probably don’t remember it,” you say quietly, apologetically. “Sir,” you add on quickly, not wanting to forgo formalities even if your memory isn’t what it’s supposed to be.

However, instead of nodding, like you thought he would, Aaron Hotchner looks sad which confuses you even more.

“Aaron,” Rossi begins slowly, “the doctor said that talking about what’s happened since then may help Y/N’s memory come back.” Hotch looks up, almost relieved. “So why don’t you tell her something that’s happened since Prentiss’ funeral.”

And with that, Hotch takes a breath before reaching across your body to your other hand and holding it up. Not quite sure what’s happening, you allow him to hold your left hand up in your line of vision and that’s when you notice a fucking wedding ring. On your hand. Which Hotch is holding.

“I’m married?” you screech, looking at the team, who are now all trying not to laugh for some reason. “Who am I married to? Holy shit, what?” you continue looking around. Morgan and Prentiss look like they’ll break into outright laughter any minute. What’s going on?

Looking helplessly to Hotch, who is suspiciously quiet, you don’t have to repeat your question before he is carefully letting go of your left hand to hold his own up next to it and since when did Hotch wear a wedding band? Until you notice the striking similarities between the ring on your hand, and the one on your boss. What the actual fuck.

“We’re married?” you say, whipping your head to the side—ouch—to stare at Hotch, who is looking a little more amused than worried. “What? When? I just…” you can’t even finish your train of thought because your head is spinning so fast.

“Is it really that much of a surprise, Princess?” Derek chimes in. “I mean, you guys have been in love with each other forever,” and with that, he and Prentiss dissolve into a fit of laughter, which they try to smother, but you’re too busy taking in this very new and very interesting life development.

At some point in the last couple years, you married Hotch. Which means he knows you like him. And he likes you. You dated Hotch and now you’re fucking married. And you can’t remember any of it.

“…I don’t remember it…” you say sadly, softly and the laughter ceases.

Running a hand through his hair, Hotch takes a step back and shrugs, a small, reassuring smile on his face.

“We’ll figure it out, Sweetheart—” your stomach erupts into butterflies, “—we always do.”

With a sigh, you sink back into the pillows on your bed and stare at the ceiling, head throbbing worse than before thanks to all the new information.

“I just…” you pause to think about your current dilemma. “I just don’t know where to start with all this…Getting my memory back,” you look to Hotch and then the team, unsure of what to do.

“Well, the doctor did say that photos and videos might help. I’d be willing to recount every conversation we’ve had since Emily’s funeral, if you want, including the ones that you weren’t a part of, but were about you or a case,” Reid offers with a grin, and your heart melts.

Slowly shaking your head, you answer, “Thanks but maybe later, Spence. I’m still stuck on the whole I’m-married-to-my-boss thing right now.”

“Trust me Princess,” Derek laughs “I’m pretty sure all of us could tell you about how everything went down like a damn movie.”

“Yeah…” JJ continues with a fond shake of her head, “You guys weren’t very subtle about it.”

Sneaking a look out of the corner of your eye, you catch Hotch blushing and staring down at his shoes before he also sneaks a look at you, meeting your eyes.

“See?” Derek’s voice breaks your gaze. “This is exactly what I was talking about. You guys weren’t subtle and still aren’t,” rolling his eyes, he laughs a little and you can’t help but smile.

“At least they’re married this time around,” Rossi supplies. “No more ‘secret’ glances and yearning,” he says with such contempt you can’t help but laugh as Hotch—Aaron? — lets out a small chuckle of his own.

“Now I just need to remember how we got here,” you say, feeling a little more at ease. Slowly, you reach for Hotch’s left hand, studying the ring the matches your own. “Remember us,” you continue, just to him, and the smile that overtakes his face is the best thing you’ve seen since waking up.

“You weren’t wrong, Morgan,” comes Emily’s voice from the end of your bed. “This is just like a movie. Ugh. But don’t worry, Y/N, we’ll help you sort this out.”

“And I know just the woman for the job,” Morgan adds with a mischievous smirk which immediately makes you wonder about whatever it is he has planned.

“Now as much as I’d love to watch the two lovebirds gaze into each other’s eyes, I actually have plans,” Rossi states, looking down at his watch. “So, I’ll be back tomorrow. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says before waving to the rest of the team and leaving.

The rest of the team makes their own excuses to leave, and you can’t help but feel like Morgan and Prentiss have concocted some sort of scheme to “help” you get your memories back.

Running a hand over your face, you sigh. What now? The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up and realize that Hotch hadn’t left with the others, but was instead standing near the foot of your bed, looking somewhat anxious.

“I ummm… I was planning on spending the night here to make sure you were okay, but umm…” he trails off, unsure.

“But since I have no memory of us being together you think it’s weird…?” you ask gently.

“Yeah,” he answers in a sigh. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being here, especially because I know how frustrating and confusing this must be for you…”

“Hotch,” you start, but he can’t hide his wince when you call him that. “Aaron,” you try again. “Yes, this is incredibly confusing and frustrating because Emily should be dead and I didn’t think you had feelings for me at all,” you pause and see him smile, just a bit, “But I’d really like it if you stayed here. With me. Because—” you take a deep breath. “—Because you make me feel safe, Aaron, and I need that right now,” you say gently, not quite sure where the confidence came from, but Aaron’s eyes soften and his smile grows bigger as his shoulders drop in relief. Worth it.

“Then I’ll stay,” he says, and you can’t help the heat that once again rises in your cheeks as he continues to look at you.

You guys are married, dammit. Pull it together.

Averting your gaze, you turn your attention to getting more comfortable in your bed and decide to fuss with the placement of your pillows because damn was your back starting to hurt, but Aaron beats you to it. Within ten seconds of arranging the pillows behind you, he has them perfect.

“How…?” you start to question, but he just raises his eyebrows. “Right. Married,” you say with a shake of your head.

Aaron finally sits in the chair next to your bed and reaches, almost absentmindedly, for your hand before catching himself and stilling. You can see the fight in his mind—he wants to comfort you and himself, but with your memory, he doesn’t quite know where your boundaries are. Taking pity on him, you grab his hand yourself, weaving your fingers together so he knows it was on purpose. Okay so you really just wanted to hold his hand again, but you’re married! You’re allowed. He takes a deep breath and leans back in the chair, turning his head to really look at you.

“How’s your head?” he asks, brow furrowed in what you’ve come to understand is genuine concern.

You pause and consider for a moment.

“Not terrible, but not great,” you say slowly. “It’s like there’s a fog in my mind that I can’t see through. I know I’m missing stuff, but I just don’t know what.”

Aaron gently squeezes your hand, but doesn’t speak yet.

“I want to know what brought Emily back, how we happened, what it was that gave me this fucking injury, I just…” with an exasperated huff, you collect yourself. “I just want to know.”

“Well, Emily should be the one to tell you her part of the story, and as for us,” he gives you a smile “it’s a longer answer, at least for me, so that will have to wait—Sorry, Sweetheart,” he says when you pout. “However, I can tell you about what landed you in the hospital. How does that sound?”

“It’s a start,” you tease, and yes Aaron smiles wider and rolls his eyes.

“We were chasing an unsub, and Garcia had tracked him to a warehouse not too far from Quantico. We went there and—” his voice wavers. You squeeze his hand. “—and the unsub had set explosives around the perimeter of the building. I guess you got too close to him when trying to talk him down and he triggered the whole set.” Aaron sighs, and his eyes are glazed over like he’s reliving this—which he probably is—and there’s nothing you can really do besides let him take his time.

“You weren’t right by any of them, but you were thrown back and had hit the ground before I could even yell at you to stop—not that you would have listened,” he says pointedly with a watery laugh. “You just laid there, Morgan and I carried you over to the medics as soon as the dust settled and they took you away as we cleared the rest of the scene.”

“And the unsub?”

“He didn’t survive the explosion. As soon as we figured that out, we left it to the local PD and crime scene techs.” He looks at you softly. “We came straight here after that.”

“How long was I out before today,” you ask lightly, curiously.

“Three days. Dave had to convince me to go home and shower on the second day.” He looks down before sneaking a sideways glance at you.

“Well I’m glad he did,” you tease, scrunching your nose.

“And I’m glad you’re awake, Sweetheart,” he replies, squeezing your hand.

You laugh and look away before mumbling, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“Get used to what?” he waits a second. “Sweetheart?” Motherfucker. He knows what he’s doing.

“That! I woke up convinced you didn’t have feelings for me at all,” you say with a glare, “and now I know we’re married and you keep being so nice and understanding and calling me Sweetheart and I just don’t know how to deal with all of this!” you finish in a huff.

“I just feel bad that I can’t remember this, us” you add, gesturing between the two of you. “I’m trying and there’s just—” you make a frustrated noise and flop back to stare at the ceiling. “And my head still kind of hurts,” you add softly, almost pouting.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Aaron whispers. He clears his throat before continuing. “You’ll get your memories back,” he leans forward to stroke some hair off your forehead. “And until then, you know the team and I will do what we can to catch you up and help you remember.”

You push your head further into his hand with a sigh. He runs his hand through your hair a few times before pulling back and you almost whine. You yawn instead. Settling down, you tug the blanket up higher across your chest and turn to face Aaron as he also gets comfortable. He turns on the small television in your room and at some point, you fall asleep holding his hand.

---

You wake to the sound of the door opening, followed by the unmistakable click-clack of heels worn by none other than Penelope Garcia.

“Rise and shine! Time to regain your memory, lovely Y/N,” she sings, coming to a stop by the side of your bed as you roll over with a yawn.

“Pen—” you groan. “Let me sleep. Please.”

“Oh no, my little profiler. Do you have your memory back?” You shake your head. “Then we need to work on that! And don’t you dare tell me no; my wonderful Derek Morgan and I were up all night making this for you,”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Sadly, not like that. But, we compiled a presentation-slash-video montage for you about what you’ve missed!”

That catches your attention.

“Wha--? How? Penelope where did the footage come from?” you ask, more awake now.

“Well, I may or may not have used security cam footage for a lot of it, but that’s neither here nor there, so, without further ado, I present to you: your life for the past four-ish years!” and with that, she somehow connects her tablet to the TV and you see a picture of the whole team; Penelope then produces a remote from the depths of her purse and then proceeds to the next slide.

Which is a photo of you. And Aaron. Standing by the coffee machine in the office and smiling at each other, clearly unaware that the moment was being documented. The image is embellished with what must be close to fifty moving, sparkly hearts, obviously done by Garcia.

“First thing’s first,” she starts with a flourish. “Your husband!” and as if on cue, Aaron walks into the room, cup of coffee in hand. Much to your surprise, Aaron just rounds your bed to sit in the same chair you assume he fell asleep in, watching the screen.

“What is happening,” you say softly to yourself, looking from Aaron to Garcia and back.

“The doctor said photos and videos might help restore your memory, so who better to put something together than Garcia?” Hotch answers dryly, a small smile flashing across his face. “The rest of the team should be here shortly,” he says directly to Garcia.

“Oh good. I always work better with an audience,” she replies as you continue to process just what the hell is happening since you woke up approximately five minutes ago.

Within a few minutes, your hospital room is overrun with the rest of the team. Sitting, standing, leaning wherever they can find the space to view Penelope’s presentation with you in the middle of it all.

“Don’t you people have jobs?” you grumble.

“C’mon, Princess. Who better to help you remember the last few years than us?” Derek says with a cheeky grin that makes you roll your eyes.

You turn your gaze to Aaron and find that he’s already looking at you in concern.

“If you really don’t want all of us here we can leave,” he says just loud enough for you to hear.

“I just…” you take a moment to try and collect your thoughts. “I guess I just don’t know how to feel about all of this, but you’re all here so— “

“So here we go!” Penelope cheerfully finishes your sentence before turning back to the screen. “As I was saying before, part one of Operation Get Y/N’s Memories Back is all about—drumroll please—our very own Unit Chief, a.k.a. Hotch, a.k.a. loving husband to our very own Agent Y/L/N.”

With a shake of your head, purposefully ignoring the way Derek and Emily are whooping and whistling, you settle in and gesture for Penelope to continue. God, let’s hope this works.

---

It doesn’t work.

Fuck.

Three almost four hours later and nothing has changed for you. However, it’s a lovely opportunity for some team bonding and creating new memories, but you’re still disappointed. It’s not for lack of trying, though. Penelope did a wonderful job of pulling together a presentation-slash-video montage of your life, complete with titles such as ‘Your lovely husband,’ ‘The Miraculous Life, Death, and Subsequent Resurrection of Emily Prentiss,’ and even ‘Badass BAU Babies,’ which was a collection of team photos and news clips of cases you guys had closed in the past few years.

The whole team had gotten a kick out of each section, especially the last one, as Penelope had spared no one in her quest to help your memory; ugly selfies sent in the BAU group chat, embarrassing footage of you tripping up (and down) the stairs to the bullpen—courtesy of the security cameras, Reid doing physics magic and narrowly missing Rossi’s coffee cup, it was all there. But nothing worked, there was no magical ah ha moment where everything came rushing back. If anything, it really was like watching a movie; it didn’t feel like you were the one is all of these clips and photos. Not even Reid’s commentary made you feel any closer than before to recovering your memories.

It wasn’t all bad, though. Penelope had a veritable stockpile of photos of you and Aaron, ranging from the office, to cases, to the occasional night out with the team. Your engagement announcement, wedding photos, freakin’ everything on the two of you and yet, nothing seemed to make a difference to your brain.

The photo on the screen was one of you and Aaron on a case. You were tucked under his arm, snowflakes visible in your hair and his as you look up and laugh at something he said while he just smiles gently down at you. Penelope had put hearts over both your eyes.

“Actual heart eyes! I had to! You guys are so cute!” she basically squealed when the photo came up.

“What did I tell you,” Rossi said teasingly, “Yearning.”

Prentiss and Morgan hadn’t stopped laughing for this entire segment, with JJ and Reid occasionally joining in if there was something exceptionally ridiculous Penelope had included, like fucking heart eyes.

A hand covering your own makes you realize you had spaced out, and you look down to see that it’s Aaron’s hand, wedding band catching the light.

“Anything, Sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice, carefully watching your face.

You shake your head. “It’s like it’s someone else’s life, but I know it’s mine; you’ve told me it’s mine, there’s photographic evidence that it’s mine!” you say in a huff. “It just doesn’t feel like it’s mine,” you whisper, voice breaking at the end. Tears gather in your eyes and you bite your lip to stop it from shaking as you desperately try and control your overwhelming emotions. You can hear the team in the background, strategizing new ways to help you, but Aaron’s face hovers in front of your own, drawing your attention.

“It’s okay,” he says lightly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“No, it’s not,” you insist as a few tears make their way down your face. “It’s not, Aaron. What if this is it? What if I just don’t get my memories back?”

Letting out a long sigh, Aaron raises your hand to his lips and kisses your palm before folding your hand into his.

“You will. I know you will,” he says with such conviction you might just believe him if it weren’t for the way he rapidly blinks to keep his own tears at bay.

“Yeah, Princess.” Morgan chimes in from somewhere across the room. “We’ll figure this out, you know we will.”

And with that, you see something click into place in Aaron’s eyes and suddenly, he’s looking at you in such a way that your heart picks up—thanks, heart monitor.

“Aaron…?” you ask cautiously.

“Princess,” he says it so simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You only have time to raise an eyebrow at him before—

Oh.

Kissing Aaron Hotchner is something you could definitely get used to. His hand comes up to cradle your face as he gently moves his lips against yours. You sigh and can feel his smile against your mouth before he’s tugging your face closer, tilting your head just so and—

There.

It’s like opening a window to let in a breeze. Soft and sure, filling the space in a way that’s all-encompassing without being suffocating.

Like snowflakes falling and settling on his black jacket, like Aaron down on one knee sliding your engagement ring on your finger while you smile so much it feels like your face will break. It’s leaving cups of coffee on his desk during late nights in the office. It’s playing soccer with Jack as Aaron smiles and cheers both of you on. It’s being in bed late at night, falling asleep in the comfort provided by the man you love. Your wedding vows, promising to love him forever.

And you know.

With a gasp, you pull Aaron closer, kiss him deeper, harder, moving your lips more frantically against his. I remember I remember I remember and you think he gets it because he pulls back and looks at you with so much hope it almost breaks your heart.

“When I said I’d love you forever, Aaron Hotchner, I meant it.”

And his face breaks into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen as he laughs in disbelief before capturing your lips with his again, returning the urgency you had kissed him with just moments ago.

Someone clears their throat and you pull apart, smiles obvious on both your faces as you turn to the team who are looking somewhat confused.

“Would you mind enlightening us as to why you two are suddenly acting like teenagers?” Rossi asks, eyebrows raised.

“Well,” Aaron starts, grinning in your direction, “It would seem that— “

“Nuh uh. No way,” Derek interrupts him. “Are you seriously about to say that you kissed her and she magically remembered?”

You can’t help but laugh at his disbelief because what the hell and nod, unable to speak through the giddiness overtaking your body. You remember.

“Ohmygod! You guys!!” Penelope squeals before launching herself into your arms for a hug which she promptly pulls Aaron into as well; he doesn’t protest.

“What made you do that, Hotch?” Reid asks curiously once Penelope has let you and Aaron go. “Did you know it would work?”

“Princess,” Aaron says with a nod towards Morgan. “In Jack’s storybooks, a kiss always wakes the Princess so she and her prince can live happily ever after.”

Okay that’s adorable and you can’t help but aww with the rest of the team at Aaron’s confession.

“Happily ever after, huh?” you say, tugging on his hand. “Who knew you were such a sap, Hotchner?”

Rolling his eyes, Aaron just smiles. “Wasn’t it obvious from Garcia’s presentation? I’ve been in love with you forever, Sweetheart. And besides, it worked, didn’t it?” he says with a smug smile.

You pull him down for a short kiss before moving back just enough to murmur “My Prince Charming.”

“I can’t believe you guys,” you turn to see Morgan shaking his head. “A literal fuckin’ fairytale,” and then he’s laughing and the whole team, you and Aaron included, are laughing with him because yeah this is pretty surreal.

“I can’t believe you thought I was a ghost!” Emily says once the laughter has died down, her arms crossed in mock-anger.

“Can you blame me?” you retort. “The last thing I remember was burying you and suddenly you’re here? Nope. No way. Ghost. Only explanation.”

“I have to say, Y/L/N, I’m glad you’re back, if only to stop Aaron’s sad puppy-dog eyes every time you called him ‘Hotch,’” Rossi shakes his head. “I don’t know how much more yearning I could take.”

“Hey! Be nice,” JJ admonishes, swatting Rossi’s shoulder. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Yeah guys,” you echo. “Be nice! Don’t think I forgot you two,” you say, leveling Morgan and Prentiss with glares, “and all your laughter when I couldn’t remember that my husband and I were married!”

“Oh c’mon, Princess,” Morgan groans. “It was pretty funny. You were trying so hard not to look completely in love with your husband.”

“In my defense,” you start, “I didn’t know that you guys already knew how much I love Aaron, so excuse me for trying to hide my love,” you say with a sniff.

“Well, it was pretty obvious. Whenever you looked at him or he grabbed your hand, the heart monitor would register an increase in your heart rate by—” Reid starts to ramble but your laughter cuts him off.

“I get it, I get it,” you continue through your laughter. “I’m very in love with Aaron, even when I think it’s a secret, but as Penelope’s presentation so eloquently demonstrated, I’m not subtle and neither is he.”

Aaron leans over to kiss your cheek as the rest of the team continues into a conversation about Penelope’s presentation and how the hell she collected all those photos and videos in one day.

With the attention no longer on you—for now—you smile at Aaron, who smiles right back. He slumps back in his chair with a sigh, and you can’t help but pull him back closer to you.

“I love you,” you say kissing the back of his hand.

“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he replies softly.

Yeah, this is happily ever after.

1K notes · View notes

vad-hander · 3 years

Text

JAEBEOM, THE GUY FROM THE BAR

Pairing: Jaebeom x reader

Genre: Series | Eventual Smut | Angst | Fluff

Warnings: break up, cheating, strangers to lovers, mentions of drinking

Words: 2.3k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You were sitting at the bar playing with the glass in your hands. The cocktail you were consuming for the past 15 minutes was almost gone and you were considering what should be your next order in your head. Your eyes ran after the bartender, watching him shuffle the bottle, finally pouring liquid into the glass of a blonde girl that was hungrily watching it fill up.

