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#If it was one or the other I could probably chug along
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My wrist hurts too much to draft. Meds have made me too drowsy to edit. Machine has scheduled maintenance.
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alastor-simp · 4 months
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Alastor with a female reader who is selectively mute Part 1
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I always wanted to know how Alastor would react to a demon character like this or who is similar to Komi-san from Komi Can't communicate, so this is going to be my take on it.
**First Meeting**
Your arrival in hell wasn't a pleasant one. Literally the second you fell, you were approached by demons left and right, either trying to rob you or offering to sleep with you. Yelling at them would have been easy, but you were a very anxious person to the point you were mute with everyone you encountered. Surprisingly, you were able to run away from the unwanted problems you faced in hell, and was able to come across a flyer that was taped to one of the alley walls. "Come stay at the Happy Hotel" it read, and you figured that it might be a good place to stay for a while and try to make a sense of what you could do now that you were in hell. Having followed the map that was on the other side of the flyer, you were able to come across the hotel, but the neon sign was different then what the paper said, but you figured they probably were remodeling it.
The hotel was huge, it was plastered with neon signs, but also had a radio tower on one side, a large fish like contraption, and a pirate ship. "Amazing" you thought to yourself as you made your way closer to the door, and lightly knocked. A cheery voice was heard on the other side and soon the door opened to reveal a pretty, blonde girl. She had devilish features, but a very adorable baby face, and her smile was quite cute as well. "Oh! Hello! My name is Charlie Morningstar. How may I help you?", she said to you with big bright eyes, as she was patiently waiting for your response. Clenching your jaw, feelings of anxiety began to well up in your stomach, but you bared with it and simply held up the hotel poster in front of Charlie. Charlie was a little curious about your strange response, but she put the pieces together that you were wanting to stay at the hotel. "SQUEAL!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR COMING!", she said as she threw her arms around you in a bear hug, then letting you go as she pulled you into the hotel.
The inside of the hotel was nice, but needed some remodeling, but you liked it overall. Looking around, you noticed the other demons that were in the hotel. A mini demon was zipping around in a cute dress, cleaning the ceiling with a duster, a cat like demon was chugging a bottle of booze at the bar, and a very tall spider was standing next to the record player, picking out a song. Stopping what they were doing, they all turned to look at you, curiously. Nervous, you raised your hand at them, signifying a hello. The cat demon just nodded his head and continue chugging, while the fast demon zipped in front of you, waving back with a smile, before zooming away to finish cleaning. The tall spider gave you a wink, as they walked to the bar and took a seat. "Vaggie! We have another patron!" Charlie said, as she yelled out next to you, while also leading you to one of the lobby couches to have a seat. As Charlie walked away, your eyes began to scan around the hotel, taking in every detail, and also glancing at the portraits hanging on the wall with Charlie and what looked to be her parents.
"Why Hello there! Who might you be?", a static voice said, as you looked up to see a red suit man with a very sharp smile standing in front of you, leaning down to place his face closer to yours. He was dressed to the nines in a red striped coat, along with a monocle and bow-tie. He also appeared to be holding a microphone staff? Was he a singer by chance? Realizing you were getting distracted, you just nodded your head at the man, and pointed to the poster, similar to what you did with Charlie. The man raised an eyebrow, as he continued to lean closer, most likely waiting for your answer, as his smile got wider, almost breaking his face.
**Alastor POV**
Alastor's eyes continued to stare at the quiet demon, who was holding the poster and kept tapping against it frantically. Amused, Alastor leaned closer, while moving his staff to tap against her chin: "Something wrong my dear? Cat got your tongue?" Alastor watched as the demon remained silent, but he could tell by their eyes that they were nervous, oh how entertaining. "Oh Alastor! So nice of you to show up! This is our new patron who just arrived at the hotel", Alastor heard, as he turned to see Charlie smiling at him, while dragging Vaggie by the hand. Leaning back from his position, Alastor continued to gaze at you while turning back to Charlie. "Ah! So this wayward sinner is here to stay at the hotel! Excellent!" Alastor beamed, as he look down at you, while you shifted in your seat.
**Your POV**
You started to feel a little uncomfortable with everyone's eyes on you, making you clench your hands on your lap. You noticed the other demon next to Charlie. She had long grey hair, and only one of her eyes was showing. She did give you a hard gaze when she saw you, but it softened after few minutes. As she came closer to you, she waved her hand as a hello, while also asking what your name was. You stayed silent, as the butterflies in your stomach made you feel like you wanted to vomit, as everyone was watching you, waiting for your answer. "Whats the matter with you, toots? You deaf or something?", The spider demon had taken a seat next to you, while wrapping an arm around your neck with one of his arms, while poking your cheek with his other hand. Freezing up, you felt your eyes start to water, and you started to slightly shake. Charlie noticed your reactions and bent down on her knees to gaze at you, asking if you were alright. Taking a slow deep breath, you nodded then made a notion with your hands asking for something to write on. Charlie quickly got up and ran to the desk to grab a large notepad and pen, before coming back to you. Once you had the notepad, you began to write down what you wanted to say, before turning the notepad around for everyone to see, while giving them a shy smile:
"Hello my name is Y/N. I just arrived in Hell a few minutes ago and I saw your poster and wanted to stay here. I'm sorry for not responding to you guys normally, but I am selectively mute, I'm sorry again. Its very nice to meet all of you!"
Everyone around you slowly read the notepad and all turned back to look at you. Charlie and Vaggie looked very apologetic, the spider just shrugged his shoulders, the mini one just continued to smile at you, but more softly this time, and the cat demon just continued to drink from the bar. The man in red, or Alastor as they called him, continued to smile at you, seeming unfazed by what you wrote, but you noticed his eyes soften a bit, but he made sure to hide it from the others. "Oh! I'm sorry if we made you uncomfortable." Charlie began to bow her head, but you waved your hands, letting her know it was alright. Charlie raised her head, and soon her frown turned back into a bright smile: "Oh yes, let me introduce everyone! This is Vaggie, my girlfriend. The spider next to you is Angel Dust. Niffty is the small cute one. Husk is the one at the bar, and this is Alastor." You listened to all of the names Charlie said, and looked at everyone, while smiling and nodding your head. Angel Dust smirked while looking at you, turning you head to look at him: "You're quite a cutie aren't ya? I bet your voice sounds very sexy." Angel continued to wrap his arms around you, continuing to flirt with you, until Alastor's staff smacked him on the head. "Now my good fellow! It's not proper to talk that way to a lady! Please kindly remove yourself from them!" Alastor said, as he gazed at Angel, smiling still, but it looked more menacing this time. Angel let you go, while rubbing his head: "Satan F*** Al! You didn't have to hit me with that thing!" Vaggie then yelled at them both to be quiet, as she walked over to front desk and grabbed what looked like to be a room key. She walked back and handed it to you, telling you that your room is on the fourth floor and you can go up there and get settled. Nodding your head as a thank you, you began to walk over to one of the elevators and made your way to your room.