You lifted your arm, letting the guy behind the bar know you needed a refill, one more. You already lost count to the number of drinks you had in the last hour, trying to make your brain ignore the void inside of your chest. Your vision was getting blurry and it’s exactly what you were trying to do. You were trying to lose your sences with alcohol to not see what was happening to your left. The more drinks you downed, the less you saw with your peripheral vision. Everything went as planned, and you put all of your energy to erase the memory of this not being your initial plan when you left your place a couple of hours ago. You watched bartender finally move in your direction, sighing in relief. You were beginning to think he ignored you on purpose and were considering the option of becoming the annoying drunk customer that would make a scene for not getting their drink for too long.

“Let this one be on me.” you heard a voice behind you, not paying too much attention to it. Another guy was trying to be smooth with a wasted pretty girl at the bar, nothing new, you were just glad they weren’t bothering you.

Bartender turned his head towards you, finally stopping in front of your stool. You were about to open your mouth to order, having a slight smile on your lips, when your eyes finally focused on his face and you saw he wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were pierced to someone behind you. You felt anger blow up your body in a second, making your face red. You felt like you could punch the person who just got in front of you, right when you were about to order. Sudden anger made you want to turn around and fight with that person, until you realised bartender was looking back at you. He clearly was asking for your permission with his eyes and the sudden thought of you being the wasted pretty girl that someone was trying to hit on crossed your mind. You turned around immediately, feeling your face get even redder now due to the guys’ behind you intense staring. You felt puzzled, shy and confused all at the same time. You were pretty sure you swallowed your tongue in shock when your eyes ran over the stranger’s face and you had to lick your lips to make sure you didn’t. His handsome features made you scared and more than thinking what even made him talk to you, you were scared the drink he’d get for you could be poisoned. You stuttered trying to get a reply from your throat and he chuckled lightly at you. You noticed how his eyes turned into crescent moons when he did so and something inside of you switched.

“I swear, I’m not a creep.” he smiled kindly. “If you’re okay with me sitting here, I’ll explain.” you noticed how the seat next to you was empty and you wondered if he made someone leave while you were absorbed into watching the bartender.

“Okay…” you finally found it in you to speak. “You can sit, but not the drink. I’m able to pay for myself.”

“Deal.” he sat down and ordered a whiskey. Bartender nodded and turned to you, probably seeing how angered you were before and willing to take your order first. You asked for another rum with coke, turning your attention to the guy that seated himself next to you. Your eyes ran over the silhouette of his long nose with a sharp tip, plump upper lip that reminded you the shape of a heart, quickly running over his round but sharp cheeks. You noticed how he had his ears pierced and when you lowered your eyes to his hands that were laying at the bar you noticed silver rings on a couple of his fingers. You lifted your eyes back up meeting with his piercing gaze once again. You felt a flash of embarrassment and wondered if he noticed you checking him out.

He was handsome, but you weren’t interested. You repeated this before tasting your new drink on your tongue and licking your lips again.

“So…?” you asked when he kept staring and sipping on his whiskey quietly. You were beginning to feel awkward under his gaze. “I’m wondering what made you think I’m in need of a company?” you allowed the glass to meet the stone of the table, running your fingers through your hair to push them back. He did the same and you suddenly found it hard to breathe. You thought maybe, you hit your limit with the drinks tonight, deciding to not finish this glass.

“I watched you for a while and lost count of the drinks you had in just this hour. You don’t look like a party monster.” You made an offended face and a smile lit up his face again. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. Plus, I don’t think I ever saw you here before, and I’m a regular here. You don’t seem to be trying to seduce anyone so I guessed something happened to you and you might need someone to help you get home.” you were surprised with his precise observations to the extent of forgetting to not show it all on your face.

“So, you’re saying you’re not a creep and then you say you want to walk me home.” you made a suspicious face expression and he chuckled making a loud enough noise for you to hear it.

“And if it bothered you to show me where you live I would’ve taken you to my place.” he pointed biting his lower lip.

“Oh, that is definitely calming, totally a better option.” you nodded and the both of you laughed.

“You’re pretty when you smile.” he suddenly said with a serious face expression. You stopped laughing too and felt redness crawl over your face. The light atmosphere you felt come with laughter left you exactly same second the words left his mouth. Your eyes ran over the club and you didn’t find anything better than grabbing the glass and taking a sip of the drink you decided a second ago to not drink anymore. You felt soberer than before and the liquid even gave your throat a burn as if it was your first sip.

You weren’t used to being hit on by handsome guys at clubs due to two reasons: 1 - you weren’t going out much and 2 – well, actually, it was the first time you were all by yourself drowning yourself in drinks. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t not say it when I saw your face light up, you were too serious this whole time.”

“Thanks…” you coughed feeling the conversation die in awkwardness.

“So, are you okay? Something happened? You can tell me, I’m a complete stranger, nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m…fine.” you chewed on your lip wondering if it’s a good idea to share your life at the club when your practically wasted.

“Is it because of the guy over there?” his finger pointed behind you and you turned around with the speed of a turtle to see where he was pointing.

“What made you think so?” you quickly turned back, genuinely wondering.

“You keep on glancing back there, and every time you do you down your drink. For the past hour people switched around but your eyes kept glued to the only person that’s not moving over there.” He summarized.

“And you’re a regular here because you come to watch lonely girls get drunk and then offer to take them home? Whether their or yours?” you tried to change the topic, expanding your hand to the drink but changing your decision immediately.

“No, I’m a regular here because I live two blocks down the road. I was here with a friend, but he had to leave early because his girlfriend called him. I noticed you when I got here because you’re not the usual type to hang out here and it caught my eye. You caught my eye so I watched if you were with someone, but then I noticed you drinking non-stop and noticed you stare there. I came because I only wanted to make sure you’re fine and safe, and I still want to know that.” The tone that he spoke with made you believe him and you felt a tiny bit more relaxed than before. Maybe it was naïve to believe the first stranger you met but the alcohol in your system told you it’s not a big deal. You didn’t live in this area, you never came here before, talking to him won’t actually change much in your life because you wouldn’t remember anything by tomorrow, keeping in mind the amount of drinks you just had.

“That’s my boyfriend.” you simply stated.

“Who?” he asked confused and looked behind you.

“The guy that don’t move around, he’s who I came with. We’re dating.”

“With him?” he asked in disbelief, forcing for you to look there once again, to watch your boyfriend in action.

Your eyes immediately found a tall guy in the crowd. Currently he was dry humping a girl in the corner. He looked even more wasted now than twenty minutes ago when you looked at him last.

“Why is he with someone else there and you’re here. Are you two in that type of relationship?”

“That’s his best friend’s sister, they’re just having fun, don’t imagine things that aren’t there.” You defended, feeling yourself dumber with every word that left your mouth.

“You’re the one that’s trying to drink away the pain, I guess it’s you who should stop imagining.”

“It’s not that.” You said seriously, turning back to face the guy, not being able to look there for any longer.

“Why are you not with them having fun?”

“I don’t like to dance if it’s not just me and him.”

“He just left you here alone? For the whole evening? Not even checking on you once?” you looked the guy in the eyes knowing for a fact he’s right, but you told yourself he wasn’t. He doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t know you or your boyfriend. He doesn’t know he actually loves you. “He doesn’t love you.” he added a silent moment after.

“You crossed the line.” You tried to tell him to apologize calmly but he definitely didn’t catch it.

“If I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t leave you for a minute for some cheap-ass girl from a cheap diner around the corner. I’m sure I saw her there during day time.”

“What’s the exact reason for your lecture?” you were getting worked up. Who is he to tell you shit about your boyfriend? Who is he to play with your emotions like that?

Your boyfriend always told you you were a little bit sensitive, you were jealous under circumstances you shouldn’t have and he was sweet and caring enough to reassure you. You knew this was just one of those occasions and it was your own decision to stay at the bar when she suggested to dance, you were the one who made yourself go crazy in jealousy.

“No reason, I just noticed something, thought I’ll say it as well, since we’re talking anyway.” You ran your eyes once again to the corner where your boyfriend was, before focusing on your glass. The conversation died and you thought maybe he’ll leave since now he knows you won’t fall for whatever he had in store. “How long have you two been together?”

“8 months.”

“Dump him.” He said freely and your eyes shot up to the guy on your right side. Did he lose his mind?

“What?”

“Dump the guy if 8 months into a relationship he finds it normal to leave you at the bar to drown in drinks to make out in front of your face with someone else. That’s fucked.”

“He’s drunk, that’s his friends’ sister and I’m drunk and sensitive. You can chill out, Sherlock Holmes, you won’t find anything interesting here.” You made an excusing face sitting straight to stare into your phone. The guy went quiet and you let him be, killing the time.

“Baby, I’m sorry I took too long.” you felt your boyfriend’s hands over your waist. His cheek landed on your shoulder blade and he sighed letting you smell all the drinks he had. His body weight almost made you fall off the stool and the guy you talked to before prevented you from falling by your knee. You tried to ignore him and turned your face to see your boyfriend.

“Let’s go to yours?” you asked in hope.

“Yeah. Can Jack’s sister come with us? She can’t go back home, she said she’s fine with the couch.”

“It’s your place.” you nodded.

“You’re the best.” He kissed your cheek leaving a wet mark there. “By the way, I missed you so much, I wish you went dancing with us, they played your favorite song, did you hear it?” your boyfriends words made what the stranger guy said die in your head immediately.

“Yeah, me too. Let’s go?” you asked trying to stand up under his weight and he found balance allowing for you to do so. “See? You’re wrong, bye, good luck.” you said to the handsome guy, taking your boyfriends expanded hand and leaving the club with him. And his best friend’s sister too, of course.

more people voted for Jaebeom fic, so here's pt.1

I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you think! <3

#jaebeom #jaebeom smut #jay b #jaebeom fluff #jaebeom fanfiction #jaebum #im jaeboem #jaebom #got7 jb #jb fic #jb smut #jaebum smut #jaebum imagines #jaebum fluff #got7 #got7 jaebeom #got7 smut #got7 fluff

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mordoriscalling · 3 years

Text

Seeing Him For the First Time Again

In which Geralt, when waking up after tonsil removal surgery, suffers from temporary memory loss. The stunning stranger at his bedside claims that they're married. Geralt has trouble wrapping his head around it.

A little addition to the Singer and the Sailor series, but can be read as a stand-alone. Inspired by this video. Also available on AO3.

There’s a cacophony of sounds around him but he doesn’t fully process the noise. He only knows that he’s had tonsil removal surgery. His throat sure hurts like it. His head is heavy, his mind fuzzy, it’s all wrong. He wants it to stop.

His thoughts go directly to his mouth as he mumbles, “I need medicine.”

From the right, there comes a beautiful, mellifluous voice.

“They’re bringing you some,” it says.

Startled, Geralt looks to where the words came from and –

His breath hitches in his throat and his heart skips a beat; there, right at his bedside, sits a vision.

The man is not just a man. He must be an elf, or a fae, or some other inhuman being. His face is straight out of a fairytale, and his eyes are so wide and blue. He could be an angel, with those eyes, but his body – strong neck, broad shoulders, chest hair – invites Geralt to sin.

Why would someone like this be here, watching over him?

“Did the doctors send you?” he wonders. With mouth-to-brain filter absent, he adds, “You’re eye candy.”

The otherworldly creature laughs – which is such a gorgeous melody – but god, his smile. His smile is the Sun itself.

“Wow,” Geralt breathes out. “You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, thank goodness Yenna isn’t here,” the guy replies, grinning. “You’d say that to her instead if she were.”

“Yenna?” Geralt echoes. The name feels familiar on his tongue for some reason. “Yenna... Yenn... Yen...”

“Yes, Yen,” the stunning stranger chimes in. “She’s visiting you with Ciri later.”

He’s somehow sure that he knows Ciri too. The next moment, he realises that Ciri and Yen are important. He feels it down to his very bones. Why? That escapes him, even though -

This train of thought is cut off by a snicker. Geralt looks at his bedside angel once more. The surreal man is holding... something, in one of his hands. It’s a really beautiful hand, as if an artist carved it from marble. The whole of him is like an artwork. He must be widely admired, with such compelling facial features and those eyes.

“Are you a model?”

“No,” the stranger denies.

That doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s so pretty. He’s pretty like a... like... somebody. He’s certainly someone. Geralt needs to get to know him.

“Who are you?” he asks. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Jaskier,” the man introduces himself. “I’m your husband.”

“You’re my husband?!” Geralt gasps in shock, not believing his ears.

“Yeah,” the model-but-not-a-model – Jaskier, yes, that name suits him – confirms.

“Holy fuck!” he exclaims, smiling, his chest fit to burst with joy.

Jaskier chuckles so beautifully again and Geralt closes his eyes, savouring the sound. Then, a wave of nausea hits him and he can’t really focus on anything. When it passes, Geralt turns his head back to the vision at his right. His husband. That’s so incredible. And serious. They could be parents, even.

“Do we have children?”

“Depending on how you look at it,” Jaskier explains, “We have between zero to two kids.”

Geralt frowns, dumbstruck. How do you have between zero to two children with someone? He’s quite sure that having children with someone doesn’t work like that. Having children starts with... kissing... and then... Wait.

“Have we kissed yet?” he asks.

Jaskier throws his head back, laughing with his whole body. Geralt’s breath is taken away again.

“We’ve kissed a lot, darling,” Jaskier answers.

“Is that what we call each other? Darling?”

“We call each other many names, dearest.”

Suddenly, there’re many thoughts at once running through his mind. Something about “Lead me, dearest”, sirens and sea. Yes, sea, he knows that too. He knows that he knows many things; he isn’t young. But since when has he got a husband?

“How long have we been married?”

“Three years,” Jaskier replies, smiling warmly.

“Fuck yeah, I hit the jackpot!” Geralt cries triumphantly.

Jaskier is his husband. He’s his. His to love, his to touch –

“Let me see your face,” Geralt says as he reaches out to cup Jaskier’s cheek. Turning his husband’s head to the side, he gushes, “Your profile is perfect!” Then, he loses the strength to touch Jaskier, but that’s all right. He has another idea. “Turn around.”

“No,” Jaskier objects with a delighted giggle.

Geralt pouts. He just wants to see if Jaskier’s ass is as perfect as the rest of him. Not that he doubts it. Wouldn’t hurt to check, is all. Checking up facts is good.

“We’re married!” he repeats with wonder and his husband nods. “Oh fuck.”

Jaskier only laughs again and tells him to settle down. Geralt, being a good husband to his surprise husband, listens. Still confused as to how he got so lucky but overjoyed at the fact nevertheless, he drifts off to sleep.

***

Later, as the anaesthesia starts wearing off, Geralt’s memory returns, dispersing his confusion. Slowly, all the pieces fall into place:

Jaskier is not a model, but a well-known singer, who Ciri was a fan of as a teenager.

Jaskier and Geralt got together after they pretended to be engaged and actually pulled it off. They have been together for six years now.

Geralt and Jaskier call each other a sailor and a siren. “Lead me, dearest, to the coast of tomorrow” is engraved on the inside of their wedding rings.

Technically, they don’t have children together. Geralt has Ciri with Yennefer. Jaskier is Dara’s guardian. Yet, Ciri and Dara are inseparable like siblings, and Jaskier and Geralt treat them as such.

Jaskier and Geralt also have a dog and a boat. Both are of the same name.

As a retired Royal Navy commander, Geralt finally has enough time to cherish his family. He often takes care of his nephew - Eskel and Essi’s son - Nao. He does that especially when Eskel is deployed, just like Eskel used to help him with Ciri. Lambert and Aiden help Essi too. So do Yennefer and Triss. And Jaskier and his sisters with their families. Plus Ciri and Dara. And Vesemir. Jaskier’s parents as well. Really, Nao, at two-and-a-half, might already be the most spoiled child in the world. Not that he minds. He loves the attention nearly as much as he loves Jaskier’s niece, Zofia. Zofia and Nao are so adorably taken with each other that no one can quite handle it.

All in all, Geralt’s life is just so good.

“I really did hit the jackpot,” he says after they return from the hospital.

“No, my heart,” Jaskier replies, “I did.”

Then, they kiss, and the anaesthesia incident is happily forgotten.

Or so it should have been.

The reality is this: at a family gathering a week later, it turns out that Jaskier recorded the whole thing. He shows the video to everyone. Geralt has never been simultaneously laughed at and called “precious” so much in his whole life. In fact, he never wants to hear the word “precious” spoken in his vicinity ever again.

More or less fleeing this predicament, Geralt takes Roach (the dog) and goes to hide on Roach (the boat) for solid three days. He wants to stay there longer, he tries to be mad, but then Jaskier appears with an apology song.

Geralt thinks to himself he’s a rather shitty sailor, unable to resist a siren’s call.

#myfic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fanfiction #modern au

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kohanayaki · 3 years

Text

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 3

Continuing the story of how you and Sirius became friends; as James and Remus grow closer to you, Sirius continues to treat you coldly until a late night encounter makes him question everything.

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

________________________________________________________

Ch 3 .:Resistance and Reconciliation:.

~Previously~

“I'm not going to bother making friends with someone whose family is so wrapped up in blood politics they forget to be human beings first. Trust me, I've met their mother enough times to know.”

“Did you ever ask them about it?” Remus pressed.

“I don't really need to, do I? They're a (L/n). Open your eyes, Moony!”

Remus' brow furrowed, a shine in his eyes akin to sympathy as he regarded Sirius.

“Perhaps it's you that needs to clear your vision, friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1974 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius sat on the stone ledge on the window of his dorm room, looking out towards the Black Lake. He could see the push and pull of the wind as the thin branches of the ash trees bowed gently with the rhythm. In the reflection of the glass he could see James and Peter behind him experimenting with an altered set of wizard's chess, complete with fire-breathing knights and bishops that threw daggers, while one of Remus' records spun in the background.

Despite everything he could have been thinking about at the moment, his thoughts, irritatingly enough, drifted to you. He frowned slightly as he leaned his shoulder against the window, annoyed that you occupied even a portion of his mind. He just couldn't understand you. Somehow you had turned James, who had once openly proclaimed you his sworn enemy, into something close to a friend in the span of a year. You had no qualms with pranks pulled on you, yet you were fiercely protective when they were directed at others. You were always smiling, yet your temper took no prisoners. If you weren't a Slytherin you might even be attractive.

The thought made him bolt upright. Where the hell did that come from? He almost laughed. No. Absolutely not. He was Sirius Black, he could get anyone he wanted in this bloody school, and he certainly wasn't going to busy his mind with you. What the hell was wrong with him? It's not like he noticed the way you smiled to yourself when you were reading, or the fact that the sound of your laugh got stuck in his head like a song—

No. Stop it. Get your head straight, they're evil.

Sirius exhaled deeply, rubbing his tired eyes with his hands. For some reason that thought didn't sit right in his brain, and the longer he sat with it he came to a horrifying conclusion:

Maybe Remus was right.

The only time you'd really been nasty to them was when they'd instigated it first, or whenever they had a go at Snivelus, which had become less and less frequent; Sirius suspected because of your tentative friendship with James. He'd always just assumed you were like the other Slytherins he'd come to know. There's been hearsay circulating around you, especially given your family's reputation, but you yourself hadn't really done anything to prove the rumors. Maybe you really weren't like your family at all. Maybe you were like him. . .

Suddenly, he caught movement in the corner of his eye, not from his friend's reflections but from outside the window itself. A figure emerged from the lamplight of the castle gate, making their way towards the edge of the forest. If the green lining of your school robes and (h/c) hair didn't peak his interest, the flash that he saw of your face as you shot a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed it was you.

Sirius' mind began racing as he watched you disappear into the foliage, and suddenly every thought that had given you the benefit of the doubt vanished. He'd heard the rumors about the gatherings in the forest, everyone had. He'd even caught Snape practicing dark magic there himself one of the first nights they'd used the Shrieking Shack passageway.

He jumped off his perch by the window and grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill, drawing a rough outline of the perimeter of the forest. He labeled the Black Lake so his spell would have a going off point and pressed his wand to the still drying ink.

“Revelare Popularis,”

The enchantment was a work in progress— a technique he'd learned from a seventh year. It wasn't exact, but it was enough to tell him if anyone else was in the forest right now. His eyes darted across the paper as he scanned his makeshift map, and the color drained from his face as he saw names suddenly appear in a cluster by the lake: Mulciber, Wilkes, Avery, and Malfoy.

Was this it? Were you really one of them?

James looked up from his game as he saw Sirius grab his leather jacket off where it hung from his bedpost.

“Going somewhere?”

“(L/n) just went into the forest,” Sirius said, “I'm following them.”

“Why, Sirius?” Remus said sardonically, having had enough of his unusual grudge against you, “We're not really ones to talk when it comes to sneaking around the forest at night, now are we?”

“He's got a point,” James said, “I mean, what do you think you're going to see?”

“What do I think?” Sirius scoffed, pushing the paper into Jame's hands, “what does it look like?”

James looked down at the parchment blankly.

“What am I looking at?”

“A variation on Revelio,” Sirius explained quickly, “if you have a location in mind it shows you who's there, but only at the time the charm is cast.”

“Are you kidding me?” James' jaw nearly dropped, “You're just now showing this to us? We could have been taking advantage of this spell to dodge Filch this whole time!”

“I'm serious.”

James had to fight hard not to make a joke out of that one.

“If (L/n)'s meeting up with those guys it can't be for anything good,” Sirius continued, “and I'm gonna find out exactly why.”

Before any of the boys could get another word in, Sirius took off running down the corridor. James groaned, rebelling against the urge to slam his head into the wall.

“I've got to stop him before he does something stupid,” he said, pulling a coat on over his shoulders, “You with me, Remus?”

“Probably not the best idea,” Lupin reminded him, “the moon's full tomorrow. I won't turn, but in the direct moonlight I may get a bit. . . well, you know.”

“Right,” James sighed, running a hand through his hair in distress, “Peter?”

The boy jolted as he was addressed, his eyes quickly cast down to his twiddling fingers.

“I. . . w-well. . .”

“Fine,” James said, waving them off in annoyance, “I'll go at him alone.”

___________________________________________________

You took a grateful breath of the crisp night air, letting the wind whistle through your hair and clothes. You loved your common room, but it could feel constricting at times, especially when there were nights as beautiful as this taking place.

Your eyes drifted up to the moon, smiling at the sight of it. It was nearly full, only a sliver of white missing from the very edge of the sphere. The sight alone was enough to make you feel more at home in your own skin, an inexplicable sense of comfort washing over you. You hadn't been able to really let loose and just run in so long. You'd made doubly sure no one had followed you into the forest, but you still gave your surroundings a quick once over. You jumped as the sound of leaves crunching suddenly asserted itself behind you and you lit your wand quickly, turning to see who it was.

“. . . Black?”

“Sorry, were you expecting someone else? One of your pureblood friends, maybe?”

The confused look on your face only made his anger flare.

“Don't act coy,” he asked harshly, “just what are you playing at?”

Your back straightened in surprise, taken aback by his words.

“Excuse me?”

“I've seen you talking to my brother, Rosier, Snivelus, and all those other Slytherins. Don't think I don't know what you're doing,” the words flew out of his mouth before they had time to pass through his brain, every irrational irritation he had regarding you spewing out of him at once, “I've had to sit through it, you know. All those dinners where my parents talk blood politics with all the fanatics who think just like them. I've listened to your mother brag all about your pure blood line and how her child is 'so eager to carry on the family traditions'. So whatever you're planning by getting close to James, I'm not going to let it happen.”

You felt like you were frozen in place, staring at him as your throat tightened into knots.

“My mom?” you said, voice suddenly small, “Sirius. . . my mom passed away when I was little.”

Your words hit the Gryffindor like a truck.

“. . . what?” he asked dumbly, his brain delaying slightly in processing what you'd just said.

“She got sick. . . an experimental spell gone wrong. If you met someone with my family's name that spoke like that, it was probably my aunt. My cousin goes to Ilvermorny. That's the child she's talking about, not me. The divide between purebloods and muggleborns is even more severe in America, if you can believe it. . . ”

Sirius faltered, this new information going against everything he'd heard and thought he knew about you and your family.

“But,” he hesitated, “your father—”

“Put up the image he had to in order to keep me safe,” you said. You knew he was documented as being very open about his pureblood pride and distaste towards muggles, but it was a cover more than anything, “Since he stopped speaking with my aunt and moved us both away from the estate, she's acted as the new head of the (L/n) House, and that was years ago. . .”

You trailed off awkwardly, not feeling very self-righteous in your explanation.

“I know my family doesn't have the best reputation. . . that's probably why you hate me, huh?” you chuckled humorlessly, wincing at how harsh the words came out. But if you were honest, you were hurt that out of everyone in their group, Sirius was the one that didn't even seem to want to give you a chance. You were the one who had extended the olive branch in the first place on the condition that they ease up on Severus.

“Hate you?” Sirius echoed hollowly, feeling guilt creep up on him like a shadow, “that's. . . shit, no, that's not—”

“Everte Statum!”

You gasped as Sirius was suddenly shot backwards, his body flipping wildly through the air from the force before being slammed against the trunk of a nearby tree. His head spun, heavily disoriented as his vision shifted in shades.

You had drawn your wand on instinct, looking around for your attackers when you saw a black-clad figure lift their hood, revealing a long mane of white hair that stood out starkly in the night.

Malfoy.

“Well, looky here,” Mulciber taunted, revealing himself behind you, “we've caught the two biggest blood traitors of the last century having a touching little moment together.”

Laughter echoed from the trees, Wilkes emerging from the shadows. You took up a defensive position as their group surrounded you.

“Now, let's not be hasty, Mulciber,” Lucius said, “their father may have disgraced their house, yes, but they didn't have a choice. It's not too late for them to make the right one now.” His lips turned up into a snarl as he regarded Sirius, “get away from that blood traitor, (L/n), he'll rub off on you.”

You grit your teeth hard, preparing to cast a spell when Malfoy put his hand up in a silencing gesture, the pretentious little prat.

“Ah, you don't want to make any rash moves either, (L/n),” he said, looking to your left. You followed his gaze to see Avery coming out of the foliage, grappling with someone under his arm.

“Potter?!”

James smiled weakly as Avery held him in a choke hold, a bit of blood dripping down the side of his head.

“Hey,” he said, humor still light in his voice, “So, this didn't exactly work out as planned.” He groaned as Avery's elbow was driven into his stomach, effectively silencing him.

As soon as you tried to move towards him, Lucius had his wand pointed at you.

“Let him go and get lost, Malfoy,” you said lowly, “you've taken this far enough.”

“You've been avoiding us, (L/n),” Lucius said, ignoring you entirely, “Snape may have come up with some rubbish excuses for you earlier, but you can't keep running from this.”

“If practicing curses on first years and terrorizing other people is how you plan on using magic, then I don't want any part of your little cult,” you spat, “face it, Malfoy— you lot need me, but I don't need you.”

Lucius exhaled sharply, his genuine surprise at your resistance replaced quickly with anger.

“Think about what you're doing, (L/n),” he said, his eyes narrowing dangerously, “don't be a fool like your father.”

That did it.

With a growl you unleashed an orange bolt of energy from your wand, your Stupefy hitting Lucius square in the chest. Mulciber was quick to retaliate with a jinx of his own, which you quickly nullified with a shield charm. Shock flashed across his expression at your casual use of nonverbal magic, and he recovered one second too late.

Sirius was back on his feet, petrifying Mulciber and swatting Wilkes away like a fly with the knockback jinx before either could cast a spell at you. You and Sirius found yourselves back to back, fending off Lucius as he continued to direct a steady stream of curses in your direction. Sirius managed to create an opening for you and you turned to where James was being held.

“Evanossa!”

A flash of blue hit Avery, who shrieked in horror when he saw that the arm he was using to hold Potter had turned gelatinous, fingers drooping down like melting ice cream. James wasted no time paying him back in kind for roughing him up earlier, sending him flying into the oak tree and using the water from the Black Lake to freeze him there before joining you in the fray.

“Expelliarmus!” he called out, sending Wilke's wand spinning out of his reach and leaving only Malfoy against the three of you.

Lucius faltered for a moment as he stared down your group of three, but held fast.

“Leave it, Malfoy,” you said, “it's over.”

He growled under his breath, taking up an obvious offensive stance, but you were too quick.

“Ebublio!”

Lucius gasped as he suddenly found himself encased in a giant bubble, his knockback jinx ricocheting off the inside and hitting him in the back of the head. He pounded against the bubble in frustration but found it to be thick as Plexiglas and just as strong, unable to pop it. Suddenly, he was hoisted into the air as you raised your wand higher, directing him farther and farther away until he was hovering directly over the Black Lake.

“Let me go this instant!” he growled.

A devilish smile graced your features.

“You got it.”

“No, wait, don't you dar—AHH!!”

You turned your back on him, your breaking eye contact promptly bursting the bubble and sending him flailing into the water a few feet below.

You chuckled as you sent a few quick counter-jinxes out from your wand, restoring Mulciber's range of motion and liquefying the ice that trapped Avery.

As soon as Mulciber was unpetrified he took off running towards the Lake where Lucius was furiously treading water, tripping over his feet as he dragged Wilkes along with him. Avery limped after them, defrosted but still chilled to his bones (which you had been so kind to also restore).

“I'd fish him out quickly if I were you,” you called after them, “the giant squid is more active at night.”

“You're out of your mind, (L/n)!” Avery turned around and yelled, but with fear evident in his eyes, “You'll live to regret this, mark my words. The Headmaster—”

“Would love to know who cast the first spell, I'm sure,” you said darkly.

Avery stammered out some lame response under his breath before turning around and running after the rest of group, retreating.

Sirius turned to look at you, awestruck and chocked full of adrenaline. Maybe you really weren't so bad after all.

“That was. . .” James trailed off, grasping for the words and blurting them out as soon as he found them, “Brilliant, (Y/n). You're bloody brilliant.”

You felt your face heat up, not expecting that. You and James had stopped trading insults and threats (serious ones, anyways) and your teasing had become well meant, but neither of you had crossed the threshold of actually paying the other a compliment before.

“Thanks, Potter,” you said, unable to fight the smile on your face. You turned to Sirius briefly. “I hope this cleared some things up for us,” you said, “I'd really like to try and be friends, so. . .”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, wanting to kick himself at the way you turned him into a monosyllabic neanderthal with just a look. You gave him a small smile before turning back to James who was trying desperately to hide his limp and aching rib cage.

“Alright, let's get you to the hospital wing, Potter,” you sighed, “you look like a cheap action star in a muggle movie.”

“Uh,” James said nervously, “better we not. If I go to Madame Pomfrey three times in one day she'll never let me hear the end of it.”

“And who's fault is that?” You huffed, slinging an arm over his shoulder and helping him walk, “at least let me patch you up, then.”

Sirius followed some distance behind you, watching as you walked James back towards the castle and laughed at his occasional jokes. This one night had just turned everything upside down for Sirius. This whole time he was sure that he didn't like you because you were a blood-purist Slytherin and he was jealous that you were taking his best friend away from him; but the way you had stood up to Lucius and his goons made your position on blood politics very clear, and the tight feeling that struck Sirius' chest as he watched you cozy up with James made him reevaluate just which one of you he was jealous of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sirius?”

The man blinked, slowly coming back to reality. You were looking up at him in concern, your head resting lightly on his shoulder. It took an embarrassing amount of his willpower to keep from leaning forward just a few inches and kissing you.

Could you pick a worse time, you numbskull? He thought, mentally smacking himself for even thinking about it.

“Are you okay?” you asked hesitantly after he stayed silent.

“I'm alright,” he insisted, giving you a reassuring smile, “just. . . thinking about how far we've come.”

His answer surprised you, though not in a bad way.

“I suppose we have,” you smiled back, “this is a far cry from you scowling at me from across the Great Hall over your breakfast.”

“I did not scowl,” Sirius scoffed playfully, nudging you away with his shoulder.

“Right,” you grinned, “scowling, glaring, glowering, whichever you prefer.”

“I said I was sorry,” he said, putting his hands up in mock surrender, although you both knew you weren't really upset about it. You'd long since forgiven him for his initial misjudgment.

When your light laughter died down, your head found itself lulling to the side again, tiredness taking over your mind as you rested against Sirius once more. When you tilted your head up to look at him he had a surprisingly pensive look on his face. Your eyes traveled across his expression, his gray eyes almost taking on a deep shade of blue in the shadows of his room. You noticed how much younger he looked when he was smiling; it was in moments like these when it really set in how long you had known each other, because you could see the years in his eyes.

Your own flickered down to his lips in spite of yourself and Sirius' heart skipped a beat, fearing you could feel it racing in his rib cage. When had you turned him so soft? He chuckled inwardly. Long before he had fully come to terms with how he felt about you was the answer. Even when he was in Azkaban, with two of his closest friends dead and the world convinced he was at fault, even if he had to live with the fact that he would never see you again, he still thought of you, and that kept him alive, sane— himself. But now you were here in front of him, and he was terrified that at any moment you would vanish into thin air and he would find himself back in that horrible cinder block cell, face to face with a dementor as it took his last memories of you away from him.

Your hand squeezed his, almost as if you had read his thoughts— as if you were assuring him that you were real, and you weren't going anywhere. You noticed him leaning in closer, even if he didn't, possessed by some invisible force. You were nearly about to meet him halfway when you were suddenly startled apart by the sound of quick, heavy-footed steps bounding down the stairs.

You both looked at each other as if you had just awoken from some sort of trance, instinctively putting some distance between yourselves as you shifted away awkwardly.

“I. . . I should probably get to bed,” you said, your face warm.

“Right,” Sirius said, reluctantly getting up from his seat at the edge of his bed, “I've kept you up long enough, I'm sure you're tired. . .”

Before you left his room you turned over your shoulder, a small smile on your face.

“It's really good to see you again, Sirius,” you said earnestly, “we should catch up for real later.”

“Definitely,” he said, a bit of his old self reflected in that smirk of his, albeit forced.

You steeled yourself, turning the doorknob and closing the door behind you gently before you did something to ruin the friendship you had just gotten back after over a decade. You shook the thought aside, your head hurting. You really did need to sleep after today.

You were about to head into your room, but something in you didn't feel quite right. You'd definitely heard someone go down the stairs, but you hadn't heard the front door open or close. Dread pooled in your stomach at your gut feeling, and you found yourself inexplicably making your way back down the stairs.

The house was eerily silent now that its residents had either gone off to bed or disapparated until the next meeting in a few days time. You'd left Sirius upstairs, and you knew Harry was staying here for the time being until school began, but everyone else had gone home. So then why did you still feel someone else's presence so acutely?

You stared at the empty hallway leading to the front door, taking a cautious step forward; the image in front of you didn't feel real. The colors were too saturated, the edges too sharp, and the surfaces too smooth. And that's when it hit you. The smell of rain. Leather-bound books. Lavender.

You froze, staring at the seemingly empty space in front of you.

“Severus?”

The potions master didn't dare make a sound, thinly veiled behind his invisibility charm but clearly not well enough. He was standing not three feet in front of you, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last thing he would ever see.

He panicked slightly as he felt you reach out to him with your mind, shutting himself off expertly. Your hurt expression as you were unable to detect anything pained him, but he wouldn't dare think that he deserved to say anything to you. What was there to say after everything he'd done?

Your gaze roamed the empty hall, and for a moment he could have sworn you stared him right in the eyes.

You knew he was there.

The moment lasted no longer than a second before you looked away, turning to go back up the stairs. As soon as your back was facing the front door you heard it open then close gently, and the tears you had been fighting to hold back finally spilled over.

Read chapter 4 here !

Taglist: @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi

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cobaincreates · 3 years

Text

the fuck is a touron? pt. 2

warnings: language, mention of drugs & alcohol, smut (wrap it you're smart), very brief oral (male receiving), 18+

count: 9k+

part one is here! i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it! also remember when i said this has been sitting for a couple months?? welp, it’s been longer than that...oops. but it's all yours now!!! :)

taglist is always open. have a lovely weekend! photo cred

— — —

3 weeks earlier

a loud blare jolted you awake.

“what the fuck?”

you scrambled to stop the noise, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest. your head knocked into something hard as you twisted and tried to assemble your brain.

a clatter of what sounded like several bottles came from your right. the sound still rang out into the room—which was where exactly?

as you got to your hands and knees and shuffled against what felt like carpet, you remembered vaguely that you’d gone out last night. the carpet and dark room didn’t tell you much else. but the trilling alarm was enough to set you into a search to find that out.

“shut that off!” a voice yelled from behind you.

your hand knocked into more bottles and you grappled for one, feeling the familiar shape of a glass beer bottle. someone groaned in front of you then a blinding light pierced across your eyes. you sucked in a breath, dropping the bottle and covering your eyes.

what, were you a vampire? you peeked past your fingers to a parted curtain letting in a sliver of sunlight. you saw a little more of where you’d been, the light trail full of bottles and some sprawled legs and arms.

the alarm cut off suddenly. soft snores and labored breaths filled the silence now, along with a pounding in your ears so intense, you would’ve thought you were still hearing the alarm. a slow, gradual ache formed in the center of your forehead.

you blinked as your eyes adjusted to the light. a sparkling stiletto caught your attention, but it wasn’t on a foot. you looked around the room and spotted its twin near the back of a couch. crawling over, you found liza laying on her back with her hair messily splayed around her.

she was yawning while her phone lit up her face in a soft glow. when your eyes met, she whispered, “hey.”

you faintly remembered her setting an alarm on her phone somewhere in between jell-o shots and body shots. or was it after the jäger bombs?

you let out an oomf as you collapsed beside her on your stomach. your head didn’t let up the pounding. you made a noise, your words muffled against the stale-smelling carpet.

“what?” liza said, not having heard any coherent words.

you turned your head, the carpet scratching your cheek. “i said, nurse me back to health, please.”

“i told you not to do those lines,” she said, shaking her head.

“what?” you said a little too loudly, earning a few shh!s in return.

“i’m kidding,” liza laughed.

you grimaced, mostly at her but also at the hair in your mouth. you reached up to remove it and sat up while liza looked at her phone.

“what time is it?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder around the room.

no one else had moved from liza’s wake-up alarm. your vision was clearer now and you took in the trashed room. bottles lay everywhere, a few staining the carpet in dark puddles. a lamp was on the floor, its shade across the room over someone’s head. it was warm considering the blackout curtains keeping the morning sun out and you couldn’t imagine sleeping in here any longer.

your head pounded again as liza said, “noon.”

“can we go? i might throw up from how hot it is in here.” you pulled at your dress, wanting nothing more than to get under some cold water.

liza sat up and looked around, dropping her phone into her lap. “i need my other shoe.”

“it’s over here,” you said and crawled to retrieve it for her.

she put it on, her dress riding up her thighs before she stood and pulled it back down. you took her offered hand so she could help you up. your heels sank into the carpet and you looked down, finding a soggy spot where beer had seeped in. you frowned and grabbed ahold of liza’s arm to find your way out.

your small crossbody clutch was resting on the couch cushion and you reached for it over a girl’s sleeping form, careful not to wake her. she made a small noise and you snatched it quickly, feeling the weight of your phone inside.

liza ordered an uber to bring you back to campus. it was fifteen minutes away and you panicked for a brief moment from not knowing where the hell you were. last night was a whole blur apart from arriving and getting into the swing of things. you remember dancing and drinking and having fun with liza and a few other friends. it wasn’t usual for you to sleep at random people’s houses after parties, but last night must have been a little more eventful than others.

you let out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding as you sank into the back of the uber driver’s car. luckily, you didn’t get someone hopped up on coffee or blasting music. it was quiet and calm, enough so that you closed your eyes.

speaking of coffee, you could really use one. and food. and a shower. had you really slept on that nasty carpet last night? you shuddered and opened your eyes.

fishing out your phone from your clutch, you saw a few notifications from last night and the past few hours. you ignored them for now and unlocked your phone with the goal of texting one of your friends who worked at the diner in town and begging him to have your usual ready when you got there. it was all you could think about as your stomach rumbled.

but when you unlocked your phone, your eyebrows drew together. your screen opened to an internet tab, a little plane logo at the top corner.