Arriving in your room, you scanned around the interior. The room had some dust and cobwebs, but a little cleaning would help with that. The room was decorated in a maroon red, with a large bed with black sheets, two large windows with curtains, a bathroom and a very wide closet. It almost felt like you got the home suite, which made you feel guilty as you really didn't need a extravagant room like this. Still in thought, you were alerted by a rhythmic knock on your door. Walking over, you looked in the peephole to see Al standing there with his big smile. Opening the door, you nodded your head at Alastor, as he smiled down at you. "Hello again my dear! I was wondering if you had time to chat!"
***Alastor POV***
The quiet sinner nodded her head at Al, while opening the door, allowing me to come in. How adorable! He thought, while making his over to the center of the room and turning back to look at them. "Now my dear! I am here wanting to apologize for how I acted in the lobby! I wasn't behaving like a proper gentleman and I understand if I made you uncomfortable, so let me offer you my sincerest apologies! Let's start over from the beginning, shall we?" Alastor bowed his head a bit, as a sign of him apologizing, and extending his hand out in a handshake. You appeared taken aback in Alastor's eyes, ,but you gave him a soft smile and shook his hand. Once you finished shaking hands, you grabbed the notepad and pen again and began to write to Al, as he gazed at you, wondering what you were writing before you turned the notepad around. Alastor leaned closer, and began to read the message:
"It is alright, Alastor. There is no need for you to apologize. And besides, I'm the one that should apologize for not answering your question when you asked me."
Alastor finished reading, and turned his eyes towards you. His sharp smile slowly turned into a soft grin and his glowing eyes had softened. "Don't worry about that my dear! Now I take it since you will have just arrived in Hell, you are lacking some necessities correct?" Alastor had moved away from you, as he continued to talk while walking around your room. Turning back to you, you gave him a small nod. "Then we will head to the city! Me and Charlie can accompany you! What do you think?" he said, as he turned back to you, with his large grin coming back. Nodding your head at Alastor was his indication that you accepted. Smiling wider, Alastor turned back to you, as he made his way to your door. "It feels that I have extended my stay, so I will leave you be darling! Do make yourself comfortable!" he said, as turned his head back to you. Pulling out the pad again, you wrote down another message and showed it to Al.
"Thank you."
"Your welcome my dear! Have a pleasant evening! Also don't forget to head to the kitchen later! My mother's famous jambalaya is on the menu for tonight! So good, it nearly killed her! HAHA!" , Laughing out his response, Al watched as he saw you give him a smile, a real smile this time. "My! What a gorgeous smile!" He thought, as he bid you adieu and made his way back to the lobby. As he made his way back, Alastor stopped and thought about you. Puzzling was a word he used to describe you. He had never encountered a sinner down here who chose to not speak while having the ability to do so. He mostly assumed you were terrified of him, due to his status as "The Radio Demon. Most feared overlord in Hell.", but that wasn't the case. Something about you made him feel odd, hell he even apologized to you, which he would never do given his massive pride/ego, so he wondered why. Seeing you write on the notepad and apologizing for not responding normally, made his heart ache. Why should you apologize for something like that? Realizing he had stopped in the middle of the hallway, he carried on back to the others, still thinking about you and also how would your voice sound when you spoke out loud. Alastor smiled wider, as he thought you were going to be a very special and entertaining sinner here at the hotel.
Part 2 of the story is Here
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hairyjocktf · 1 month
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The Bear Brew
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Jake was the star player of his university’s hockey team, and with two successful championships under his belt he was captain for this next season. He’d practically been raised for this position. His parents had put him in hockey lessons as soon as he could stand up, and every moment through his childhood and teenage years had been dedicated to practice. He was the star player at his high school and given a scholarship to play on the university team. He’d been told not to let all that go to his head but he knew he was the best player on the team. Every match there would be throngs of fans in the stands chanting his name after every goal, wearing shirts with his face on them, and begging for pics with him after. His life couldn’t get any better.
His teammates, however, were over it. They’d made him captain just to shut him up after he’d been talking their ears off for the past three years. It helped that issue but only inflated his ego even more. Jake had somehow gotten even more obnoxious this season, becoming combative during practice and not taking any criticism about his play. The guys were sick of it, and while Jake was off stroking his ego by chatting with his fans, they hatched up a plan to get back at him. They’d found this beer called ‘Bear Brew’ that promised to put some pounds on anyone that drank a can. They knew Jake would never turn down grabbing a drink to celebrate a victory, thinking himself the one responsible. They weren’t sure exactly how effective it’d be or how long it’d take but they just hoped it would take Jake down a peg.
Two days later, after another decisive victory, it was time. Another player named Eric interrupted Jake’s victory lap.
“Hey bro, wanna grab a beer with us and celebrate?” He asked.
“Finally ready to celebrate my accomplishments, huh?” Jake retorted, “Sure dude, I’m down for a couple rounds, you’re buying though.”
“Deal,” Eric said through gritted teeth. He knew it would be worth it to see this through. They both returned to the rest of the team.
“I heard you chumps are buying me a beer tonight,” Jake laughed as the others wore forced grins. “Let’s hit the bar bros, I’m thirsty.”
On their way to the nearest sports bar, one of the players slipped Eric the Bear Brew so he could give it to Jake. He hoped Jake wouldn’y pay too much attention to the label or read the fine print, but Jake already wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed so it’d probably be fine. They entered a local sports bar that had a decent crowd.
“Alright Eric, first rounds on you bro!” Jake announced as he slumped back into a booth along the wall. Eric glared as he made his way to the counter, the rest of the players trying to seem normal and hide their excitement. He brought back a whole armful of cans, passing out beers to the team, making sure to hand Jake the Bear Brew. “Alright boys!” Jake announced to the group, “To victory and my next championship title, you better back me up!” He took a huge sip of the beer. “Damn this shit tastes kinda weird, the fuck did you get me Eric?” He laughed before taking another sip.
Eric chuckled nervously, “Just thought I’d get you somethin’ premium bro.”
“Damn straight you did, I like that kinda talk,” Jake responded, luckily not putting any more thought into the matter. He kept on sipping at the beer, making obnoxious jokes and trying to hit on the waitresses walking around. He felt more buzzed than usual from one beer, and noticed an odd feeling in his stomach. He ignored that for the moment, yelling at the team, “Another round bros! Gotta treat me right tonight.”