“why the fuck did i buy a ticket to the outer banks?” you blurted to no one in particular. well, maybe to your friend beside you, who lived in the outer banks.

liza lolled her head toward you on the back of the seat, not at all looking as concerned as you felt. “you’re visiting, remember? i talked you into buying it last night.”

“why?” your head seemed to throb even worse.

you couldn’t go to the outer banks. you didn’t have the money for it and the ticket on your internet browser said you’d even bought a round trip one. god, why had you done that? you were saving up for the summer. you were saving up to see so much more than the outer banks. as much as you loved liza, and you knew she’d love to have you there, you would be wasting a weekend. how were you going to tell your boss that you needed off at such short notice?

liza shrugged beside you. “because my dad will be gone for a whole weekend and i’m throwing the biggest party ever and you love me and you promised to dance to ‘back that ass up’ with me there.”

“oh my god,” you groaned and dropped your phone into your lap. you rubbed your pulsing temples. “i can’t go, liza. i really need the money.”

“hence why you have a job—said job will pay that back in a week. you’re fine,” she waved her hand and turned back to the window.

“i need to work that weekend,” you argued. just thinking about asking for it off had your skin crawling.

“you can take time off. you never do.” liza shrugged, looking at you again. her face softened when she noticed how distraught you were over it. “look, if you really don’t want to, then just cancel it. it’s okay if you don’t come.”

your fingers came away from your head as you saw that she was being genuine. she may have joked around with you a lot, but she meant it when she said that.

friday

getting time off wasn’t easy. your boss acted like the ultimate villain in a boss level from a video game, having you go through all of these obstacles just to get three days off. you understood it, you were short-staffed anyways and it was hard, but you couldn’t help feeling as though they were a little harsh on you. it was always a fight to get time off, even when you showed up every day, on time, and did your work without complaint.

right after you talked to your boss, feeling the ultimate amount of shame over requesting three days, you searched high and low for someone to cover your shift. turns out, it wasn’t all that difficult to begin with since one of your co-workers—who just had a baby and was still a full-time student—told you they’d appreciate the extra hours. you felt instantly better afterward until your boss asked you to fill out three separate sheets for the time off. no, you couldn’t just write the three days on one sheet. it had to be three. separate. sheets.

it was completely ridiculous and uncalled for. you fumed for a while, pressing way too hard on your pen as you filled them out. once you set them on their desk, all filled out properly, you reminded yourself you could quit soon. just a few more months of the semester and you’d be gone.

the next day when you came in, your boss had allegedly lost those request papers. and funnily enough, they allowed you to put the weekend dates on one paper this time. you’d stared at them for a whole three minutes, paper in your hand and tongue between your teeth with angry words just dying to get out. you can quit soon. you can quit soon.

the weeks dragged by before the day finally arrived and you left for your flight. it was only when you got off the plane that the hours started to fly by. it was colder this time around, which you didn’t mind, even on the breezy ferry ride. you were looking forward to campfires and cozy sweaters.

you hopped off the ferry around noon and right into liza’s waiting arms at the dock. she was overjoyed about you visiting and you knew all the trouble with work was worth it just to get away for a little. you were young, there was no shame in a little time off, and liza was right—you’d already earned the money back for the ticket.

liza’s dad was bustling around their house when you arrived, packing like a crazy person on a time crunch. he threw a hello at you as he shuffled past with an armful of socks and possibly underwear, which had you lifting an eyebrow at liza. she shoved your arm and took your bag into the guest bedroom.

“where’s your dad running off to? can i go?” you teased, dropping your backpack onto the light green comforter. the white walls seemed brighter this time, but you accounted it for the new sheer curtains over the windows facing the back of the house.

“he’s going on a business trip. and no, you can’t. his girlfriend is going with him.” liza left your bag near the dresser and hopped on the bed, the comforter sighing under her weight.

“girlfriend? aw, man.” you frowned dramatically and lay on your stomach beside her. “do we like this girlfriend?”

“she’s very...” her left eye squinted as she thought. “eccentric. like, i don’t know how to take it. he seems happy though.”

“like, weird eccentric or crazy eccentric?”

“i don’t know. i haven’t breached the abortion topic with her yet. that could be very telling, don’t you think?” a playful smile hinted at her lips.

“totally telling,” you agreed.

minutes later, you were waving liza’s dad off as he pulled out of the driveway, liza standing a few steps in front of you. once he was gone and out of sight down the drive, liza turned back to you with a flourish and a cheshire grin spread on her face. you laughed as she pushed you into the house and began jumping excitedly. music started playing somewhere in between the jumping, which promptly turned to dancing in the kitchen. having a whole house to yourselves was always a thrilling thing.

it wasn’t long after that that liza told you to get ready for a party at the boneyard, as she called it. you had no idea whether to take that literally or just go along with it and be surprised. you went with the latter as you changed out of your airport clothes.

as you were heading that way, you thought about that one fling you had the last time you were here. what was his name? something rich, with a t. tom? trenton? no, no, something obscure. topper. god, you nearly forgot about him, but now that you were visiting again, you wondered if he was around. in the middle of the semester seemed like your luck would be out.

liza was slowing the car as you thought to text topper, just to see if he was here. you hadn’t talked since that summer—what was it? seven months ago? you hadn’t felt the need to keep in touch. didn’t he say to shoot him a text when you were in town again? you supposed there was no harm in doing so. what could be the worst thing to happen? maybe he wouldn’t be in town, but you wouldn’t be all that bummed about not having a hookup. you weren’t as ravenous as you were in the summer.

“are you getting out?”

your head turned and you found liza standing with the door open, her keys dangling from her hand. you hadn’t noticed that the car had parked or that you’d arrived at wherever the boneyard was. the beach was right in front of you, just over a small crest in the sand. you could smell it slipping into the car from where liza held the door propped open.

you opened your own door and hopped out, the gravel crunching under your shoes. you were glad you opted for a sweater with the early spring wind from the water as it blew over your shoulders and tangled into your hair.

a handful of people were already on the beach, stripped driftwood scattered around. most used them as seats while there was a fire already going and drinks in their hands. you couldn’t help but smile at the sight, a giddiness filling your chest. this was exactly what you needed and the perfect setting for it.

liza pulled you into a group with some familiar faces that you had met the last time around. small talk was immediately flowing and you couldn’t care less for it, but you welcomed it anyways. liza was quick to guide you to the next group and the next before you finally got comfortable with a drink in hand. you sipped it steadily and ditched your shoes with liza’s, sticking them under a piece of driftwood behind where you stood. one of liza’s friends was asking you about your degree, something along the lines of why you had chosen it. you couldn’t comprehend it fully as your eyes drifted around the sand where people stood in small groups and larger ones.

standing near an overturned lifeguard post that was sure to be rotting away was none other than topper. he was facing away from you, but you had no doubt in your mind that it was him. his hair was blonder than it was when you met, funnily enough in the colder months. he wore a sweatshirt (blue or dark green, you couldn’t tell) paired with shorts and (surprisingly) sneakers.

you turned back to liza’s friend, giving them a somewhat vague but good answer. you then excused yourself and split from the group to head in topper’s direction. you stopped just outside of his larger group and crossed your arms, holding on to your beer by the neck loosely. it took a minute or two for topper to notice you, obviously feeling a presence behind him and doing a double-take. you already had a smirk on your face.

“holy shit, hi.” he blinked rapidly, turning away from his friends.

“hi,” you laughed. both of you went in for a hug at the same time. topper pressed your waist firmly to his while you hugged him around his shoulders.

“it’s good to see you,” you said.

“yeah, you too.” there was surprise in his voice and features as if he never thought he would see you again. your hand slipped down his arm as you pulled away before you took a step back, your hands resting at your sides.

“how have—“

“hey! the touron’s back!” a voice over his shoulder shouted.

you looked in its direction, finding a menacing smirk on an all too familiar face. you couldn’t remember his name as he sipped arrogantly on a beer, perched on the rotting lifeguard’s post.

you found your own sweet smile and raised your free hand to flip him off, which only egged him on more as his laughter filtered out. you were instantly annoyed, although you didn’t show it as he had brought unwanted attention to you and topper. you were sure most of the people in this larger group had been on topper’s deck that day in the summer.

topper looked at a loss for words when you turned back to him, his eyes still on you. you were glad he wasn’t laughing at his friend’s comment.

“can i get you another drink?” he gestured to the bottle between your fingers and you glanced down, seeing that it was a sip away from empty.

you gave him a nod as you said, “sure.”

the sun was setting by the time you got a refill, the glass cold against your palm, and wandered off with topper toward the water. conversation flowed as you caught up, shrugging as you told him all you had been doing was working and studying. you were lucky if you got to go out and have fun once in a while. topper expressed the same, talking animatedly about college and visiting home for the weekend to see his friends.

you wondered what he was like at college, if he spent most of his quieter hours in the library reading articles or if he was the type of friend to take up guard in the kitchen at parties. it was easy to imagine him in those situations since you hardly knew him. his smirking friend certainly didn’t seem the type.

you flicked some wet sand into the water, imagining the waves bringing it back to settle at your feet. topper stood beside you, the wind tousling his locks. you had just mentioned how your mother had bought a new coffee machine and how your dad canceled it because there was no point in having two. your mother just figured it would be easier having two so no one had to wait on the single-cup brewing system. it made you laugh and roll your eyes when you heard about it over the phone. topper had been smiling the whole time as he listened, his head inclined like you were whispering.

a rush of heat had slithered down between your thighs when you caught his eyes a couple times. he was just watching you as you spoke and you couldn’t help but smile flirtatiously, wondering if he was thinking what you were thinking.

how you were imagining last summer and the feel of his hands on your skin. you wished you’d gotten to know more of him; if he had any scars or little beauty marks that you didn’t notice the first time. it was easy to imagine it, but you had the burning curiosity to see for yourself.

you needed to take a break, to get a gulp of air before you drowned in the thought and jumped his bones right here and now.

“i should go find liza,” you said abruptly even though no one had been speaking. “i’ll see you around?”

topper nodded without a word and you caught a glimpse of confusion on his face, but you walked away. you let out a deep breath as you felt the wet sand turn dry under your feet. the sky was an inky pink behind you, windshields on cars reflecting it back.

you wrapped an arm around liza when you found her and she smiled knowingly. you didn’t have to ask if she’d seen you with topper, it was quite obvious in such an open area.

topper took up his place with the group you took him away from, but this time he was facing your way. you closed your lips around your bottle, staring back at him as he did the same thing. a shiver went up your legs, goosebumps exposing to the crisp air around you. you had to look away before you walked over there and kissed the hell out of him. your heart was behaving rather poorly now.

but could you help it? every time he looked at you as the sky grew darker and the bonfire grew larger, every obscene image possible took shelter behind your eyes. your mouth dried out so many times that you eventually had to get another drink and another. topper wasn’t making it easy and you started digging holes with your feet just to stay put.

you wouldn’t go to him, you made that very clear to yourself. if topper wanted you, then he’d have to make the first move. stubborn as it was maybe, but you’d torture him if you had to like he was torturing you now with all of these looks under his lashes. christ.

“my god,” liza said into your ear as she stood on the driftwood behind you, arms around your neck. “you’d think topper was a starving man.”

“shut up,” you laughed and looked at a fallen log in the fire pit.

“i’m serious. you guys have been undressing each other for an hour and a half now. just go over there and make out with him.”

you smiled into your drink, keeping your eyes far away from topper, or else you might actually do just that.

“there’s hardly any pda going on as it is, we need entertainment,” liza sighed.

“there’s your entertainment,” you nodded your head toward a rowdy group of young high schoolers shouting at each other. three of them looked angry as all hell and there was a bit of shoving before one of the older college boys broke it apart.

“that was short-lived,” liza frowned as she hopped down from the driftwood.

“you want another drink?” you asked her as she finished off her last one.

“yes, please!” she beamed as you took her bottle and tossed them into a nearby trash bin. you headed for the stocked cooler and grabbed two beers. as you stood, topper was making his way over.

“you have any plans after this?” he asked without much preamble.

you smiled, pulling the tops off and taking a sip from your own, eyeing him as you did. that flicker of heat made its way back between your thighs, warming you all over. you couldn’t deny the suggestion in his question excited you and you were giving yourself a mental pat on the back for being patient.

“nope, i’m all yours.”

topper smiled slowly, his eyes flicking to your lips as you licked them. okay, maybe jumping his bones here and now wasn’t a terrible idea. but you needed to string this out, you wanted it to last—whatever it was.

“i don’t want to leave yet though. i’ll come find you?” it implied that you’d make him wait longer than you really would, but it was satisfying to see him practically drool at the thought of what was to come.

liza was giddy when you went back over, either for the beer or when you told her that you’d be going off with topper for a little. she smirked, knowing exactly what for, but she didn’t mind. she wasn’t leaving anytime soon, and not without you.

you didn’t make topper wait long. when you were ready, another beer in and a relieved bladder, you touched topper’s elbow as he talked with his friends closer to the cooler. the ice was partly melted, but there were still plenty of drinks left. the fire was feeding off sweltering heat, and with the cold wind, it was perfect.

“hey, you ready?” you asked when topper turned to you.

you weren’t sure exactly what topper had in mind when he had asked you if you were busy for the rest of the night, but not having a clue thrilled you a little.

“yeah,” he nodded and took the last sip from his beer. his slid his hand up, capturing yours before tugging you along toward the parked cars. hardly anyone was over there. you could faintly hear voices and sounds from inside a few cars, some windows cracked. your fingertips warmed as your heart beat, pushing blood to every corner.

topper’s jeep came in sight and you tried to remember the inside. was there enough room for both of you in the back seat? or maybe you’d share one of the front ones. it didn’t matter to you, as long as he put his lips to use.

your back met the side of the jeep as topper leaned his hands on the window, caging you in. you were quick to close the space between you, either the beer taking the reins or your lack of patience from the past few hours of being here and having a staring contest with him. your breaths mingled and your hands grabbed fistfuls of his sweatshirt to pull him closer. the familiar tingles spread between your thighs and you wasted no time in showing him how impatient you were.

“i don’t think either of us is fit enough to drive, topper,” you breathed when you had the chance.

there was no way you could drive with everything you drank. topper tasted like the beer too, but you weren’t sure if he was fit enough to drive either. you didn’t want to chance it, nor could you wait that long.

“what do you want to do?” he asked against the skin of your neck, his nose skimming up the side. he pressed a few kisses, getting closer to your jaw.

you tilted your head back against the door and sighed, closing your eyes momentarily then opening them to find a few stars winking at you. there were so many once you focused on them. topper interrupted your gaze, pulling you by the back of your head to his lips. he kissed you as if you were his last meal, his tongue licking into your mouth. you moaned, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair. you remembered him being this much of a good kisser.

“let’s find a spot on the beach,” you suggested, only getting a kiss on the corner of his mouth before he pulled away.

his eyes were blown wide, his hair ruffled. if you looked hard enough, his cheeks were sure to be flushed, both from alcohol and excitement.

“seriously?” he asked, his hand stilling on the back of your head.

you laughed and nodded, brushing a lock of his hair. “yeah, why not?”

a cold wind blew, tossing your hair into your eyes. topper caught it and pushed it back to its spot behind your ear.

“i think you’re the girl of my dreams,” he joked.

you grinned and slid your hands down his chest. “do you have a towel?”

topper had to pick his jaw up off the gravel before he finally moved away from you and opened his jeep. he ruffled around in the back then finally pulled out a blanket.

“very resourceful,” you commented as he closed the door.

“never know when you might need it,” he said as he threw it around you, shielding your bare legs from the wind. he turned again to the jeep and bent over the driver’s seat to get something. you saw it was a condom when he turned back and closed the door.

“also resourceful.”

he laughed then took your hand back in his. you headed back toward the beach but in the opposite direction of where the bonfire was. it was quieter the further you got, nothing but the waves coming into the shore. it was darker too; all the more private.

topper took the blanket from you and settled it down. you took a seat as he fixed a corner, swiping sand that had gotten on to it. once he sat beside you, he pulled you back against his lips.

you knelt up and scooted closer, placing your hands on his shoulders for leverage as you swung a leg over his waist. you sat in his lap and hummed as you felt him against your thigh. he squeezed you closer in response.

“i’ve never fucked someone on a beach before,” you admitted as you slipped your hands under his sweatshirt and the t-shirt beneath, pushing them up.

“i’ve never fucked anyone outside before.”

“what?” you pulled away to look down at him, your hands freezing on his chest. he was breathing deeply and you swore you felt the patter of his heart against your fingertips. “really?”

“yeah,” he shrugged and glanced over your shoulder toward the water. “just never had the chance to try.”

“what do you mean? you live on an island.” you let his clothes fall back down, stopping above his belly button. “i’ve been here twice and i’ve seen at least twenty ideal places that would be perfect for it.”

“i don’t know, i never asked anyone and no one asked me.” he shrugged again and you knew you were looking way too into this, but it seemed impossible that he hadn’t done this at least once before. you knew that if you lived here, you would’ve done it countless times.

your hands slid back up. “well, tonight’s your lucky night.”

you pulled topper back to your lips, tongues meeting. his hands rubbed along your back and you couldn’t help but arch into him as he slipped them beneath your sweater. his hands were so warm that it felt as if he set fire to your skin. you moaned and sunk your teeth into his lip briefly. a shiver wrecked your body just as topper’s hands came around to your front, sliding up to your breasts. you felt your nipples peek at the contact and topper made it even worse when his thumbs brushed over them.

“christ, it’s cold,” you mumbled as another shiver came and went.

“mhmm,” he hummed. “i’m sure that’s what it is.”

you laughed and wanted to swat at him. instead, you swallowed that little bit of nerves edging close to the surface and reached a hand to his lap. you watched as topper’s lips parted as your hand squeezed him over his shorts. the fabric was soft as topper grew harder. you relished in his expression, the way his eyebrows were drawn together, and how his jaw flinched when he closed his mouth.

topper’s hands fell away as you stood. he looked ready to pull you back down until he realized what you were doing and watched closely as you pulled your shorts and underwear down together. you kicked them aside and shivered as another wind blew.

sitting over topper again, you knelt up onto your knees to pull his shorts down. you couldn’t help swallowing at the sight of him. as dark as it was, you could still see him pretty well. your hand wrapped around him, solid and warm in your palm. topper groaned and leaned back on his hands.

“where’s the condom?” you asked as you stroked him, not at all in a rush with your hand around him.

topper registered your question and patted around the blanket for a moment before holding a square packet between his fingers. you took it from him and bit down on an edge, ripping it open with your free hand. you took the rubber between your fingers and spat the packaging somewhere. topper’s breathing became swallow all the while you stroked him. you stopped and rolled the condom onto him then leaned forward for a kiss.

topper reciprocated, his hands grabbing ahold of your hips until he pulled away to look up at you.

“what if you get sand in your vagina?” he asked, an innocent tone wrapping around his voice.

you couldn’t help the smile or the way your eyebrows furrowed all the while wanting to laugh. that’s what he’s thinking about?

“nothing that hasn’t happened before. it usually takes a couple of days to get rid of but i’ll be fine.”

the topic didn’t stop there. “does it hurt?”

“no, i’ll be fine,” a small laugh slipped out. “that’s why we have a blanket. and i’m on top. can we stop talking about sand getting in my vagina now? it’s kind of killing the mood.”

“sorry,” he shook his head, an embarrassed expression taking form.

you snorted, laughter bubbling up your throat. how did that question even come about in his head? you supposed it was nice of him to care about such a thing. you hoped your laughter didn’t make him feel more embarrassed.

his expression morphed into an amused one and he joined in, laughing at his odd question. you both shook with laughter for a few moments until you calmed down. topper squeezed his fingers on your hips, dragging his palms down your thighs. you brought your lips back to his and your hands to his chest. pushing him gently, you went with him as he lay down. you stayed against him for a couple more seconds before sitting up over him and finding him in your hand again.

topper groaned and gripped your thighs as you brought him into your heat. you couldn’t find your breath as you took him all the way in and sat over him, feeling completely and utterly filled. he was in your stomach, under your skin, everywhere.