Luckily, the team had planned for this and brought extra beers for Jake in case he asked for more. Another player went up and ordered beers for the team, brought them back and handed Jake the Bear Brew again. Jake started chugging the second beer, and he was really starting to feel odd. He was almost feeling drunk from just two beers, and his stomach was queasy in a way he’d never felt before. He took a couple minutes to just lay back against the seat and close his eyes to give it time to settle. But settle it did not, and the feeling eventually became uncomfortable to the point he couldn’t ignore it. He put his hands on his stomach to try and comfort it, but immediately he felt something very, very wrong.
Jake opened his eyes and looked down at his stomach. He nearly gagged at what he saw. Instead of his chiseled abs he now had a pudgy stomach, and it only seemed to be getting bigger. His defined muscles were disappearing behind a thick layer of chub. He was speechless, watching his defined pecs inflating with fat. It looked like he’d been binging beers for years! His perfect workout routine was vanishing before his eyes as his entire body gained 5, 10, 20 pounds. A round belly now stretched his shirt to its limit, with sagging tits to match. It looked as if he’d been dirty bulking for years on end, and Jake was mortified. He glanced around at his teammates hoping no one had noticed his inflating body, feeling his face as a double chin began to form under his formerly tight jawline. He was panicking, trying to keep cool and maintain his cocky bravado while hiding his growing gut.
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He could feel every part of his body growing plump and soft, threatening to burst out of his tight clothing. His feet were pushing against his shoes, and even his hands were growing larger. Jake felt sick to his stomach, and without attracting attention he got up and made his way to the dingy restroom in the back of the bar. Out of breath, he put his hands on the counter and stared at his bloated reflection in the mirror. He could barely recognize himself, having put on years worth of weight in the last few minutes. As he watched himself, he noticed some dark spots appearing on his face. Upon leaning towards the mirror, he realized with horror that thick, brown hairs were starting to poke out of his face. They popped up around the sagging edge of his jaw, and began spreading across his puffy cheeks. His upper lip was quickly buried beneath a thick, unkempt mustache as the hairs took over. They crawled down his fat-laden neck as well, reaching down towards his collarbone. His mouth dropped open as his face was in an instant coated in thick wiry hairs. There was no way he could go back out to his team now, what would they say? He barely looked like his old self anymore. 
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Jake reached up to feel his newly grown beard, the coarse hairs scratching against his fingers. He tried to come up with a plan, but the several beers had dulled his mind down. Those thoughts were cut short as a sudden itch arose on his chest. Jake started to scratch at it, clawing at his chest before he felt something that filled him with horror. He felt stubble. He tore off his shirt and looked down to see more hairs pushing out of his soft chest, starting between his former pecs and blossoming outward. They grew dense and thick, giving his chest a respectable coating as it stretched out, encircling his nipples. The hairs climbed up his collarbone, connecting with the beard hairs that had claimed his neck already. A line of hairs shot down from his chest to his navel, spreading a new field of hairs on his stomach. His torso itched up a storm as a thick pelt was growing in, but Jake felt a mixture of horror and pleasure as the sensation felt unnaturally good. He groaned watching the hairs grow longer on his chest, curling and tangling with the others.
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As he reached up to feel the growing hairs, Jake saw a flash of dark under his arm, somewhere he had kept shaved before. He lifted his arm up and saw thick brown hairs worming their way out from the previously smooth skin. At first it was just a few but as he watched the tuft grew thicker and bushier as the hairs multiplied. The hairs even spread out to connect with the rug on his chest, completely visible even with his arms at his sides. A few seconds later the smell hit him. Those hairy pits reeked! It was eye watering, and he could see the sweat dripping down the wiry hairs as they kept growing longer. The hairs began crawling outside of his pits, wrapping around his shoulders to blanket them in the same thick fur. He looked like he was wearing a hairy shirt, barely able to see the skin under the growing hairs. His new fur continued to spread, as Jake felt the itching engulf his back. He turned in the mirror to glimpse the hairs popping up across his shoulder blades, making their way towards the middle where they met and grew into a thick fur. That fur sprouted down his spine, completing his coat. Above his ass it had grown in particularly thick, suggesting more to come soon. His arms were next, hairs sprouting down his thick biceps, and burying his forearms in a rug of dark hairs. The backs of his large hands were also coated, thick hairs popping up even on his knuckles. 
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Despite feeling horrified at what he was becoming, Jake was overwhelmed by immense pleasure from the changes. Every hair that sprouted produced a euphoria like nothing he’d experienced before. He could feel the follicles pushing through the skin as they covered him in luscious brown fur. Something was distracting him from that sensation though, and it was in his crotch. A burning and stretching feeling was occurring down there, and though his heart sank, Jake pulled down his waistband to peek. His previously trimmed bush was pushing out, dark hairs erupting from his groin as they spread like wildfire. The hairs sprouted and grew thicker and curlier as they multiplied, traveling from the base of his cock all the way up and merging into his thick stomach hair. The bush spread outwards onto his thighs, and he felt his balls expanding as they began to hang lower. They too were buried beneath the fur that was taking over his groin, with thick wiry hairs growing all over his enlarging balls. Jake moaned in ecstasy as his pubes kept sprouting, growing longer and bushier. It felt wrong and disgusting but his body was overtaken by hormones and endorphins, the sensation of pleasure was undeniable.
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The hairs continued taking over his smooth skin, traveling from his bush down his large thighs, popping up and growing dark and curly. They coated his legs, growing dense enough to darken the shade of his skin as hair sprouted all over his thighs and calves, before reaching his feet. Jake pulled off his shoes that were ripping at the seams, exposing his now size 15 feet. He watched as hairs wormed their way out across the tops of his feet, even sprouting on his toes. His entire body was now coated in thick brown hair, and Jake rubbed his hands through the newly grown fur as he moaned from the sensation.
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His moment of pleasure was cut short by someone banging on the bathroom door.
“Hey Jake, you all good in there bro?” It was Eric, eager to see if their plan had worked.
“Uhh,” Jake hesitated, brought back to reality in a flash. “Yea dude, just a little sick to my stomach it’s no big deal, I’ll be out in a sec,” he replied with a shakiness in his voice. He looked at himself in the mirror. What would the rest of the team think? He looked about ten years older and fifty pounds heavier, not to mention the hairy mess he was now. He was unrecognizable as his past self, not to mention that his clothes didn’t even fit anymore. He struggled to put his shirt back on, leaving his hairy belly exposed, before cramming his huge feet back into his shoes. He took a deep breath, and then unlocked the door and walked back out into the bar.
His teammates had gathered around the door, waiting to see what had become of Jake. They gasped in unison as he opened the door, quickly changing to a howling laughter. 
“BROOOO WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?”
“No way it actually worked! I can’t believe this”
“JAKE YOU’RE SO FAT AND HAIRY”
“GET OWNED DUDE”
“That Bear Brew really did a number on you man!”
Jake was taken aback, his transformation had been potted by his teammates! He was stunned into silence, standing there with his half-fitting shirt on as he was laughed at voraciously. Slowly the laughter cooled, and Eric came up and slapped him on the back.
“See you at practice tomorrow dude,” he said with a chuckle.
The rest of the team left Jake and headed out of the bar. He stood there grappling with the reality of his life now, how was he going to go back to everything like this? In the face of overwhelming stress, he decided to put it out of his mind for just a little while. He walked back to his table, picked up another can of beer, and sat down. His life was a problem for tomorrow.
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vintagehellfire · 5 months
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Danse Macabre | E.M x Reader
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summary: Your best friend invites you to a concert that you're less than keen on but you get much more devil worship than you bargained for.
warnings: porn without plot, plot? What plot?, choking, nipple play, blood play, bruising, oral (m receiving), sacrilege, bdsm, dom sub dynamics, just really stupid horny honestly. Eyefucking, teasing, edging???? Spit kink, mask kink, devil worship. This is just pure filth honestly, piv, unprotected sex (don’t do this with strangers ya’ll pls I’m begging) mdni 18+
word count: 8.6k
Thank you to @the-unforgivenn for beta reading this pure filth for me and for correcting my atrocious keystroke mistakes. I love you so much babe.
part two
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How you got dragged to some sort of musical satanic ritual by your best friend Lilly was far beyond you. The heavy instrumentals contrasted too harshly with the light and theatrical vocals. If looks could kill, Lilly would be dead. This wasn’t your scene, it never would be, it’s what you told yourself. Sipping your gin, arms crossed, you scrunch your face, the bartender having been too busy staring at your chest while he poured your drink, resulting in a rather disgusting concoction. As if the night couldn’t get any worse. 
One of the lighter intro songs came to an end before the pyrotechnics roared to life next to you, one of the guitarists emerged from behind the waft of smoke. It was then that your breath caught in your throat, the way that he played had you hypnotised, placing you in a trance so deep that you couldn’t tear your eyes from him even if you wanted to, veins protruding. Your eyes trailed over his body, tight jeans fitting to his body and a uniform dress shirt adorning his torso, long sleeves and turtleneck underneath, hiding any soft skin. As you would be met with a face, you were surprised to find that you were met with a helmet of sorts, breathing tubes and other such accessories adorning it, as well as sticking out the top. His eyes burned red like embers behind the wide goggles, a darkness swallowing the man behind the mask and drawing you in. Curiosity got the better of you, you watched closely  when he stomped to the beat of the songs. he fans collectively let out a wave of screams, throwing flowers on stage. You rolled your eyes so hard they probably should have rolled out of your head. Were you attracted to the masked musician? In some capacity sure, but wholly? No. They just… they knew how to play well and those hands… you could admit those hands were something. You shook your head to rid yourself of impure thoughts, it wasn’t like you liked the music anyway. 
Your face was stone cold and your arms were crossed over your chest unhappily, cleavage pushed up, and the leather of your jacket creaking. That was the thing about you, you’d rather die than remove your prized biker jacket. It was your battle armour, much like the guitarists get up seemed to be the band’s uniform. To them, it protected their identity, and it protected you – you wouldn’t be caught off guard, you wouldn’t be vulnerable, you couldn’t. Your icy stare pierced through the smoke, through the flames, as you focused your gaze on the guitarist in front of you. His white guitar distinguished  him from everyone else just as your expression did you –perfectly sour.
The crowd behind you chanted along to the songs, screaming about Lucifer and the congregation and whatever other shit you chose to ignore in favour of your best friend. Lilly was one of them, jumping up and down, chanting every word of the hymns the lead singer belted out to the tune of the strong bass line and the chugging of guitars. As much as you wanted her to have fun, you rolled your eyes, this wasn’t your scene. Every song that started out heavy led to a disappointment with the vocals or the rock opera and so you just opted to be the designated party pooper and give your best glare towards the lead guitarist who seemed all too interested in your corner of the stage. He wailed on his guitar harder than you’d seen anyone wail on one before, a flash of worry briefly crossing your mind but you quickly pushed it down. 
The masked man played through his songs flawlessly, fingers moving expertly across the fretboard, mind and body completely in tandem; however your pout, your knit eyebrows, and crossed arms caught his eye, he’d stare back at you through his tinted goggles, smiling softly to himself at how adorable you looked when you were so grumpy. He could tell this wasn’t your scene and so during the slow and long intro to a song he walked over to the very front, standing just a few feet above you.  He tilted his head to the side, his mask listing as he stared, playing the intro as his eyes never left yours. 
The small movement caught your attention, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you felt like the glowing embers behind the goggles were burning into your very soul, dissecting every little secret. He slowly points to himself before he gets his queue to jump into his next riffs, stomping away as he pushed through the heavy chords that thundered through the concert hall. You dared not admit it to yourself, but something inside you snapped, a warmth starting to spread between your legs. No, no you couldn’t possibly be attracted to this, right? But just as that thought entered your mind, it shot out of your head and straight to your heart when you saw the man before you strut over to his bandmate. The two bent over backwards together, the taller of the two supporting the back of the man with the white guitar. A cute moment, or so you thought, but as soon as the shorter was up for his solo, the taller wrapped an arm around him and pawed at his cock, tugging him into his muscled body, catching the one you had your eye on off guard. He rocked his hips into the other and rested his masked head on the shorter shoulder, fake panting. He did not falter however, and that had your brain reeling. 
With a small smack on the ass, the taller let him go, strutting away as the crowd erupted in ear shattering screeches, and if what had just transpired wasn’t one of the hottest things you’d seen, you would have absolutely rolled your eyes, but instead it had you shifting in your place, all too keenly aware of the small flare of heat that lapped at you and the proximity of the other bodies surrounding you. You suddenly felt small, trapped; and you wanted nothing more than to run out and dunk your head under some ice cold water. What was wrong with you? Your eyes darted from side to side, hoping your best friend Lilly wouldn’t notice. 