“fuck, yes,” you panted, branding your palms on his stomach, pushing his sweatshirt and shirt up again. he was flushed from head to toe, something you were slowly building up to be.

you started off rocking back and forth slowly, feeling him pull and glide inside of you. when you dragged your clit against his skin, which was getting hotter and hotter with the friction, you couldn’t help the way your body tightened around him.

“y/n. oh, fuck—you gotta bounce for me,” topper choked out underneath you, moving his hands to your waist to grip tightly.

you nodded without words, not really finding any with your tongue tied. your hands pushed against his stomach as you lifted yourself up, letting almost all of him leave you empty. then you slammed down, moaning as loud as you could. you didn’t care. not one bit. you were still aware of the bonfire happening yards away, but you didn’t care if someone from the party was walking this way and heard you. let them hear how good topper felt inside you.

a quicker pace was set, sweat building in the creases of your knees and under your hands planted against topper. you loved this. all you could think about was how good it felt, how you fucked topper hard and fast—and how you were getting to fuck him again. it was so much better than the first time, even though you loved having him behind you then. this was just as good.

topper was sitting up again, your sweater rubbing against his and your body feeling way too hot. his hands gripped your ass tightly, helping you rock your hips over him. you were close, closer every time your clit brushed against him at this angle.

it became too much very quickly. you held on to him by his hair at the back of his head, gripping so tightly your knuckles were probably white, and reached your other hand down to touch yourself. your moans were growing higher and more frequent and topper was full-blown panting in your face. when you reached your end, a strangled sound came out of you. you stilled over topper, pulling more of his hair as you came over him.

not long after when you were moving again over him, your mouth on his neck and arms around his shoulders, his grip tightened on your ass as he came. you hummed and gave a few pecks just before he let go and fell onto his back. you followed, moving off of him and laying on your side.

“how long are you here?” topper asked minutes later, his breathing leveling out.

“i leave sunday morning,” you said, blinking tired eyes open as a wind blew over you.

“can i see you again?”

you smiled, your eyes shifting to topper beside you. “don’t you mean can you fuck me again?”

his lips spread wide and if his eyes were open, you had a feeling he’d be rolling them. laughing, you pushed yourself onto your elbow and touched his cheek.

“liza is having a party tomorrow. you should come,” you said quietly, leaning down to brush your lips over his.

“okay.”

“that was easy.”

“it doesn’t take much to convince me,” his voice was tired, piquing your interest.

“am i that good?”

all you got in return was a low laugh.

“i’m taking that as a ‘hell yes’ so thank you very much.”

topper let out a noise just before he moved, pushing you onto your back. his lips landed over yours, gentle and thorough.

saturday

it was a blur of drinks and games and dancing at liza’s house. every room was filled and it was hot for a few hours until you stationed yourself out on the deck with topper. you could lie and say that you didn’t sit out there just to make out with him, but that’s exactly what you did. it was perfect—even more perfect when his shitty friends didn’t show up with him. if you hadn’t been so distracted by his mouth, you would’ve thanked him then and there.

hours later, you had met topper at the front door. you informed liza of your new plans and she was more than happy to get you out of her hair, especially when her eyes latched on to someone and she started to drool into her drink. you grinned fiendishly at her and quickly went on your way.

topper was unlocking his front door and your legs were still a little tingly from the drinks you had over the past few hours. your hand absentmindedly ran along his forearm, needing to feel him so you could stay grounded and alert.

“if you don’t open this door, i’m going to fall asleep right on this porch.”

topper laughed, his keys jingling in his hand. it was a few more seconds of him trying without a light until he eventually found the keyhole and the door swung open. there was a rug that the bottom of the door brushed over and topper walked ahead of you, leading you in by the arm you refused to let go of. he was warm and solid. if you let go, you might evaporate.

your eyes adjusted with the lack of light in the entryway as topper closed the door behind you, sliding the lock into place. your skin felt like it was humming, the hairs on your arm standing up as you stayed close to topper. his shoes scuffed as he kicked them off, his keys dropping onto a table near the door while his other hand wrapped around your wrist. he lured you in by heat alone and you leaned in. your lips landed on his shirt, but you moved them until you found warm skin past the neckline.

reaching down, you found the strap of your sandals and worked to get them undone. why you wore sandals was completely lost on you as you struggled. topper grabbed ahold of you so you wouldn’t fall while your lips pressed a few more kisses into his neck. his hands were searing against your shirt and your skin pricked with the need to have them everywhere.

you kicked off your shoes, feeling your bare foot brush other pairs as topper grabbed ahold of your neck. you didn’t know where he was leading you until his lips landed against your cheek. he adjusted to where he meant to land and opened your lips with his own, coaxing your tongue with his. you moaned as if you were melting, your hands moving along his back as your body relaxed into his. another noise slipped from you, your hands moving down to his hips. one of them you let venture further until you felt him straining against his jeans.

topper gasped, his breath fanning over your mouth and down your neck. you grinned as you squeezed him just so you could see how he’d react.

it was cut short by light flooding the room and burning behind your eyelids. you flinched, parting from topper and squinting.

you were doing so well with no interruptions.

“topper? oh—i’m sorry,” a voice came from your left and you held your eyes open long enough to see a woman standing there, her hand falling from the light switch.

you suddenly remembered where you were holding topper and you dropped your hand, a hot blush crawling up onto your cheeks. you shuffled away from topper faster than he did at composing himself. was it wishful thinking to hope this woman didn’t see where your hand was placed a second ago?

“mom,” topper breathed, hiding his lack of breath well. your own heart was beating so loudly in your ears you figured the woman could hear it too in the entryway.

you averted your eyes, embarrassment dousing you from head to toe at the fact that you’d been caught by topper’s mother.

“we’ll be in my room,” topper said. his hand engulfed yours and you couldn’t remember how to use your feet or legs. “night.”

you kept your head down as topper tugged you past his mother, her robe flowing with the movement. he guided you through the unlit house until you came to his room.

“christ,” he sighed and dropped your hand to close the door. “i’m sorry about that.”

“it’s inevitable when you live with parents,” you shrugged and laughed, looking over your shoulder as topper rubbed his hands down his face. when he dropped them, he shook his head with an amused smile.

you turned back to his room and glanced around, the light a little brighter from the open windows. the decorations were the same, but for the most part it didn’t look all that lived in. you moved to his bed and sat at the end of it, running your hands along the comforter and remembering the last time you were here.

your eyes found topper’s like a magnet. your skin pricked with that awareness of him. reaching, you pulled your shirt off and let it fall beside you. topper watched, his eyes following every movement you made, his gaze moving over you like liquid.

you held your hand out towards him, coaxing him over where you sat. he approached until he was in front of you and even then, you pulled him closer with your hands on his hips again. your eyes fluttered shut as he came between your legs and touched your face, bending down to plant kisses on your forehead, cheeks, and nose. your thighs tightened around him, your hand dropping back to its original spot before you were interrupted. topper kissed you on the mouth then, his tongue hot and invading.

you pushed your palm into him a few times and rubbed until his breath was heavy in your mouth. even though you were kissing him and delighting in the ways he could use his tongue, your mouth felt dry for him. a moment later, your fingers glided up to the button of his jeans, working determinedly to unfasten them.

when his shirt was off and his jeans were unbuttoned, you nudged him backward, slipping from the bed and onto your knees. you pressed your lips along his stomach, feeling it tighten under your mouth as his hands brushed your hair back.

“tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” you said quietly, looking up at him as your fingers fisted the waistband of his jeans, slipping into his boxers too.

topper heaved a breath and nodded. you pressed another kiss just beside his belly button as you tugged on his bottoms, pulling them past his hips and leaving them to rest just above his knees.

you didn’t waste any more time. you took him into your mouth within the first few seconds of him smacking his stomach. he moaned with your lips around him and held your face as you licked him thoroughly. you couldn’t stop once you started and it took everything in you not to give him that release as his hand tightened on your face and his hips began to move.

he didn’t protest or get upset when you pulled away, licking your lips and standing. he just kissed you deeply and you wondered if he liked the taste of himself in your mouth. you certainly did.

all of your blood was gathered at your center. your skin was bubbling to a boil and topper helped you cool down, shedding the rest of the clothes between you. your hands wandered all over him as you sat back on the bed, pulling him with you.

you separated for only a second to kiss just under his ear, panting, “i want you inside me. now. i have an IUD.”

topper’s hands paused, his fingertips brushing the underside of your breast. “no condom?” he asked, pulling away further to meet your eyes.

you nodded, biting your lip to keep from putting him inside you now. “as long as you’re okay with it?”

“are you sure?” his eyebrows furrowed and you couldn’t tell if he was worried about you or if he really didn’t want to.

you nodded again as you were having trouble finding words without your breath. “have you been tested lately?”

“before i came home. i’m clean,” he said, his hands moving again and squeezing your thighs.

you grinned as your stomach rolled. you pulled him back to you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and smiling against his lips. “me too,” you managed to say and laughed as the excitement poured over.

topper’s skin suddenly felt too hot, but you couldn’t pull your hands away from him if you tried. more blood rushed in between your legs. topper kissed you a few times before pulling away and leaning forward, his hand moving to your lower back to hold you upright while his other landed on the comforter to hold himself up. you drew your legs up around him and tugged him closer, breathing heavily as you anticipated his next move.

he swallowed thickly and averted his eyes down, his hand leaving your skin to grab ahold of himself. you bit your lip as you watched, seeing him swollen and ready and practically dripping. your stomach rolled into a tight ball as his hips grew closer and you bit your lips shut as a noise of surprise left you, floating around the room, when topper dragged his head along your folds painstakingly slow.

as much as you wanted to close your eyes to completely let your senses take over, you lifted them to topper’s face. he closed his eyes as he poked his head at your entrance. when he started to slip inside slowly, his mouth opened and his hand went back to hold you. you held your breath as you felt him inch after inch, filling you and stretching you.

his head fell to your shoulder once he was completely inside, a muffled curse leaving his lips.

“oh my god,” you said at the same time as he said, “god, you feel amazing.”

his hips retracted slowly, just as slow as how he entered, and his lips guided back to yours.

“c-can you move back a little?” he asked. the angle was probably straining him unlike you.

you nodded and didn’t have to do all that much as his hand kept you close to him, keeping himself inside of you, as you moved further onto the bed. you laid on your back and moaned as topper started to move, pinning your hips below his.

“you need to be quiet,” he said.

“why?”

“because my mom is right down the hall.”

“so? she obviously knows what we’re doing.”

“still.”

“oh, topper,” you moaned a little louder, a smile curling the corners of your lips.

topper’s hand landed over your mouth. you laughed into his palm and opened up to bite on his finger.

“you should move that hand a little lower,” you suggested, rolling your hips into his.

topper laughed breathily and a moment later, moved his hand to your neck. his hips drew back then and he thrusted, harder than before.

“oh, fuck,” you panted, tightening your hold on him.

“you like that?” he asked, his fingers flexing on your throat.

“mhm,” you managed, your face screwing up. “just like that.”

you sucked in a gasp, your breath staying in your lungs as topper did it again. you couldn’t look at him, couldn’t do anything but feel everything he was doing to you from your throat to him between your thighs. your back arched, pushing your breasts into his chest. you cried out the next time he thrust, hitting you so deeply, your nipples peeked to hardened points. fuck.

“don’t stop,” you couldn’t stop gasping. “please, don’t stop. it feels so good.”

tears pricked your eyes as he did it again, picking up a rhythm and sticking to it. his hand let go of your throat and gathered your hands into his, pinning them above your head as he fucked into you. the harder he went, the more your nails dug into the backs of his hands. his fingers tightened over yours and you cried out with your hips smacking. he didn’t cover your mouth this time, suddenly not caring if his mom heard you. you didn’t care either, you wanted this to go on all night. hopefully it would.

tears spilled when he didn’t let up his grip or his pace. they fell more as he drove into you quicker. it hurt so good, you couldn’t breathe. you didn’t dare open your eyes to see if he was enjoying it too. you hoped he was, you hoped he was loving pinning your hands down, driving into you like an animal. you didn’t know topper had this in him.

his hand let go of one of yours but you left it where it was as his thumb flicked your clit. your breaths grew higher within seconds and you tightened around him, your free hand flying to his arm where your nails dug in deep. you couldn’t stop the cry bubbling in your chest even if you wanted to. it was going to come out whether you liked it or not and topper wasn’t doing anything to muffle it.

“fuck—i’m going to come,” he sighed, his voice strained. was he losing it too? “come for me, please, baby. come with me.”

“top—” your muscles spasmed and everything exploded. you cried out his name however many times as you came over him, feeling him do the same as he thrusted and emptied inside you. his spurts were heavy and warm as his face buried into your neck, his mouth slick one moment then his teeth latching on to you. you grabbed the back of his head and pulled at his hair as he bit you, not hard enough to break the skin, but it still hurt so good.

“oh my god,” you panted as topper lay limp on you. you could feel both of your orgasms dissipating as your juices mixed and dripped out of you.

having let go of your neck, topper licked over the pulsing spot and lifted his head up to look down at you.

“are you okay?” he asked, sweat collected along his hairline. his thumb brushed your drying tears away.

“that was—i—topper,” you shook your head, wishing you could find the words. “i feel very good right now.”

he laughed, shaking your body with his and making you moan as you felt him rub inside of you. “i’m glad,” he said, kissing the underside of your jaw. “i think we need water and snacks so i’m going to go get some.”

“mmm. that’s a good idea.” you couldn’t bring yourself to wipe his sweat away just to feel it on your fingertips. you were spent.

he smiled and pecked your numb lips before sliding out of you and getting up.

cleaned up and under the covers, topper laid out an array of snacks and water bottles. you sat propped up against his pillows while he lay on his side, his head propped against his hand.

“will you come back next summer?” he asked, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth.

you reached for the cereal bowl of chocolate and stopped the smile from stretching across your face. “maybe.”

“i was looking for an answer more along the lines of yes.”

“you’ll have to be more persuasive then,” you hummed and chewed.

“i can be persuasive.” he was grinning and you couldn’t help thinking that he never looked better. tired, hair messy, dressed in just boxers, completely sated.

“oh yeah?” you raised a brow at him.

“mhmm,” he nodded, putting the fruit down and moving onto his hands and knees to crawl towards you. he grabbed ahold of the comforter and pulled it back a little, revealing your chest to the cool air. his head lowered to press a single kiss to the swell of your breast. then he moved to the other. he pressed a final kiss to your shoulder.

“how’s that?”

you shrugged the shoulder he just kissed and kept the smile off your face. mostly.

topper grinned again and it reached his eyes. he looked over you, down your chest, then slid his hand under the blanket to your thigh. “am i getting closer?”

you gasped and grabbed onto the back of his neck as his fingers ran up the inside of your thigh. heat swirled between your legs. “definitely.”

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#topper thornton #outer banks #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton x fem!reader #topper thornton obx #topper thornton smut #topper thornton imagine

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mrsbbridgerton · 3 years

Text

A Hint of Gossip // Benedict Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Part 4 of the If You’ll Have Me Series

Word Count : 1614

A/N: I’ve collated A Gentleman’s Eye, A Second Chance and An Artist’s Touch into a series called If You’ll Have Me (link above) this is part 4 to that and I’ll post a final part soon :)

You’d never really liked Society. You’d always blamed it for your marriage to your husband, the late Duke of Pembrokeshire, but after your year of mourning and six months of sculking in the shadows of London Society you thought it best you re-emerge now lest gossip start. That, and Benedict had badgered you mercilessly about how boring evenings were without you there. So, you donned one of your favourite gowns, a simple deep plum silk with a fine cream lace, fixed your diadem and steeled yourself for, no doubt, the whole of the Ton’s glare.

You arrived at the Viscount and Viscountess Frankland’s ball purposefully as the first dance had already commenced as to not garner too much attention. Unfortunately, as you entered the ballroom you could hear the audible gasps of gossiping mama’s; whipping their heads around as you turned to look at them. Taking a turn around the room you diligently avoided the gazes of everyone you walked past, stopping at the food table to grab a glass of lemonade and inspect the canapes.

“Y/N! Darling!” you heard a smug, haughty voice bellow towards you. You turned abruptly to see Lady De Vere barging several poor ladies out of the way to reach you. “Lady Cynthia, how nice to see you again.” You gritted out, trying your best to mellow your displeasure. “Oh you poor thing, it was simply dreadful to hear that dear Percival had died.” She seemed to announce to the entire room making you rather suspect that if Baron’s wife had not been her destiny a life on stage might have been a calling. You smiled and hummed in general agreement as she continued to gesticulate wildly, blithering on about god knows what. A crowd parted behind her and you looked over her shoulder to see a formation of Bridgerton’s gliding towards you; lead by Benedict with Violet coming up on his flank, looking ready to take the boisterous Baroness out.

“Your Grace.” Benedict crooned, bowing to kiss your hand with a smirk. The Baroness was quickly shuffled out of the way with a glare from Violet. The Bridgerton siblings greeted you as one, sharing matching smiles as they glanced sideways to see Benedict still smiling at you. “Delighted to make your acquaintance Your Grace, Benedict has spoken very highly of you.” Violet smiled “I understand you met at an art exhibition: Benedict has always loved to draw, I understand you commissioned him for a portrait not too long ago?” she continued, wrapping her arm in his so he could not escape.

“Mother.” Benedict scolded. Their interaction made you smile and you rather suspected that the Dowager Viscountess was playing matchmaker for her son. Little did she know that she needn’t bother: Ever since those wonderful two weeks Benedict had spent at Pembroke House you were sure that you would not let yourself be courted by any other, should anyone decide to. The conversation continued around you and whilst you were glad of the company your eye couldn’t help but drift to Benedict. His eyes were already on yours and he held your gaze coyly as you shared fleeting glances over your party. “Mother” Benedict interrupted suddenly “I wonder if I might steal Her Grace for a dance. If you wouldn’t mind Your Grace.” He bowed again, holding out his hand before leading you to the floor and taking you in his arms as the music started.

“You look lovely this evening.” He growled out lowly, just into the shell of your ear as he spun you through the crowd. The shiver that ran up your spine when his hot breath hit your ear made you arch yourself into him. His warmth surrounded you, feeling it though the arm of his jacket and gloved hand cradling your lower back.

“So do you.” you smiled at him, looking up at him to see his trademark smirk on his face. You danced smoothly together around the ballroom, discussing the accepted subjects for a ball; the weather… yesterday’s weather, before you started to notice eyes on you. “Lady Cowper is staring at us.”

“Let her.” His deep voice becoming more serious as he turned you so you weren’t facing her.

“and Mrs Featherington… they’re all talking about me aren’t they?” your grip on his arm tightened as you became more aware of yourself again. It was well known that your marriage was not a loving one. You were the second daughter of a minor viscount with little dowry and a scandalous mother, and your husband was almost three times your senior with no other family: it fed the ton for months. Now you were back and it looked like some of the mama’s still remembered you.

“They do not matter. Whatever they say they cannot touch you now.” His soothing tone settled within you, calming your mind a little as you saw their glances and whispers from behind their fans.

“They can still talk.” After that you settled into a comfortable silence for a while. You let yourself get lost in the music, and in Benedict’s arms.

“Thank you for coming this evening.” Benedict said suddenly. You looked up at him to see his kind eyes already staring down at you, smiling before straightening back up again. “I would not have put you through this but marrying you would be most difficult if you were still in mourning.” He finished.

“Ha. I think mourning is a bit of a strong word for … Marrying me?” you said shocked, your head turned like a whip to see him smirking into the distance.

“If you’ll have me?” He whispered, spinning you in time with the music. The world seemed to blur around you as you just looked at Benedict. If you weren’t in the middle of a ballroom floor you were sure you’d jump into his arms that instant. Your whole heart felt so full at his smile: It had been so long since your heart had felt anything you were almost certain that it wasn’t beating anymore – but Benedict had brought you back to life in more ways than one.

As the music came to an end, Benedict had his answer and bid your leave with a kiss to your hand as he departed to inform Anthony of your news. You took this time to seek out a glass of lemonade at the buffet table. You were just inspecting the selection of hors d’ouvres when you saw Lady Cowper approaching from your side vision, Cow being the operative word.

“Lady Portland!” her shrill tone turned your blood ice cold and you plastered on a false smile once more before turning to face her. “or is it still Your Grace? I do apologise but your situation is an odd one” she laughed. Her insults were always obvious but just underlined enough for her to feign ignorance. Your brain whirred, trying to come up with some smart reply to send her one her way when you noted Lady Danbury approaching.

“Your Grace.” She curtsied minimally, holding her cane. You nodded a smile in her direction as she turned her sharp eyes to Lady Cowper.

“Lady Danbury.” She said rather shocked, knowing she’d been busted. “How lovely to see you, and what an exquisite evening it is.” Trying to change the subject.

“Thank you, Lady Cowper, and may I suggest always showing deference to the superior rather than presuming an equal, in polite society. It is always wise to remember one’s place.” Lady Danbury never missed a beat with her remarks and you struggled to stifle a giggle under the glare of Lady Cowper.

“Of course, Lady Danbury, I was merely asking. If you’ll excuse me.” She curtsied politely before drifting off to fuss over her daughter. Lady Danbury turned back to face you.

“How are you my dear. I see the second Mr Bridgerton is easing your passage back into society.” She smirked, looking over to see Anthony and Colin clapping their brother on the back.

“I am very well Lady Danbury; Mr Bridgerton is a fine dancer.” Your voice petered off as you followed her gaze, a broad smile coming to your face as you watched him smile.

“He painted your portrait did he not?” Danbury continued “Two whole weeks at Pembroke House?” her tone caught your attention and you turned to look back at her, stumbling over a response.

“Oh, um … yes.” You blushed. Just as you were trying to make her words sound less sordid Benedict returned to your side, greeting her with a bow as he placed a subtle hand on your lower back to calm you; thumb rubbing gently.

“Ah. Mr Bridgerton, I was just saying to her grace how chivalrous it is that you’ve taken it upon yourself to see her back into society.” Lady Danbury smiled, her knowing look clueing Benedict in to her inference. His brow raised as he nodded between the two of you and you heard his breath hitch subtly at her words. If Lady Danbury were to guess anything, she could quite easily cause a lot of trouble. A fact which, you were sure, she knew. She took in the silence from the both of you, enjoying the mixture of shock and discomfort on your faces as she eyed you like she was picking her next meal. After a moment or two of enjoying your distress she took a step closer, making sure only you and Benedict could hear her. “Just make sure, that when you send the invites, I am on your list.” And with those quiet words, she bid you good evening and turned to leave you both, sweating but relieved.

#Benedict Bridgerton #Bridgerton x Reader #Bridgerton Imagine #Bridgerton #Benedict Bridgerton Imagine #Benedict Bridgerton x Reader #My Writing #Lady Danbury

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sooniesspot · 3 years

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Coming Down | myg

Okay, so here's the second installment of my BADLANDS Series. This is loosely based around Coming Down by Halsey. I realise I haven't really done them in a specific order, just the one I am pulled to next to write.

Warnings: Dom!Yoongi, Sub!Reader, mentions of slight work stress and societal pressures of being a woman, you know. All that good stuff.

Reader is a F E M I N I S T and proudly so. Loose mention of not wanting kids (which is fine btw) this is just a whole load of smut, not much fluff as it's FWB but.

Okay so, oral, f & m receiving, face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, rough sex, light spanking, choking (for like a milisecond) use of ties, slight sensory deprivation, slight body worship, overstimulation. Slight name-calling?? Yoongs says kitten ironically. Use of safe word/safe signal. Yoongles has a Sir Kink. (I can only apologise) Reader has a hand kink (obvs) just wants to get off and relieve stress, Yoongi is happy to be their relief.

word count: 9.8k 👀🐸☕ don't @ me

'I found God, I found him in a lover'

It was a normal Thursday evening, you'd finished work at 6pm on the dot and took the bus home. Fishing for your keys as you approached the front door of your apartment. Key in the lock, turn. Open. Silence. Walking into your hallway, slippers not quite on the rack by the front door as you rushed out of them into your heels this morning. Just where you left them. Sliding off your heels with a sigh as you trudged into your slippers, immediately comforted by the soft memory foam that supported your tiresome toes. Returning your heels to the rack. Shrugging off your bag and long coat, reaching nearly 2 feet above you on your tiptoes to hang your bag and coat on the coat rack. Muttering to yourself like you did every day. 'Coat and bag, then heels. Won't have to stretch so much.' Venturing into the living room. Magazine on the coffee table infront of the sofa where you had left it last night.

Empty. Not that you expected anyone to be home. No one making you dinner you didn't want, or taking up the whole sofa, or hogging the remote. You lived alone, and you liked it. Sure, for a pretty young girl in her mid twenties you often had looks and questions.

'When are you going to find the one?'

'When will you settle down and have a family?'

And truth be told, you didn't want to settle down. You had told your mother from a young age that you didn't want children, whether that would change over time or not you weren't sure. It hadn't changed. You still wanted your independence and that was okay. Women were not put on this earth just to bear children and you were the firmest believer in that. You liked your life just the way it was. A job you loved that you worked hard for, an apartment you were proud of and nearly every night you got to sleep in your own bed, alone, no one to whine at when they snored or your body being used as a warmer for their cold feet. The few nights you were away from your bed came from your once in a while rendezvous with an acquaintance of yours. Although you knew eachother more than mere acquaintances should.

You met at a bar some time ago. Lights flashed, sure to give you a migraine and music so loud your eardrums could burst at any given moment. You were dragged out to this stingy bar by your bestfriend in her attempt to finally get noticed by that one guy. Even in her twenties she was still as smitten as when you were both back at school. You wore a simple black dress with a low cut front, skirt just above the knee and plain black heels. Hair not much different to your everyday, maybe a few waves here and there and some more mascara than your normal work volume. Trying your best to blend in but still having the ornate ability to have eyes on you in any setting.

You spent a lot of time on the dance floor until your friend had found her prey and you circled around the bar. Much rather wanting to stay at home with a tub of ice cream and your cat watching some terrible reality show about Cabin Crew on a cruise ship. Shouting at the TV to throw the nasty woman overboard; waving your spoon at the screen as your cat looked on in understanding almost. But here you were, slumped against a sticky varnished oak bar, propped up on an old velvet stool, twisting your straw in your glass, nonchalantly spinning the steadily melting ice as you listened to your friend talking to her guy. Suddenly feeling a hot hand against your lower back and someone lean over the bar between you and your otherwise occupied friend. Looking up at a pale man to your left.

" Whiskey on the rocks. " came his order to the bar tender; sharp, leaving no room for anything blasé.

Catching his eye, he looked you over once with a subtle bite of his lip and the flick of his tongue at the seam of his mouth; eyebrow raised with a lingering smirk before he vanished into the sea of people again with his drink.

Dumbfounded, you sat there, staring at the now empty spot where he had been mere seconds ago, the now cool expanse of your lower back where his large hand once was, fizzing. Swinging round on your stool, propping your elbow on the bar behind you, your eyes scanned the room. It wasn't the biggest bar. It wouldn't take long to find him.

Soon you caught eyes with him across the dance floor, stood with his taller, tanned friends as he held the whiskey glass firm in his hand; talking amongst themselves. Dark Brown, almost black hair feathered across his forehead, just above his twinkling chocolate eyes. Thin upper lip pressing to his plumper bottom lip before perfect white teeth graced your vision in an endearing gummy smile. Eyes still not catching you between the bodies of people dancing. Several silver hoop earrings in each ear. He wore a long black sweatshirt, black ripped jeans and boots. A couple of silver rings adorned his strong fingers.

You took a sip of your drink, gaze intermittently fluttering in his direction as you scanned the room, your friend had left to go and dance. Eyes found her and you nodded, knowing she was fine. As your stare focused back on the man before you he finally looked up, catching your eye with his, dark and mysterious. His lips pulling into a smirk again as he gazed at you. Heat bubbling in your chest from his wandering eyes on your body through the gap in people on the dance floor. He eventually made his way over to you and whispered a few words into your ear. Cool and calm.

" Come back to my hotel. "

And so you did. One slightly drunk, intense one night stand later and here you were, 6 months down the line sleeping with eachother whenever he was in town. A classic Friends With Benefits situation, although you weren't really friends.

You walked into your kitchen, greeting your ginger tabby cat with a kiss as she meowed at you in greeting. Grabbing yourself a glass for water and pouring kibble into her bowl on the floor, your routine monotonous but you didn't mind. Your cat tucking into her dinner as you filled up your glass, taking a sip. Looking at delivery menus on your fridge under old magnets from previous travels, deciding on Chinese; plucking the menu from the fridge, you had a training day for other colleagues at work tomorrow which meant a day off for you. No needing to cook dinner and get an early night tonight. Placing your glass and the menu on the coffee table in the living room, you switched on the tv, chucking any random show on then bumbling along to your room, opening the door. Greeted by quiet and serenity. No dirty pants on the floor or unmade bed. You smiled with contentment, unzipping your dress to pool at your feet before tossing it into your wash basket. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your most dependable black bra and panty set glaring back at you as you fixed your hair into a ponytail and wiped off your makeup. Throwing on a sweatshirt and some leggings. A short while later you plopped yourself down on the sofa and switched on the tv, greeting your cat with a scratch under her chin as she sauntered into the room, hopping up on the sofa with you.

Zoning out to the world around you as a terrible drama played on in the background as you glanced over the menu, not really paying attention to anything in particular. You had been a little stressed over the past couple of weeks, mounting pressures of a new senior in your department threatening to change everything you had sculpted into a balanced working environment over the last 3 years. Societal pressures and backhanded compliments from your mother's 'garden party' friends concerning whether or not you were defective in choosing a man. Or having one choose you. But in reality, the truth is, you had a stable relationship previously, unfortunately he was a dick and you're not stupid. So the single life had been your rather quiet reality for the last 18 months. No one to answer to or to worry about. Just you and your cat.

Your mothers friends never seemed to understand that, always too engrossed in whether or not you had a man on top of you every night to see that their husbands had found other, much younger women to be on top of. All of this filtering through the crack in your hardened shell, filling your mind with alternate realities until you got a text coming through. Cutting through all the fuzz that piqued in your brain. Picking up your phone, you saw who it was. Him.

'I'm in town, come over?'

Your reply was short and sweet.

'Sure, be over in 20.'

Snapping out of your previous thoughts and placing the menu back on the coffee table you sat and pondered for a minute. This was fine. This was what you needed. To let off some steam, in a judgement free setting. No cold glances your way, or harsh words uttered, unless it was you being tied to the headboard again like you had been convinced to try last time with his unadulterated gaze looking down at you writhing underneath him. The thought alone had your hair standing on end and a shiver running through you as you stood from the sofa, heading to your room.

Sifting through your wardrobe to pull on some old trainers, checking yourself in the mirror not really knowing why. In your hallway you made sure the lights in the apartment were off and your cat was happy, tucked up in the corner of the sofa snoozing away. Making sure you had your keys and phone in your bag, you left, key in the lock, turn. Locked. Walking down the hallway and down to the ground floor, heading out of the building to head right. The hotel he always stayed at was only a block or so away so the walk was relatively short. The sun was setting now as it hid behind the skyscrapers that canopied the city. Passers by making their way home or even to work. Still lots of cars on the road and bicycles that weaved in and out of traffic. The breeze was light and cherry blossoms danced in the air, separating from a tree as you passed a nearby park. The air was cool, as it would be in early May. Not too hot. Reminded of your journey, that first night.

'When his hair falls in his face and his hands so cold they shake'

You had left swiftly after his original proposition, making up some story about your cat or an early work meeting or something. Anything to get you out of there and with him. His hand returned to the small of your back as you left the bar, being ushered into an awaiting taxi outside. Shuffling all the way over to the other side, he slid in next to you blurting out the address to the hotel at the driver. Hair falling in his face. Eyes wild as they sparkled from the reflection of the dim streetlights. Smirking at you as the same powerful hand you had grown accustomed to on your back, made a home on your knee, slightly tucked under the skirt of your dress. It was now cold to the touch. Strong and intimidating as the taxi started to drive away. Not being able to take his eyes off you he leant forward and whispered in your ear.

" You look so delicious. " His voice low that reverberated through you, straight to your core as he squeezed your knee. Uttering the last syllable with a kitten lock to the shell of your ear.

To this you bit your lip and shifted uncomfortably in your seat. His hand, in turn sliding further up under your dress to the wider expanse of your thigh. The material of your dress pressing his hand taught against your skin.

He swooped down to your ear again, pressing an open mouthed kiss under your ear before he whispered " can't wait to taste you. "

You keened away from his grasp to no avail. He knew what he was doing to you, breath shallow and flighty in your chest as his teeth tugged at your earlobe.

"Please " You breathed, the first word you uttered to him.

Not really sure what you were pleading him for but the fire in your chest and the dampness of your panties flourished an urgency within you that was incorrigible. He smirked again at this, eyes dancing like Fireflies in the night. The hand that was to his side while the other hid between your thighs came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him.

"Soon. " He chuckled before biting your lip.

Drawn back to reality, passing people and cars. Your trainers pulling you towards your destination as your head had an argument with your feet. Was this a good idea? You didn't want to get yourself into a situation where either of you caught feelings. You were a pro at being a cold hearted bitch now but the odd sincere glance your way, especially from him seemed to melt your resolve, even just a little. Recounting the previous times you had taken this walk and what it would lead to.

After your first night with him, it was like a drug. You always wanted more. To say he was good in the bedroom was a complete cop out. He was...He was something. Made you feel things you'd never felt before and noises you'd never in your wildest dreams imagine yourself making. At decibels only a dog could hear. So once the addiction started, you started seeing one another everytime he was in town. Sometimes a couple of times in a week. That went on for a solid 4 months and as work pressures mounted, you fell distant. Always busy catching up with work or having some alone time with your thoughts and your cat. He also got busy, having to travel more for work. You didn't really know much about except it was important and you felt based on the guitar he always packed with him, propped up against the wall in the corner of the room, it was something to do with music.

'I found a devil, I found him in a lover'

The last time you had seen eachother had been a little over 2 weeks ago. That night you'd stayed, which didn't come easily. You were adamant you would leave as soon as you'd cleaned up, even telling him so as he helped you wash in the bathroom, almost requesting a second round when he looked at you through the mirror with those sparkling brown eyes like the devil, but you had been so wound up and pushed to your limits that you felt sleep take you as soon as your body hit the mattress again. Memories of restraints, dark water colours that created the murky palette of his hotel room and the low thumping of your heart, even as you entered the apartment, seeing him there, a tie in hand and a coy smirk. That night he had called you. He never called.

" You busy? " He sounded gruff like he'd just finished working out - which you knew not to be the case.

"When am I ever busy? " You rebuttled with a laugh.

He joined you, then you could hear him grin down the phone. A different sort of grin. A devious one.

"I wanted to try something. "

There was quiet, you wished him to continue silently.

"Something I can't stop thinking about doing to you. " He whispered lowly.

Your ears on fire and furiously red in the face you hung up. Chucking a quick 'omw' text to him in return. That night had been the best sex you'd ever had. That's why you'd stayed. For fear of walking into oncoming traffic at 2am because of your disorientated state.

Your heart skipped a beat at the anticipation of what was to come once you knocked on the door and it sent a thrill through you. Rounding the corner you were met with a bleak grey concrete block of apartments that made up the hotel with a black sign. Crossing the street after looking both ways you jogged up the steps as you saw the door beginning to close after a couple just exited. Sliding in you headed straight for the elevator.

He always had the same hotel room which avoided any confusion. You ran to the elevator that had just opened and pressed the 7th floor. Alone again your mind wandered to your first night here, in this lift.

You'd both stumbled out of the taxi and shuffled over to the lift, he pressed the elevator button furiously as he got impatient; leaning against eachother. As soon as the lift doors were closed he pressed you against the wall, face millimetres from yours as his nose skimmed over yours. Both of your breathing, laboured and slow. His large hands roamed your body; your waist, up and down your thighs. Gripping at the flesh as if he owned it. You wanted him to. God you wanted him to own all of you in that moment. Gaze intense and unwavering as the mysterious glint in his eye grew. His hands slid around the curve of your ass which made you stutter, giving it a harsh squeeze that made you lose your breath.

"I'm gonna ruin you." He whispered devilishly in your ear as he bit the shell.

Pulled out of your reverie as the elevator doors dinged open, signalling you had reached your floor, face burning as you stepped out of the lift, cold fingers pressed to your cheeks to try and cool them. Preparing yourself for what man would greet you at the door. You never knew which one you would get. Sometimes he was ravenous and you never made it to the bed, lipstick smeared and tights ripped as he never had time to waste when he felt such a desperate need for you. Or you would get the cool calm and collected man that caught your eye that night all those months ago. That was, until he got you here. Alone with him.

Walking down the corridor to his room now, counting the doors as they seemed to go on for miles, dark in wood with numbers etched in gold with golden handles. Your breath starting to slip away from you as you imagined as soon as you opened that door you wouldn't be able to breathe steadily again for a while. Room 93. (Shoutout to Halsey's first EP) There it was. You slowed to a stop, almost nervous to knock. 'Just knock' You muttered to yourself. Rolling your eyes as you fidgeted on the spot, sighing as you raised your hand to knock on the door. Knock. Wait. Silence.

You were waiting for a little while which was unlike any other time. Checking your watch and the door number. You waited a little longer and you were just about to walk away when the door opened slowly. You turned; met with the same dancing brown eyes you caught in yours all those months ago, although slightly sunken, maybe he hadn't been sleeping well? His lean frame propped up against the door. Arms folded over his broader chest. Hair fluffed over his forehead, slightly damp. Pale skin flawless and glowing against the dark background of his hotel room and the darkness of his simple black tee and sweatpants. Silver hoops still adorned his ears and rings still glistened on his beautiful hands. Eyes unwavering as they honed in on you. Smirk playing on his thin lips.

"You're early." He mumbled all knowingly, looking at the rings that adorned his knuckles, as if he were about to connect them with a wall.

You stuttered, heart in your mouth as you gawked at the man. Feeling like a naughty school girl that was about to get a ruler spanked across her a-. You stopped the thought for fear of collapsing in the hallway. His eyes still on you, looking you up and down. You mentally slapped yourself for your attire. Sweatshirt and leggings. Not sexy in the slightest. Anyway. Why did you care? Not like you wanted to impress him, right? After another beat his strong arm pulled you in the room by the collar of your sweatshirt, closing the door swiftly behind you and pinning you up against it.

"Just means I have more time." He whispered against your lips.

Sweeping strands of hair out of your face delicately, tucking his fingers behind your ears. He smiled at you, his gummy smile. You never thought that smile would be directed at you. Let alone in this setting.

'With his lips like tangerines, and his colour-coded speak'

His lips moulded to yours with a sudden urgency. Teeth and tongue caressing your lips with power and want. Heavy breaths exchanged as you dropped your bag; hands trying to find purchase somewhere sturdy and stable. Deciding upon the strength of his arms. Eyes closing as you were swept away in the moment of teeth and tongue and pent up tension and wanton need for eachother. His fingers pulling out your hairband so your hair pooled around your face. His fingers lacing through the soft locks as he grinned against your lips. Always having an ornate infatuation with how silky your hair was. How good it felt wrapped around his fist as he fucked you into the mattress. How it spread out behind you like waves across the crisp white bedsheets, framing your face perfectly as you slept.

He missed this. Maybe he missed you. Jolted back from his sweet thoughts, hearing you start to mumble against his lips as he continued to pin you up against the door, your head firmly in his hands.

"Yoongi." You murmured again, slurring the word slightly; drunk off the potent lust he cradled you with.

He never let up from your lips, intent on breathing you in. Hands untangling themselves from your hair as his cool calm hands landed on your shoulders, moving you away from the door to pin you to a wall, nearer to the bed. An eventual destination set in his mind. He couldn't get enough of you. Your hands travelled to cup his cheeks. His lips dry against yours gaining moisture from the saliva rolling around in your mouths as your tongues fought. Small whimpers beginning to swim their way into the air. Music to his ears. Of all the music he'd ever had a hand in creating, he wished he could emulate your tiny whimpers. Your cries for more of him. All of him. Wanting to devour him whole.

"Fuck" He exclaimed, finally pulling away from you, heavy breathing as his forehead was against yours.