What went on next was just about to make anyone lose their minds, the lead guitarist started to throw guitar picks into the crowd, plucking one last one from his guitar and marching over to directly in front of you. The song they played next was clearly well known but it was only vaguely familiar to you, it was one you would listen to ironically while doing the dishes, one that you didn’t care much for, but was catchy nonetheless. What you didn’t realise was just how suggestive the lyrics were – and so when the man with the white guitar stood in front of you, spreading his legs to put himself in a more comfortable playing stance you thought nothing about it but his next motions had your panties soaking themselves in your slick. A long and crooked finger pointed to himself quickly, then he went back to wailing on his precious guitar just before giving himself a window of about a second to stop, his ring and middle finger very rapidly turned upwards, flicking rapidly as if motioning fingering you, his goggles deadlocked on your eyes. You could tell he was watching you for a reaction, and how you knew you wouldn’t be able to tell. Christ, maybe you should have listened to Lilly when she was telling you this band was horny. Truthfully, you had shrugged it off, what, some singer in a pope mask acting all horny? That didn’t exactly get your rocks off, but the moment you laid eyes on the masked men playing their instruments, all rational thought flew out the window. 
Little did you know that the guitarist did have his eyes set on you, all queues already learned, his body moving on auto pilot, his performance was deliberately exaggerated just for you, his motions tailored to get you hot and bothered. He knew he played the best role, and as the show went on, with the lack of water, and the horrid head, he knew his veins were pronouncing themselves even more, fingers sliding around, fingering the fretboard with an expert speed. Every nook, cranny, and metal notch memorised by the calluses on the pads of his fingers, like an old lover he’d always know how to please. He would pride himself on it, on his accuracy, and he was thankful, oh so thankful, that his death metal band had allowed him the dexterity to pull something such as this off. 
Your eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from his figure, stalking his every move like a predator with their prey, A game of cat and mouse you both played with each other from the stage and the crowd. At this point, all shame was thrown out the window and you were openly eye fucking him, blood boiling in your veins and mouth starting to run a little dry. 
The final nail in the coffin was during their heaviest song during the show, a calm moment before the storm, before the stadium exploded in a downpour of black and white paper confetti. Your eyes fixated on the man before you as the song slows to a steady chug, breathy whispers sung into the microphones. It made your head spin as you were trying to compose yourself, breath hitching as the object of your lustful affection met your gaze. His black inky goggles bored you as he brought a shaky hand up, his other hand chugging the low E of his guitar. You were transfixed by the man, unable to peel your eyes from him as he slowly and seductively licked his hand, tongue expertly flicking between his fingers, his shaky breaths becoming ragged and exaggerated. Pressing his hand to his chest, he threw his head back in a moan, sliding his elegant fingers down the front of his uniform until it was level with his guitar, and exactly in time with his strumming, he fisted his hand and with a teasing motion he tugged at the air. Your mouth ran completely dry as you registered that he was feigning masturbation in front of thousands of people. He had you caught in a trance, hypnotised by his agonising motions, his eyes seemingly staring into your very soul, picking apart every last bit of you - he saw the scars inside and your desires all rolled into one. As his actions picked up, one hand still busy on his guitar, you let out a choked breath, transfixed by the man, ghoul, whatever he was, before you. He commanded all your attention, causing your mouth to run completely dry but it couldn’t have prepared you for his “release”--  letting go the moment the confetti cannon exploded. Your jaw slacked, a strangled moan flying from your mouth as you clenched your thighs together, mouth slightly agape. 
The guitarist knew he had you in a chokehold at that very moment, smirking from underneath his coverings. Flawlessly he jumped back into the song and turned away from you, the game of cat and mouse had become too much, too real. It had only taken him an hour and a half to break you down, but once he did he felt a satisfaction he couldn’t explain, and of course he would try to hide it as he continued to strut across the stage as if he owned it. The reality was that he didn’t want to give away just the way this little game had affected him as well, an undeniable strain in his lower half. If his bandmates had noticed, they had clearly made it their mission to torture him, the rhythm guitarist getting on his knees in front of him during a solo, fucking into his own guitar as he pressed his head to the lead guitarists thigh. It wasn’t until the lead placed a boot on his shoulder to push away from him that the one on his knees relented, the crowd exploding in a rain of screams, and yet all you heard was the rush of blood in your ears. You resigned, the game had been won.
As you tried to catch your breath, you looked over to Lilly, thanking Satan that she hadn’t noticed your turmoil. The rest of the show had you holding your breath, knowing that the masked musician had made it his mission to play games with you.  the show ended, you were relieved, you might have a moment yet to go home and get yourself off, forgetting the whole of the events that transpired. 
“Come on, let’s get out of here and to the merch table before it gets too crowded!” Lilly cheered, sticking her handout for you to take, but as soon as she looked over your face her eyes drained of excitement. “Oh, are you okay? You look a little pale,” she noted, tilting her head to the side. 
“Y-yeah, I,” You cleared your throat, “I’m fine, just feeling a little warm. I think I might head home but you go grab some merch. I’ll text you,” you lied cooly. You didn’t want her to know the profound effect that the lead guitarist had on you. With a nod she gave your shoulder a squeeze and darted off. 
You could finally breathe, the suffocation that gripped at your throat just moments earlier had slightly dissipated. As dirty as your thoughts were at the moment, it was in your best interest to get moving, and so, as if on autopilot, you let your feet carry you as far from the stage as possible. You slipped past the crowd, weaving in and around groups of friends, teenagers reeling about the show, displeased parents. You wanted to beeline it out of there before anyone noticed you but unfortunately your plan was short lived as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and tug you behind a closed door. 
Your brain ran at a mile a minute, trying to figure out whether it was cause for alarm, but as your back collided with the wall behind you, you were met with the masked ghoul from the stage pressing his knee between your legs, pinning you in place. All colour drained from your face as your breathing laboured. There wasn’t any fear in your body, not any longer, and if there had been any,it had been replaced with undeniable arousal, heat being sent straight to your core. It took all your willpower not to grind into his thigh.
“Hey, sweetheart.” The husky voice purred, a small accent peaking through. He smelled intoxicating, like amber and cigarettes, a tinge of iron poking through in the softest of undertones. It drove you crazy, mind spinning, dizzy with want. He cocks his head to the side, his nautical mask tilting, the black goggles seemingly bottomless, swallowing his eyes. The musician’s expression is completely unreadable and if you knew any better you’d say it was like a predator who had caught his prey. Your mistake was thinking the little game you both played was over, yet now it seems like it had just begun. The man leans into you, invading your space completely, his covered mouth coming up beside your ear. “Oh you thought our little game was over, didn’t you?” He pulls back, allowing your caged body some space. “Don’t think I didn’t see you, little one.” His sweet voice purrs, setting you over the edge, hips finally pushing into his leg as your head tilts back, smacking softly into the wall.