Not even giving you time to breath he reached for the hem of your sweatshirt, pulling it over your head to reveal your gorgeous body to his hungry eyes. Knowing now that hiding from his gaze would be futile. An attempt at covering up would leave your ass raw and marks all over every single inch of your body. God's above. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, to him you practically were. He never sought out for any other attention or company from other women. The taste of you as often as he could have you was more than enough to satiate his heart.

He made quick work of your bra before throwing his own shirt off onto the growing pile on the floor. His hands, rough against your soft, plush breasts as his thumbs circled around your pebbling nipples. His teeth latching onto your bottom lip, humming as he looked into your steadily closing eyes. Teeth venturing south along your jaw to your neck and collarbone as he began to grab at the skin of your waist after he finished moulding your breasts; as if trying to memorise the feeling of them in his hands. The weighted comfort he had grown to adore about your chest. Teeth sinking in, enticing low gasps and the tiniest of squeaks as he would bite too hard on already sensitive flesh, intent on getting every inch of your skin covered in small indentations from his teeth. Tongue lascivious against the contours of your neck and collarbones, sickly sweet taste of your skin that drove him wild.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

All you could do was pant and mule against him, your hands in his steadily drying locks. Suddenly pulling away as he untied the drawstring of his pants.

"Knees, now." He whispered authoritively and you happily obeyed.

Flicking your hair off your shoulder you sank down onto your knees. Eyes ignited with a fire he practically stoked out of you. You admired his body on the journey down. Body lithe and pale, defined arms and chest with a flat stomach, no six pack or defined v lines that led to the promising tent that you saw in your line of sight. Just a small happy trail of hair from below his belly button sneaking into the hem of his sweatpants. Swiftly taking them down and off you were greeted with black boxers, looking tight around his cock cased within. You licked your lips in anticipation as his fingers forked through the hair on your scalp. Looking up to his face as he gazed down at you with a stern look in his own eyes; burning into your already flushed skin.

"Someone looks like they've missed this." He smirked as your hand rose to palm him through his boxers.

He released a low hum at the feeling of your hand cupping his balls. You knew that he was very sensitive there, from past experiences.

"Does the slut want my cock?" He asked, a feather of a chuckle rumbled in his chest at your immediate nod as you ran your tongue over the seem of your lips.

Your fingers delved underneath the fabric as you began to pull them down. Sudden slap to your hands had you shying away from him.

"Hungry sluts have to wait don't they, kitten?" His eyes zeroing in on your reaction to the pet name.

You gritted your teeth in vague annoyance at the name, after the first night, you told him you had to be home for your cat. Finding it oddly adorable you were a cat lady he called you kitten ironically, now it's stuck. Your eyes looking away from him, turning your head slightly towards the large window that showed the rest of the city. Twinkling lights now shining in the moonlight. His hand gripped your chin, pulling your attention back to him, forcing you to look up into his devious eyes.

"I don't think you answered me, slut." He snarled; releasing your chin from his grasp.

Your heart jumped in your chest. "Y-yes, sir."

He smirked again, feeling triumphant he patted your head, thumb smoothing over your hair line with ghost like touches before running it along the seem of your mouth, popping his thumb in, flat against your tongue. Closing your lips around him, beginning to suck, big eyes gazing up at him.

"Good girl." He whispered before removing his thumb from your mouth and yanking his boxers down and stepping out of them.

His fingers danced through his damp hair as his cock sprung up against his stomach, a muted groan as the cool air touched his reddened and straining cock. Your eyes widened, never getting used to the sight of his cock, inches away from your salivating mouth, making your panties pool with a carnal need for him to be inside you. Your hands began to rub up and down your jeans clad thighs, waiting with baited breath for him to give you the command. This man and the things you'd do for him would have others question if you were a feminist or not. How a strong single woman with a steady career and bustling social life could want to be so utterly defiled by a man and be at his every whim really flipped your ideology on its head. But a drug was a drug, and you were high on him like cocaine.

"Alright, stop giving me those bedroom eyes." He gushed, dominating voice faltering as he gazed down at you, waiting and ready for him to let you begin.

You fluttered your eyelashes at him, big and bold. Biting your lip as your hands rubbed along your thighs again.

"Fuck, just get over here." He laughed, holding the base of his cock in his hand as your hands slunk up his sturdy pale thighs.

Fingertips sending sparks through his body. Your lips reaching his tip, you looked up at him again as you kitten licked his bulbous tip, testing it. Like testing a car. He hissed to which you smirked. You took your tongue to lick the underside of his cock lightly, teasing his frenulum before swirling your tongue round his tip several times. He puffed out a harsh breath but never said a word, fingers beginning to weave into your hair with a softness you were unfamiliar with. Surrounding the tip with your lips as you slowly sunk the head into your waiting mouth. Giving kitten links to the underside again as you sucked on his tip for a moment. Yoongis breath was heavy, you could tell by his chest moving, half lidded eyes looking down at you as you took more of him in slowly. Tongue still licking everywhere you could. Your other hand still positioned on his thigh as you rubbed small circles in it with your thumb.

Starting to take him deeper in your mouth and pulling him back out for breath had him seeing double. His vision was blurred as he could feel your heavenly lips wrap around his strained cock, precum and spit starting to pool at the corners of your mouth; threatening to spill as you bobbed your head back and forth on his dick. Setting up a rhythm you plunged him in deep so your nose touched his abdomen and he threw his head back with a grunt; gritting his teeth.

"Uh, fuck. Your mouth is so good" He whispered into the air.

'I've got a lover and I'm unforgiven, I'm such a fool to pay this price'

Your mouth worked on him as well as it could. You would take a lot of him in and proceed to gag which made him grunt. As your hand began to work at the base of his shaft. Giving him your all. Making up for lost time.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last." He hissed. His hands in spearing through your hair as his thumbs rubbed at your scalp.

"I should've kept my hands to myself... Always impatient." He chuckled menacingly to himself; shaking his head.

Your breath was heaving as you pulled back from him. Hands gripping his thighs tight as you looked up at the man towering above you.

"What do you say, will you let me fuck your mouth like a good pet?" He asked, hands still in your hair.

"Make me cum, then it's your turn? How about it, kitten?"

No hesitation in your eyes as you gazed up at him as if he had hand painted all of the stars in the sky. You nodded profusely and he grinned at you; swiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

"Good girl, remember your safe signal?" He asked, almost sweet in his tone.

You tapped the back of his thigh 3 times with your finger and he nodded. Feathering his fingers through your hair again, your hand still at the base of his dick lining him up to your waiting mouth. You gave him the go ahead as he thrusted shallowly into your mouth at first. Finally in your mouth his hands speared through your hair behind your ears to hold you still as he began to move his hips back and forth. You had done this before. Let him do this. But this time was so raw and so needy you honestly couldn't fathom how much you needed this. And it wasn't even your turn. He began to set up a rhythm working his length deeper with every thrust; starting to make you gag as you tried your best to relax. He breathed in sharply, his head thrown back as he pumped in and out. His shaft gliding smoothly across your tongue and beginning to slip down your throat as you sputtered around him. Hands firmly gripping the back of his thighs, the same way he was gripping your hair.

"Fuck, fuck. Your mouth. Kills me." He mumbled to himself; thinking you couldn't hear.

You looked up at him, a picture of bliss. Arms locked in place, keeping you still as he slid in and out of your mouth, picking up speed now. The veins in his neck; protruding under a velvet blanket of Frosted skin. Teeth gritted and brows furrowed. He looked down to see you already watching him. To this he groaned deep within his chest at the sight of you so willing and ready for him. Setting his nerves alight he could feel his orgasm approaching. Gripping your hair even tighter as he gave you a moment to breath before jackhammering into your mouth with a low whine.

"Fuck. Holy shit." He whispered before you felt his cock twitch deep in your throat and thick ropes of cum travel down it as he came; hips jerking at weird angles as you noticed sweat beading across his neck and collarbones; reaching up to his hairline.

After he had composed himself he pulled out of your mouth and you swallowed everything still left in your mouth before opening your mouth to show it was empty. He ran a solid hand through his own hair before he pulled you to your feet; planting a heavy kiss to your lips as he walked you back towards the bed. Practically pushing you back on it with a soft bounce. He suddenly rounded to the other side of the hotel room rummaging through a suitcase. Soon returning with several black ties in hand. Giving you a knowing smirk. You felt your stomach sink at the memory of your last adventure with this man. In this hotel room. With those ties. But judging by the look on his face and the fact his previously lifeless cock had begun to spring to life again; you knew it was different.

'I found a martyr, he told me that I'd never'

He began to move you up the bed to where he saw fit. Nodding when he had got you where he wanted. Straddling your waist he grabbed an arm tying the tie around your wrist to then loop it around the headboard. He soon did the same to the other one. Then finally you saw him gazing down at you from above before he slipped a soft silk tie over your eyes fastening it behind your head. Everything went black, but you could hear him; feel him. All around you. Feeling weight either side of your head you suddenly felt breath over your nipple; squirming at the sensation and your clothed pussy clenching around nothing. You felt him kitten lock his way along your breast before landing an unexpected bite against your neck, causing you to pull against the restraints with a sharp intake of breath.

"Remember your safe word, kitten?" He whispered in your ear.

You nodded. "Seesaw."

He sat back on his heels; still straddling you. Crossing his arms with a nod.

"Why is it Seesaw, again?" You ask, a grin sliding onto your face.

He chuckled at this before you felt weight lifted from the bed. You skin crawling with goosebumps as you waited with anticipation. Suddenly feeling deft fingers pulling your leggings and panties down in one swift movement. A beat of silence. Feeling like forever until you felt the same fingers, calloused but oh so soft against the skin of your collarbone.

"You don't remember?" He whispered into the darkness.

You shook your head no as your body began to squirm. Feeling his finger trail delicately down to your chest, followed by his other pointer finger on his left. Circling your nipples in precise motions. You sucked in a breath and your back arched as you felt him blow cool air onto the perking bud.

"Oh kitten, it was the bar where we first met" You could hear the smirk evident in his voice as his fingers trailed underneath the curve of your breasts.

"The night I took you home and ate you so good you nearly passed out." A dry chuckle left his lips at the gasp that left your own.

He began to drag his sturdy fingers slowly; tantalisingly, in soft motions towards your belly button where he would branch out with delicate touch; placing more fingers on your skin as they circled your hipbones. Finally sloping down to your thighs where his grip became firm and he pryed your legs apart to expose you to him. Heat flashing across your face as you whimpered at the action. Oh god. The things he made you feel. You felt electricity surge through your body, bouncing off your bones as you heard him hum.

"Mmmm. So wet, just from sucking my cock, kitten?"

You bit your lip with a whine; nodding profusely. Blush creeping across your cheeks. He seemed to like this as you heard a deep rumbled in his chest in approval. You could feel the bed dip slightly due to transferred weight. Right between your legs. Shit. If only you could see him. What was he doing? Was he pleased? Oh fuck, you didn't shave your le- your thoughts were far removed as you felt lips across the inside of your thigh; just above your knee.

"Shit, I can't wait to taste you." He whispered; sending cool air rushing up to your core.

Feeling his lips drag effortlessly along your thigh to where you wanted him most; needed him. He was tender; savouring the moment. He had missed this, giving you what you wanted. Watching you underneath him. Tasting you; devouring you. That's why he was so quick to cum the first time around. Too excited by the thought of having you again he had started to touch himself in the shower. Thinking of your soft, sweet body; Bending to his every whim. Your mouth stuffed full of his cock. Your enticing wet pussy that always made you blush at the sounds it would make, as he would fuck you. Hard and rough. He groaned at the thought before his face was level with your heat. Soft breaths that made your body wriggle; desperate to escape and want more; all at once. He hooked your knees over his elbows as he held your legs down. blowing against your exposed clit and watching your pussy clench around nothing; glistening with your essence he hungered for.

'With his educated eyes, and his head between my thighs'

"Mmmm. Sweet pussy baby girl." He kissed the apex of your thigh watching you writhe against the restraints. He hadn't even started yet. You were in for a long night.

You didn't seem to notice the name at first. It wasn't what he had called you any of the times before. But as the air thinned out around you; feeling the silence weighted around the room like a thick curtain and nothing was corrected, it almost felt affectionate; coming from his sinful lips that had just attached themselves to your-

"Fuck." Your breath caught as you threw your head back against the mattress.

Feeling lips suckling against your clit with vigor. He knew what you liked and knew how to get you where he wanted you. His tongue began lapping at your clit as his lips sucked where they could. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to pull against the restraints; your legs restless as the odd whimper left parted lips. His eyes although you couldn't see him, were focused on you. Watching every bite of your lip, every salacious moan or whimper; every gasp. You began rocking your hips in a rhythm against his tongue and he moaned at the pressure you posed against him. Trying to feel some friction as his throbbing cock had sprung to life from your first whimper; sandwiched between his abdomen and the mattress.

"God, this pussy is so good." He moaned; muffled by your legs trying so hard to clamp around his head as he continued his ministrations.

Soon enough you could feel the familiar rope spread throughout your body, begin to coil; tight as a spring before you felt a nip to your clit and you unravelled underneath him. Feeling weightless and weighted all at once. Stars beneath the blanket of the silk tie; delicate against your eyes. Head thrashing around as arms pulled with all their might against the restraints. Your back arched as you moaned loudly; legs starting to shake at the force of your orgasm. But that wasn't the end. He flicked his tongue against your swollen clit with more intent. Determined to push you through another orgasm before he even started using his fingers. God his fingers. Your lower body began to lift off the bed as his grip on your legs only got tighter.

"Fuck, fuck Yoongi. Oh my fucking g-"

You heard an animalistic growl as you felt another nip to your clit; yelping at the sudden spark of pain amongst your pleasure.

"Sir. Stick to the rules." He punctuated with a slap to your clit. Back arching for a moment as you felt a pulse throughout your body.

"Or I'll keep biting." He mumbled the last part.

You pouted. "Yes sir." You could feel your orgasm beginning to ebb away as he took longer to return to your clit.

You whined and you felt breath on your clit again as he chuckled. Although your predicament was purely casual. Wanting to get off essentially was your main goal. Neither of you ever rushed. Enjoying one another's company. Feeling his slick, swift tongue dancing along your clit again you moaned; trying so hard to keep quiet out of respect for neighbours as you tried resting your mouth against your arm to muffle your high pitched moans. His tongue retracted until you felt the tip of his tongue tease the edge of your entrance before dipping his tonulgue in for a moment. Your hips bolted you forward at the intrusion before settling back down on the bed. His tongue running up and down from your entrance to your clit in long strokes. Quickly settling his tongue back against your throbbing clit. You yelped as he applied more pressure.

"Fuck, I love this cunt."

Slurping noises ensued as he dove in deeper. You orgasm building again and again, holding on for dear life. Holding onto your sanity. His tongue swirling around the pulsing bud as you continued your previous rhythm rocking against his face. Your knuckles were turning white at the sheer grip you had on the ties; feeling yourself drift away.

"Fuck, please, yoo-"

He pressed his face even further into your heat as you cried out in pleasure. Tongue flicking mercilessly over your engorged clit. Reaching the summit again to fall all the way down into the abyss. He never let up from you as his tongue lapped at your juices spilling from your entrance. Nerves alight and pulsing throughout your body. A thin layer of sweat was evident against your face, collarbones; the whole of your body. Sweat beaded from his own forehead and he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as he watched you regain your breath. Stilted in the silence. Only your chest rising and falling as your lungs gasped for air.

He loosened his right arms hold around your leg and brought his fingers forward to your sensitive pussy. Humming to himself as he gathered the Juices on the tip of his fingers and spreading it all over your pussy as it glistened in the dim hotel light. Knowing how much you lost your collective shit over his hands he couldn't help but watch his hands tip toe up to your breast; squeezing the flesh roughly in his hand before slinking it over to massage your neck for a second. Only to grab it a moment later. Your breath caught quite literally as you could feel the bed move from where he was sitting up. He could feel the pressure against your soft skin and the way your breath constricted; only for a moment as he loosened his grip. His fingers still flush against the skin. His veined hand looked like it belonged around your neck. He thought to himself before sliding his thumb into your mouth again; which you accepted with enthusiasm.

'I found a saviour, I don't think he remembers'

"One more from you, kitten. Then I'll fuck you. Okay?" He hummed.

Your reply was noncommittal as you nodded vehemently; still sucking on his thumb. He looked down at you with a certain adoration. Laying there, naked for him. Tied up and blindfolded. If he'd have thought this would be the case after that first night, he would have laughed. But here you both were.

His fingers began to trace the outline of your entrance; whisper like touches that made you clench around nothing. He began experimentally pushing his long slender middle finger inside you a little; chuckling lowly as you let out a whine. Your pussy trying to suck him in further. Wanting to feel him. All of him.

"Sir. Please." You murmured, legs that were now free from his grasp allowing you to rotate your hips.

He wanted to tease. God. He wanted to tease you until the sun came up. But he was desperate and so were you. He removed his finger earning a cry from you. Until he slid in two fingers to your shock and set a brutal pace. Feeling those godly fingers of his curl into you. Moulding you perfectly to him. Tapping against that sweet spot inside. He used his other hand to press your hips to the bed; preventing movement as you felt a touch of sensitivity kicking in. But you put it to the back of your mind; focussing on the way his fingers were drilling into you at an inhuman pace now.

Your senses heightened due to his silk tie that blocked your view. Oh how you wished you could watch his fingers sliding in and out of you like you had done countless times before. Acquiring quite the affinity with the mans hands. Pale, veiny; strong in their ability to hold you but soft when he caressed your cheek, wiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth or the pad of his thumb sweeping away tears from overstimulation. God you loved them.

"Fuck. I'm so close." You cried out, to someone. Anyone who could hear you as he continued his ministrations.

"Yeah? The slut loves my fingers doesn't she?" Yoongi spat; his voice laced with venom.

"Loves my fingers fucking her, huh?"

All you could do was mewl as you could feel your body going into overdrive. Your head slamming against the pillow as you could feel yourself near the edge. Just needing one final push.

"But you love it best when my hand's around your throat. Isn't that right? Slut?"

You hadn't felt his hand move. Too lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Until you felt it grip your throat. Not hard. But just enough. Squeezing when he said slut. Sparks flew and your fingers and toes felt as if they were set to a light simmer. Your body going numb at the feeling and your pussy throbbing as you came. A high pitched moan of his name left your bitten lips as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you. Body moving in time with your spasming cunt as you began to feel the overstimulation kicking in, rearing its ugly head once more. The pain was excruciating as he continued but the pleasure washed over you again as your entrance continued to clench around his fingers. Silence as a moan caught in your throat. This had to be the biggest orgasm you had ever had. Nerves set alight with matches and turning into a forest fire that exploded like gasoline until it set to a simmer when Yoongi slowed his fingers down ever so slightly. Enamoured by your head thrown back and your mouth in the perfect shape of an O. He would've cum right there, just at the sight of you convulsing beneath him.

"Cause he's off to pay his crimes, and he's got no time for mine'

"Fuck, me." He breathed, shaky breaths too.

Quickly flipping you onto your front, your still tied arms now crossed over one another. Propping your legs up so you were on your knees. A sharp smack to your ass sent you reeling into another sobbing mess. Beginning to plead with him. For something; anything.

Soon enough you felt his hands returning to your hips and ass, caressing them carefully. Your ass flinching at the contact of his lips on your lower back, you could hear a slight slapping sound behind you, assuming he had started to touch himself again. You whimpered at the thought of not being able to watch his veiny hand slide up and down his equally veiny cock. Fuck.

His lips still against your skin as he whispered "I nearly came just like that, watching you cum all over my fingers baby."

There it was again. Baby. Nothing more nothing less. There was a pregnant pause before he sighed, beginning to speak again.

"You're so fucking hot" a groan sounded as the pace of his hand quickened against his length. The slapping sound intensified.

You whimpered, beginning to move your ass up and down, wiggling it at him to invite him in.

"Yoongi, just fuck me already." You whined.

A sharp slap sounded against your ass, reverberating through the room. You winced at the pain, taking in a quick breath before a hand returned to your ass kneading it in his palm.

"Slut is so impatient today. I'll fuck you, don't worry." His words were menacing.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

His hand continued to knead at your reddening cheek before pulling it aside with his thumb, showing your dripping, waiting entrance for him. He almost lost it. Almost. Deciding that you had both waited long enough he lined his throbbing condom clad cock up with your entrance and pushed in with great speed. Hissing at the feeling of your tight wet walls surrounding him.

"Oh god." You managed a strangled whimper into the mattress.

Breath caught in your throat as you could feel his dick beginning to move swiftly inside you. His hips slapping against your ass that was sure to bruise tomorrow, your wrists were aching, your body going numb to every other feeling apart from the feeling of him ploughing into you. Your vision was starry eyed and you hated it. But you loved it. Sobs began to rack through your body as he spanked you once again, sending waves of pain and pleasure through you.

His pace continued as all you could do was lie there with your hands tied, begging for anything he was willing to give you. But also feeling the familiar sting of too much. But it was never too much. You willed your body to continue on. To not give up the ghost yet. You prayed for your body to fight on. To take every thrust he battered into your throbbing, weeping pussy.

The coil you had almost forgotten existed now in the plains of numb, vacant ability to even string a sentence together, began to tighten again, expecting a fraying spent body, not one this eager for your umpteenth orgasm this evening. Your pussy clenched as he continued, hollow groans you imagine him with his head back as he thrusted into you, licking his perfect lips with that sinful tongue. God, he made you crazy.

"Yoongiiiiii, fuck I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please" your tone indescribable as you panted for breath that escaped you with every thrust as his skin continued to slap against yours.

Suddenly feeling him pull out which almost made you weep but being turned back over onto your back, the tie being ripped from off your head. You were greeted by a furiously sweating Yoongi. Sweat dripping from his dark chocolatey hair just above his eyes. His lips swollen pink from where he had probably been biting on them so much, not to mention when he had used the same lips to devour you not 20 minutes prior. His chest was heaving and lips parted as he gazed at you for a moment.

"I'm seeing that gorgeous face when you cum, no way I'm missing that." He stifled a laugh as he lined himself up with your entrance again after wrapping your legs around his torso.

'They run around beneath our feet, we roll around beneath these sheets'

Sliding in once more you rattled your wrists against the silk tie restraints as you cocked your head back in pleasure. You let out a high pitch moan, almost exasperated in tone, your back arching up into him before slumping back on the bed in defeat. Yoongi almost reading your mind whilst still thrusting inside of you began to untie the ties that bound your wrists. You thanked heaven for your saving grace. You could run your hands through his hair now, feel his sweaty skin beneath your fingertips. And soon after your hands were free he laced them in his own. This also being new to you. You knew the drill when having sex with him. He laid down the ground rules early on. No kissing. No cuddling. No hand holding. So what he did next really sent you through a loop.

"Fuck I'm close." He sighed before leaning down to kiss you.

His lips were salty, battered and bruised much like your own but you didn't care, you kissed back with all your might as he continued to thrust away inside you. Feeling his cock hit that sweet spot again you mewled, breaking the kiss with your head thrown back.

"Here kitten?" He asked, smirk evident in his voice.

You whimpered with a nod as he continued to thrust in the right place, hitting your spot so deliciously you couldn't help cry out when his pace turned rampant and he held your hips in his bone crushing hands, sure to bruise tomorrow. The punishing pace was set as his hips bucked into you and you tried to grab at anything you could, finding no sturdy comfort in the crisp white hotel sheets beneath you. Your breathing was erratic, you hadn't realised you'd been sweating until now, although not as much as the man above you. You watched in distracted awe at the sweat running down his broad chest, along his stomach and down to where his cock was pummelling into you.

You could feel it again, serious this time. Your orgasm creeping up on you faster than any bullet. Your legs tingled and your toes curled. Your knees felt like they would break and your arms felt detached from the rest of your body. In the last moments you saw him gazing down at you, exasperated, fucked out beyond belief. But smiling. You reached up at the nape of his neck and pulled him down to you, pressing your lips against his as you succumbed to the pleasure that wreaked havoc throughout your body. A heart wrenching shout came from your lips. In every moment, a glitch of your body as it spasmed with unruly disregard and poor timing. Your pussy clenched repeatedly on his cock while he continued to thrust inside of you.

"Oh fuuuck, I'm coming." He groaned into your neck as he used hard, purposeful thrusts as he came in the condom.

'He's coming down, coming down'

The sweat that accumulated on both your bodies cemented you together for moments after. All pretence and notions suspended as you both caught your breath back. Heaving. Breathing one another in. Soon Yoongi peeled himself off of you and went to remove the condom. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Stars still there. You weren't imagining it in the end. Scraping your hair from off your face as you wiped the sweat from your brow. Soon he returned, bouncing onto the bed next to you, looking up at you in adoration almost. A nervous smile present on his lips as if he didn't just drag you to the 7th layer of hell with him. Or was it heaven? You could never be sure.

You looked over at him with heavy lids, inquisitive look on your face as he swept hair from your shoulder. Looking down at you with that same smile. Before -

"You fancy going on a date, some time?"

NOW Mr Min is usually not my main man but i can't help it, just, shit okay Min Yoongi.

I realise I'm probably going to hell for this but we joon

Hope you guys enjoyed, working on the next installment as we speak 🤪 if you want to be added to a taglist let me know 🥴

Love Always

Mac 🧡💜

#BADLANDS x BTS #smut series #myg x reader #non idol au #min yoongi smut #this is intense #i can only apologise #bts #bangtan #bts smut

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ashotofeuphoria · 3 years

Text

As I Hold You

Pairing: Firefighter! Jongho x Injured! Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: character death (not member or reader), ANGST, car accident, blood, injury, fire, v brief description of a dead body, trauma, potential miscarriage (hinted at), let me know if i missed anything!

Authors Note: First fic! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

You don't remember the impact. The sound of metal crushing, of horns blaring, and tires screeching. Everything just went black.

You had been out running errands all day with your younger brother, Gabriel. You needed to pick up some more supplies for your baby who was soon to arrive. Your first baby shower was scheduled for this upcoming weekend. While you knew that your family and friends would support you and buy you most everything you needed for your baby; you still wanted to buy cute outfits and toys in the anticipation of their arrival.

Your final stop was a new boutique that opened across town, and your younger brother was eager to chauffeur you. He knew that you were a little scared of what the future held and wanted to ease any stress he could, by doing little acts of service for you.

You were living with your family and would remain there throughout your first year of motherhood. You hadn't meant to become pregnant. In fact, you were rather scared of the idea of children and pregnancy. But accidents happen, as they tend to, and your (ex)boyfriend ended up knocking you up.

It was an amicable split when you broke up. You both knew it wouldn't last, and children don't fix broken relationships. He did agree to support you the best he can and you're thankful for that much. It's overwhelming honestly, having the amount of support from everyone that you do. One thing is for sure, this baby will be so loved.

Your brother walked you out to the car, all the bags in his hands, opened the door for you and helped you in. You were only about 4 months along, so you just barely had a visible bump on your small figure. But he held your hand and helped you step into the car regardless. He shut the door and ran around to the driver's side before opening the door and hopping in.

"Thank you for driving me today, buddy. I know you have other things you could be doing," you said as he started the car.

"You know I'd rather spend time with you than do anything else. All I do is read and listen to music in my room, it's not like I do all that much," he chuckled, finding it amusing how appreciative you are of a simple car ride.

"Yeah, alright," you smiled towards him, "Still I know you aren't required to help me out, so thank you. Love you, bubs."

"Love you too, y/n," he said as he glanced towards you with a soft smile.

The car pulled out of the parking lot with the GPS routed 20 minutes down the highway to the boutique. Gabriel took a left out of the neighborhood, and you asked him for the aux.

"Sure," he replied, keeping his eyes on the road but reaching for the cord to hand to you.

You began playing your K-pop playlist, something that's been getting you through the days recently. When you hit shuffle, Love Die Young by Eric Nam started playing. You started to harmonize with the chorus as Gabe pulled the car onto the highway.

"Not this sappy shit, y/n, really?" he giggled as he watched you dramatically act out the song, clutching at your heart as you sing, staring at him with a smile plastered on your face.

"His voice is so smooth I can't help it Gabe," you exclaimed in a sing-songy tone. "So, what do you think I'm gonna have? A boy or girl?" you ask him as the car hits the speed limit and he puts on cruise control.

"Honestly, I think it'll be a little girl. I hope it is at least. We gotta buy so many cute outfits today. I can't wait to help you take care of them. Whatever they may be," he laughed glancing over at you.

"I have this whole idea for their room, I want to do a taupe and mossy green color for the walls. And I think I want a lot of cute pictures of plants and different animals. Ya know, to keep it pretty but neutral, something that can age well with them," you explained to him as he steadily controls the car.

"I think it'll look perfect," he responded. "10 more minutes and we'll be there."

You nodded your head and looked out the window at the greenery. Ideas of outfits and nurseries swimming in your head. You closed your eyes, propped your arm up on the window, and leaned your head against your hand as the car drifted down the highway.

Your eyes jolted open when you suddenly hear Gabe go from a whisper to a shout "fuck, fuCK, FUCK Y/N HANG ON!"

A car had swerved and jumped the median and was driving directly towards you, mere meters away. Showing no signs of stopping, and Gabriel having no real way to swerve to avoid them, he threw an arm in front of you, and you brought your hands up to cover your face, your knees coming up on instinct to protect your belly.

And everything went black.

----

When you came to, the first thing you noticed was the smell. Metallic, and smoky, like something was burning. Then you felt a searing pain in your head. You struggled to open your eyes but when you did you couldn't believe what you were surrounded by. The airbags had deployed, but there was blood splattered across the car. You could tell smoke was rising out of the engine, but you couldn't see much else through the cracked windshield.

You look to your left and see Gabriel covered in blood, eyes closed. And you immediately feared the worst.

"Gabe! GABE!" you reached over to shake him, to hold onto his cheek and try and get him to face you. To open his eyes. To do anything. Your ears are ringing, and you can feel your eyes stinging when he won't respond. Your hands are desperately grabbing at his shirt, and hair, willing for him to wake up, for him to be okay.

"Gabe," your voice barely bubbling out of your throat as sobs begin to overtake your body. "Gabe, please, please, wake up. please, you can't, no, please, Gabe, bubs, you're okay, we're okay, please," the sobs wrack your body as you gasp for air between each word. Tears are streaming down your face and suddenly your focus is on your hands, and you see they're covered in blood.

You hold your hands in front of you and stare at them in horror when your vision redirects to your legs. You're crushed in the car. Your legs trapped under the dashboard. Your hearing is slowly coming back as you hear sirens somewhere in the distance, but from what direction you were unaware.

You remember a car had hit you head on when it crossed into your lane going well over the speed limit. As you glance out of the passenger window to see what happened to the other car (and if you're even still on the highway) you're met with a ghastly picture of your face in the side view mirror. Your forehead has been deeply cut, and blood is dripping thickly down your forehead and has mixed with the tears falling down your cheeks.

You cough when you begin to inhale smoke. Your vision blurring, your head falls back onto your headrest as you pass out.

----

As you come to, a faint knocking sound begins to grow louder, until you can hear a man yelling "Ma'am! Ma'am! Can you hear me! You gotta wake up! Ma'am!"

You cough the smoke out of your lungs, your head throbs from the movement and you wince in pain. You're brought back to the situation you've found yourself in and remember Gabe is next to you. You look over to him and the feelings become overwhelming again, as you stare at what you can only assume is his dead body.

As a sob erupts from your throat, you look out your window at the man who was calling for you, and are met with desperate, soft brown eyes staring at you through a helmet and face guard. He's a firefighter dressed in full gear. He yells something to you, trying to overpower the other noises happening on the busy highway but you can't connect the sounds with words in your brain. You can only stare at him in confusion, tears falling faster down your cheeks, your breathing uneven.

You see him reach for the handle of the car door and try and open it mumbling a quick "fuck!" in frustration. You're trapped in this car, and he needs to find a way to get both of you out before the whole car goes up in flames.

"Get the jaws! The doors are jammed!" He yells at the team of firefighters surrounding the car and the truck.

He looks back down to you and says as clearly and reassuringly as he can, "Hey, it's okay. It'll be okay, we're gonna get you out of there, okay?"

You begin to nod your head in response when a knock is heard at your brother's window. You whip your head around and see stars for a moment. When your sight clears you see a taller man in uniform shouting to your brother, who isn't responding. Your voice is small and cracks as you try and tell the man outside "he can't, he's not-" and you feel your chest become tight once more.

You hear the man at your window begin talking to you.

"Ma'am, please try and stay still. We must make sure your head is okay. Alright? Please don't move too much. Can you do that for me?" he politely asks you, empathizing with your situation.

You meekly nod your head. Your eyes are stinging. You don't know if it's the smoke or the tears, but it's probably both. As you focus on the man in front of you, you hear the man near your brother begin yelling at his team about the window and needing to check Gabriel's vitals. The man in front of you can tell you're not paying attention, so he speaks up.

"Yunho is going to break the glass to check the man next to you, okay? Just look at me, don't look away from me, okay? My name's Jongho. Just look at me, okay? What's your name?" Jongho asks you to keep you preoccupied and focused on him.

"Y/N," you try and get out of your throat. It's so dry and scratchy your voice isn't much higher than a whisper.

"Okay, y/n. Listen to me, you'll be okay. I'm going to get you out, okay? Who is that in the car with you?"

"M-my brother, Gabe, but he, I-I don't thin-nk," you choke out as you stare at Jongho, unable to say the words. That Gabe is dead. But you don't want him to be. You don't want it to be true. You look down at your door, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic, unable to breathe. You hear glass shatter. As you begin to turn your head, Jongho raises his voice, keeping your focus on him.

"Your brother? Yunho is going to check on him and make sure everything is okay." you hear him say.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" Yunho calls out from the driver window. "Try not to breathe the smoke in, Jongho is gonna break your window to get to you, I'm going to take your brothers vitals and make sure he's doing okay. We're going to get you out of here as quickly as possible, okay?"

You glance towards him and nod your head, finding your eyes drawn to the way he checks for a pulse on Gabe, his slender fingers dancing on his throat, his wrist, anywhere he could find a heartbeat. And seeing the increasing worry on Yunho's face does nothing to reassure you. You see his eyes widen, and yours follow. He leans back and yells over to the team, "There's a pulse. It's faint, we need to get him airlifted asap! San, I need you over here!"

While you're fixated on Gabe's pale and limp figure, you hear glass shatter next to you followed by a warm hand turning your cheek towards him. You involuntarily gasp and sputter at the influx of fresh air.

"Deep breaths for me, Y/n. Please look at me." he gently demands. You look into his eyes as he shines a flashlight above them checking your pupils. He can see how bloodshot your eyes are from crying, and he glances over at your brother, then back at you. "Hey, it'll be okay, we're here now. Just look at me, don't look at him. You're okay. Everyone is here to protect you." he rushes out.

His hand rests under your chin as he uses two callused fingers to check your pulse. Then he gently tilts your head to each side to inspect the gash on your forehead as quickly as possible. He glances down your body to check your arms, and torso seeing they're mainly just bruised, when his eyes land on your bump.

His eyes widen as he asks you urgently, "Y/n are you expecting? Are you carrying a child?"

You hadn't even thought about your child. You had been so distraught over your brother; you didn't even consider the health or wellbeing of your unborn baby. Your heart rate rapidly increases as panic begins to set in.

"y-yes I am, I'm 4 months. I-I'm, do you think, are they? god please don't tell me-" you start blubbering as all the possibilities begin to tumble through your head.

Before he can reassure you, he checks down the rest of your body and sees your legs are trapped under the dashboard. And that even when the door is off you won't be able to get yourself out of the car. Jongho defaults to reassurance as he really can't even begin to answer the questions you're asking him, "I-it's okay. Everything is okay. Let's get you out of this car."

Smoke is becoming thicker around the front of the car, and you watch as it blows around Jongho's figure, flooding out the highway from where you sit. Tensions are growing higher as the crew knows there isn't much longer before the car is gone. Four men are teamed together and grab the Jaws of Life from the truck as they begin walking toward your car. Setting up on your brothers side you begin to hear metal cracking and snapping as the four men work to pry the car open with the heavy machinery. You're itching in your skin wishing to jump up and run now that you're trapped, and Jongho can tell. He has his hand braced at the back of your neck, keeping it steady, as you once again begin to panic; he rubs circles on your arm, and pushes your hair back from your sticky forehead and out of your eyes.

You can hear the Jaws stop and in the reflection of the side view mirror you can see Gabe's lifeless body being pulled from the car, his body pale and bright red from blood, blue and purple littering his figure. He's placed on a gurney and run towards the truck where someone begins CPR.

You redirect your eyes to meet Jongho's, whose eyes are looking deeply at you searching for any sign of pain or discomfort, any sudden changes in your condition. "Is he going to be okay? He has to be okay. Please tell me they can fix him." you plead with Jongho, who looks at you with nothing but the heaviest of hearts.

"We're going to do our best. I promise you we will do everything we can. But right now, we need to get you out of here too." he explains. "I'm going to go bring the Jaws over this way and we are going to get you two out of here," he asserts, gesturing at your bump. "I need you to stay still just like you have been, okay? You're doing so great. Keep your arms as close to your body as you can, and don't look at the window in case anything splinters. Do you understand me?" he asks you.

"Please don't leave me. P-please don't, don't go. Please stay." you sob as you realize you'll be left alone in your wrecked car.

"I'll be right here. Remember stay still and close your eyes." he reminds you as he drops his hands from you and gives his team room to operate on the car door.

You sob quietly to yourself. You can't believe this is happening. How Gabe could be here one second and now he's gone. The image of his pale bloody face is burned into the back of your eyelids as you squeeze them tightly shut. You hear the metal of the car frame crunching and cracking once again, as all four men yell commands and directions at each other. Your sobs are uncontrollable as you wish it had been you and not your brother. You wish with all your heart that you could've taken his place.

The door hits the asphalt and almost instantly you hear Jongho next to you, "It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here. I never left." He notices how black the smoke has gotten and decides to check your legs to see if he can carry you out before the rest of the car is disassembled.

"Can you feel your legs?" he urgently asks you.

You nod your head as you cough so hard that you gag.

"shit-" Jongho mumbles under his breath, looking all over your figure and the car, knowing he must move now or never. With his mind moving a million miles a second, he makes the decision that your legs are likely not broken and brings out a blade from his pocket to saw your seat belt off you. You watch as the sweat beads down his forehead and across his dimpled cheeks as he grits his teeth.

Jongho puts his arms under yours, pulling you into his chest, getting your upper body mostly out of the car. When your legs are more visible, he puts one arm under your back and the other under your knees and lifts. You slide out from under the dashboard and with your neck cradled by his bicep and forearm he jogs you away from the car towards the firetruck. He gets five strides in when you hear the explosion. You peek past his arm to see your car engulfed in flames. You can feel the heat on your face, and the sound has left your ears ringing once more.

The team must've anticipated the event as hoses immediately start spraying to drown the car fire. Jongho gets behind the firetruck away from the fire and sets you down making sure you are stable, with no further injuries from his manhandling. He gently places a hand on your bump and hopes against everything that this baby is okay. Just as he's about to stand to find his captain and report your status he feels your hands fist into his uniform jacket holding onto him.

"please don't leave me. please don't leave. d-don't go." you hiccup as you stare pleadingly up at him. With the way you're gripping onto him, he knows there's no way he can walk away from you right now. Instead, he stands up and grabs a clean towel from just inside the truck and begins to tenderly wipe the blood and tears off your face, avoiding the gash on your forehead.

He doesn't have the heart to tell you that Gabe didn't make it, his body covered with a sheet on the other side of the truck. He also doesn't know how to explain that if Gabe hadn't reached over to protect you, he might've been in less critical condition. That he died protecting you. So, for now he wipes away the grime; and, after seeing you shaking, unbuttons his thick uniform jacket so he can hug you; until the paramedics arrive and will inevitably pull you away from him. You don't hesitate to wrap your small arms around his waist, and he holds you, pressing your head against his chest where you can hear his steady heartbeat.

"It's okay, y/n, it's going to be okay. You're okay. I'm here. I've got you." he repeats it like a mantra, over and over, convincing he thinks, both you and himself.

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