“Fuck…” The syllable leaves your mouth as a groan before you can do anything about it. Surely you were dreaming this, but when you opened your eyes, you were met with the same mask, the same expression that stared at you from the stage. 
“If that’s what you want, sweetheart, I’ll have to bring you to the green room. We’ll paint it red in sin .” You swore you could hear him wink from behind his coverings but you didn’t care, satan, you didn’t care as long as you could have him. You’d worship him in uniform, all sweat slicked and bloody if you had to. In this moment you had a one track mind and you’d be damned if you didn’t act on your desires… but maybe having these desires meant that you were already damned. “What, not as bold anymore? Devil got your tongue?” He mused. 
“Are you going to run your mouth or are you going to fuck me?” You spit out at him, a feigned venom behind your words, but they were too lust drenched to be taken harshly. In an instant his body was against yours, thigh pressing into your cunt, slowly rubbing back and forth.
“Earn it.” He growled out, face burying itself into the crook of your neck to pepper both kisses and love bites across your jugular. Your body caught fire, desperate to be taken by the mysterious man then and there. You hadn’t seen his face and you were mildly worried that seeing it would ruin the illusion. Would you even find him attractive under all his coverings? You didn’t have time to think about it before his hands came to the meat of your ass, tugging you against him with a burning desire, fire coursing through his veins. The strangled moan that ripped from your throat was one you weren’t expecting, but did it ever feel right, his strained cock digging into your hips as he pushed your body closer to his. You could tell he was well endowed even through the fabric of his trousers, a heat creeping up your neck at this realisation. 
“Don’t tease.” You spat, hands coming up to grip his slightly torn jacket, his arm coverings hiding any identifiers. You were going off of nothing aside from the little fire element pin that was securely pinned to the lapel of his uniform. Your hands found themselves tugging him forward, daring him to kiss you. 
“Don’t be a brat.” The stranger growled, swiftly lowering the cloth covering his mouth before assaulting your lips with his. It was all teeth and tongues, pure lust taking over every one of your senses, and it seemed to be true for him as well. You kissed back furiously, nipping at his bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from him that would turn into a groan as you rolled your hips against his, begging for some relief. “Easy, pet.” He muttered against the plushness of your mouth, a small tender moment slipping through the cracks. As much as you enjoy rough, there was a certain swell that filled your heart in knowing that he wouldn’t push too far. 
Your escapades were all tongue, teeth, and lips, strangled moans, and tugging at each other’s clothes until you both reached the green room wherethe band was supposed to be, however, your mystery man had ensured to clear it before he went out to find you. The only time either one of you broke from one another was for air or to push the door closed, locking it in the process. Both of you were too impatient, a carnal desire for one another pooling into your veins, fire spreading through you both and kindling in that very low spot in your abdomens.
“If you need me to stop, the safe word is Beelzebub.” The man’s husky voice cut through the groans, tugging your hips forward into his by the belt loops. He gave you a moment to process what he had said, but instead you grabbed onto his mask and tugged his head forward, lapping at his bottom lip in order to gain access to his mouth. As soon as he parted his lips, you were welcomed by his tongue dancing in tandem with yours. He tasted of wintergreen and cigarette smoke, a combination so sinful, so depraved that you should have been turned off, instead it flooded you with desire. 
“Need you.” You panted out between kisses, the man unrelenting his assault on your mouth. You were utterly soaked through, and you were certain that the musician could smell you but you didn’t care, not right now anyway. You should have been embarrassed by being taken like this but it just turned you on even more knowing that maybe you would get to live out your newly discovered kink instead of trying to soothe — or smother — the flames by yourself. 
“Do you need me?” The man mused. “Mmm, prove it to me, my little devil.” His hand crept from your waist down to your hips, and from your hips down to between your legs, agonizingly circling your cunt, thumb pressing into the seam of your jeans in the exact spot your clit would be in. “Show me how needy you are for me… Go on…” His husky voice teased. When you didn’t react he spun you so your back would be to him, a strong arm holding you against his body while the other busied himself with teasing you. His breath was by your ear now, and his cock pressed into your ass. He was so worked up that he began to rut his hips forward, moaning at the friction. His moan elicited a reaction in you, causing you to throw your head back onto his shoulder, mouth falling open. The tassels on his overcoat swayed with each rut of his hips, tickling the side of your face. You couldn’t imagine he wasn’t warm in his get up but you were too occupied to do anything about it. 
“Please, fuck, I need you.” You choked out, eyes screwed shut as he teased. You felt him lick a stripe up your neck before nipping just underneath your ear as a small warning before latching his lips to the sensitive spot, sucking a dark bruise into your skin. The sickening combination of his lips on your neck, his hard on rubbing against your ass, and his fingers teasing your clothed cunt was becoming too much, driving your senses crazy. A low growl emanated from deep within his chest, reverberating across your back from the proximity.
“Then get down on your knees….” He spins you around, voice low and husky as he shoves you down, a mix of fear and burning desire settling in the deepest pits of your stomach. Your knees hit the ground with a thud and you’d be sure to bruise later, but that was a small price to pay. You watched him undo his belt and pull his zipper down before bringing his hand back up to his face, licking it slowly like he had during the show. You knew what was coming but what you didn’t expect was him to give you one last order as he spidered his fingers down the ruffled fabric of his shirt. “And pray.” An animalistic snarl came from beyond the mask as his fingers trailed into his boxers this time. The man tugged his cock out and began to stroke himself, chest heaving, his breathing became laboured. 
“Oh, god.” You uttered, but the musician didn’t seem to like that. He let go of his cock, allowing it to bounce against his stomach, a stark contrast with his black attire. It looked delicious with the little opalescent bead of precum nestled on the very tip. 
“No, my pet,” he purred, his thumb coming to your lips, slipping past them and into your mouth. It tasted of brass and sweat yet you opted to hollow your cheeks around it anyway, “you answer to our savior, satanus here. You are no longer in the house of god.” There was a cruelty behind his voice, corruption on his tongue. You would have thought the theatrics would have instantly had you shoving him away, but instead it left you craving the masked man, mouth salivating at the thought of him completely ruining you. 
Without much warning, he tapped his cock on your lips, his precum smudging across your lips, and satanus, was it going to be his death. Your dark smudge of red lipstick would become ruins in the wake, the thought of a red ring around his member had his brain short circuiting, if you didn’t take him in your mouth soon he was going to lose it. Luckily you complied, opening wide to accommodate his size, letting your tongue lap at his tip as he slid in. He started slowly, almost carefully in order not to hurt you but soon enough you pushed his cock to the back of your throat, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His hands flew to your hair, desperate to hold onto something, anything, and he tugged you forward, pulling a moan from the very back of your throat. You pulled back, saliva building up in your mouth mixing with the salty taste of his seed.It wasn’t something you expected to like but you found yourself chasing it, craving more. 
Your head bobbed over his length, your moans muffled as you tried to take him deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. His delicate resolve broke then and there, slamming into you at a frantic pace. He chased his high, immense pleasure searing through his veins as he fucked into your mouth like an animal, all sense of self control was gone. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him the most innocent look you could muster as you flicked your tongue over his tip, lapping at his slit. Agonisingly you pulled back, employing the aid of your hand around his length, taking only part of him in your mouth. You jacked him off as you hollowed your cheeks around his tip, tongue expertly flicking over his frenulum and eliciting the most pornographic moan from him.
“Satanus, save me.” The man hissed from above you, pulling on your hair to draw you closer. He was losing control, babbling about how pretty you looked on your knees for him. “You are so exquisitely sinful, my pet.” His chest heaved with every breath he took, fingers tangling themselves further into your head of hair, fingernails practically at your scalp. 
You take the praise and you run with it, taking it as a signal to keep going, and this time you move your free hand up his leg, rubbing over his thigh as a tease, a preamble to what you were going to do next. You took his groan as a confirmation to continue, his breaths coaxing you to keep going. You slid your hand up, opting to rub his thigh teasingly, savouring the feeling of the looser material under your fingertips, toying with it before you continued your journey up. While your mouth and right hand busied themselves with his thick cock, your left hand came up to fondle his heavy balls. Who knew that praying to a false idol could be so pleasurable. 
“Oh, oh, f-fuck.” The taller threw his head back, voice gruff and fucked out, clearly enjoying this more than he should have been. He was rapidly losing any grip on the situation and he needed to extract himself from it unless he wanted to spill into your mouth. It was his nightmare, his most sinful fantasy, having you like this after the show – a stranger, a person in the crowd. The amount of people that would absolutely kill to be in your position and it was likely that you weren’t appreciating it as you should have been. The man keened before tugging you back harshly, his hips stuttering at the sudden loss of contact from your mouth. “If you keep going like that, I’m going to cum down your throat, sweetheart.” There was a certain level of concern laced into his tone, one that you glossed over through your lust. 
“Holy shit…” You breathe out, pupils completely blown, the colours of your irises practically disappearing due to how clouded your mind was with him, only him, nothing but him, and how divine his cock was. At your words, something inside him snaps and he grabs your throat, pulling you up. You could feel yourself growing more aroused by the minute. How he had guessed that you’d be into choking was beyond you, but fuck was this doing things to you that you hadn’t even thought possible. 
“There is nothing Holy here.” He growled out, a darkness overtaking his voice. His words sent a cold shiver down your spine, one that found itself shooting down towards your core, causing you to press to him. The ember glow from behind his goggles scanned over your face, flickering, igniting a fire in the bits of your belly. “Here we succumb to our lust.” He breathes before letting your neck go only to bring his hand down to your chest and massage your breast, pinching gently through the fabric of your tank top. In an instant, his mouth attacked your neck savagely, teeth nipping at the thin skin, tongue flicking over the bites to soothe them. You tilt your head back to accommodate him, your breathy moans coming up right beside his ear as you rut into him. You’re desperate to be fucked at this point, needing him more than you need to breathe. 
He pierced your skin with his canines, an animalistic desire for you taking over him. He could no longer think, all consumed by his desires. You felt his lips trail down, soft as a butterfly’s wings, stopping at your jugular vein before he bit down, causing you to let out a yelp. Your cry of pain turned into a pornographic moan as he sucked and lapped at your salty skin, a small sheen of sweat starting to gloss over you as you burned up. If this was what being in hell was like, you’d have a hard time coming up with reasons to wind up in heaven. Your torture didn’t end there; however, as he snaked his free hand up to your cheek, holding you in place tenderly as he continued his assault on your neck. He made it his mission to mark you up as his but you were too far gone to care. 
“Oh Christ.” You moaned as he lapped at the bite marks he left, but he didn’t seem to like this. Not that you could see this much, but his eyes turned dark as he trailed his lips farther down, burying his face in the crook of your neck before he bit down hard enough to draw blood. Your pain was immediately covered in a strangled cry of pure ecstasy as he tugged you towards him, his hand on your breast moving to your hip, surely bruising it, fingerprint embedded in the skin of your hip bone. 
The taste of iron filled the musician’s mouth, his hard on reacting to your metallic taste, pressing into your hip involuntarily. He couldn’t get enough of you - the intoxicating smell of amber and palo santo mixed with the salt from sweat, and the citrus of the gin… He wanted to ruin you once and for all. 
“No, my pet, you are not in the house of God. Only the devil resides here. Will I need to have you pray to me again?” The growl that ripped from his throat has you soaking your lace panties, a choked sob escaping from your parted lips. As he took you in, he noted that you already looked completely fucked out, the bruising on your neck blooming like deep red roses, a symbol of both love and devotion. The only thing you could do was shake your head in answer to him. “Mmm,” the stranger hummed, “your body and blood are mine, sweetheart.” He teased you. As your chest heaved, you examined him, traces of your blood down his chin, and some smeared across his mask, his lips were swollen from the harsh and animalistic kisses he was giving you, and satanus were you ever attracted to him in this moment. 
“Please… Can I see you?” You plead, your hands coming to his waist, trailing down slowly, your right hand making contact with his cock. The soft cant of his hips encouraged you to grip it gently, stroking him languidly as you await his answer. “Please…” You repeated, eyes desperately boring into the void behind his goggles. 
“Oh, is my little pet desperate to see me?” He cooed out, his fingers skillfully finding your belt, undoing it at a painfully slow pace. It was your turn to buck your hips into him, rolling them into his touch. “Mmm, such a little slut, can’t wait until I get my hands on you, can you?” He teased. 
“Satanus, yes, please! Wanna see you.” You groaned, breath catching as he slowly teased you through your jeans. “Need you, need- need- ah!” You cried, throwing your head back once again, eyes fluttering shut from absolute pleasure. It’s then that the man opted to unzip your fly, pausing his animalistic activities to gently tug your jeans over your hips. You weren’t having any of this slow and sweet shit; however, and kicked them off as soon as you got the chance to, allowing him easier access to your sopping cunt. The smell hit him immediately and he moaned, head falling against your forehead, his breathing ragged and strained. His cock reacted, bouncing in your hand and you continued your teasing. 
“Then beg me for it, pet. I don’t think you’ve earned the opportunity to unmask me just yet.” His resolve crumbled with every soft touch, every stroke. He pushed into your hand and you took that as a sign to speed your motions before you pushed him back. Confusion was written across his features, that was until you let a healthy glob of spit hit his angry cock. “Oh mother fuck.” The man hissed out, crashing his bloodied lips into your own, allowing the metallic taste of your own blood to permeate your tongue. You reciprocated, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He parted his lips, granting you access, as he swiftly moved your panties to the side, his thick fingers slipping between your weeping folds. It took everything in him to not take you then and there, your pussy sucking his fingers in, tight and wet. 
“Please, please, I need to see you.” You sobbed out between kisses, but it was clear that it wasn’t enough. The musician growled at your words, dipping his index into your slick and using it as a lubricant to tease your clit with, it took him a moment but he found the bundle of nerves. The instanthis calloused finger landed on your clit, your vision exploded into stars, mouth practically running on its own, incoherent pleas and various iterations of “more” tumbling from your swollen lips. You were finally giving him something to work with, the pleas, the praises. He continued working your cunt, curling his fingers into the sweet spot deep inside you, warm walls squeezing against him. 
“Oh, darling. I’ll give you whatever your sinful heart desires.” He nipped at your bottom lip, splitting it with his canines before he pulled back, panting as he tried to catch his breath, however he refused to remove his hand from your cunt, slowing his movements only a fraction so that he could catch his bearings. “Are you sure?” He asked you, a worry laced in his voice. You nodded fervently, a saccharine look in your eyes peeking through beyond the undeniable lust. Whether you understood he was anxious about what you would think of him or not wasn’t apparent but regardless, you wanted to know who the man you were bound to fuck was. 
With a swift move he tugged the mask off, tossing it to the couch behind him and removing his balaclava. What you hadn’t expected was the sight to take your breath away completely. His hair tumbled out of the bun he had it tucked into, and the messy curls cascaded down his shoulders, doe eyes framed by the prettiest eyelashes you’d ever seen, and his swollen lips? God you couldn’t even think anymore. You immediately kissed them, nipping at his lips, taking his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking, tearing a moan from him, his lust filled eyes expanding even farther as you continued your assault on his lips. You bit down harder this time, cracking his lip. This time the metallic taste belonged to him and you couldn’t help but moan at his taste. You needed more. 
“Please, I- I need you…” You panted, eyeing the man with carnal desire. 
“Eddie, my name is Eddie.” And with that final confession he grabbed you by the hip and dragged you back to the roomiest surface he could find. It was all teeth, tongue, and the metallic taste of each other’s blood. Your hand on his cock and his fingers still working you open, movements becoming more erratic as he practically drilled into you with his fingers, setting an unrelenting pace that he seemed eager to keep up. Your knees hit the back of a couch, and his arm immediately shot to the small of your back, gently lowering you, a contrast to how he was abusing your needy body. Your hands moved to his hair in preparation for what was to come, yanking at his soft locks, releasing a deep moan from low in his chest. His hair was silky underneath your fingertips, few tangles in the way or your mission. 
“Eddie, please.” You whined, flush with desire, unable to think of what you wanted anymore than wanting him. A smirk adorned his lips and he sank his knees onto the soft cushion, knees bracketing your hips perfectly, his hands coming up to frame your face, curls ticking your cheekbones as he did so. 
“Open up, sweetheart.” He cooed. Instinctively you parted your lips for him only to feel a glob of his spit fly into your mouth. “Now swallow like the good devil worshipping slut you are.” You obeyed without question, swallowing down his spit with a pornographic moan. As you did, he took a moment to line himself up for you. “God, you look so beautiful, blasphemous doesn’t even begin to cover it, pet.” He praised as he rubs his dick against your soaked entrance, your hips rocking into him, threatening to suck him in. He hissed but slid his hand down your body, tracing your figure with his fingers, teasing in the most tantalising way, once he reaches your ass, he gives it a harsh slap at which you gasp out, choking on your breath, the sting of his hand making contact with your ass radiating a heat you hadn’t thought possible. You hadn’t expected it in the least but it was welcome nonetheless. “Behave.” He growled out, a darkness seeping into the word.
“P-Please, Eds… I need - I can’t, please.” You babbled, words completely incoherent. You weren’t even sure what you were begging for at this point. His cock? His fingers? Were you asking to be fucked stupid? In all your incoherent ramblings and begging Eddie caught one thing that made his brain fuzzy around the edges. “Corrupt me satanus, corrupt me, please.” Playing into the whole devil worship aspect had him gone, his hips violently snapping into yours, completely disregarding that you might need to adjust to the stretch. Part of him felt bad, but your immediate response was to wrap your legs around his waist, crying his name out as tears brimmed your eyes, mascara beginning to run down your cheeks. To Eddie, you looked absolutely perfect. He leaned in and peppered kisses across your face to wipe away the tears that trickled down. 
“S’this what you want, my little pet? You want me to ruin you?” His husky voice was in your ear as he dipped his head lower, his hips rolling into yours slowly. He moved masterfully for someone so scrawny, cock buried to the hilt as he rocked into you. Your mouth fell slack, tightening your legs around his waist and tugging him into you. “Come on, answer me, sweetheart.” He coaxed, pulling out of you slowly before snapping his hips into yours. The pleasure and pain mixed together in a teasing dance, keeping you on the edge and overwhelming your senses all the same. You couldn’t verbally answer and so you turned your head, tucking your face into his neck and kissing up to his ear. About halfway up you landed on a sensitive spot, causing a moan to tumble from his lips, a shiver running down your spine. You latched on like a vampire, sucking over the spot, lapping over it with your tongue to soothe any violent bites you inflicted upon him. In turn he bit into your shoulder, trying to ground himself in reality instead of losing himself to carnal pleasure, the coil in his abdomen tightening evermore. His plan had gone to shit the moment you continued to nibble on his neck, your hands tugging harder at his lock, pulling him further into you. With a slight upward tilt of your hips, Eddie hit a new angle when he snapped his hips into yours, ploughing deeper into you. The both of you moaned in unison before he released a strangled whimper. It was your turn to break skin, your mouth filled with the crimson substance that sustained Eddie’s life. Releasing your lips from the wound, you kissed over his neck and to his shoulder, smearing the fluid across his upper half. 
His pace picked up, slamming into you, deeper and deeper, nothing but the sound of breathless lovers, bodies colliding, and the sweet ecstasy of carnal desire flooding the green room. Your hand then came to his back, scratching down it and eliciting a whine from the man above you. 
“Please, please, please.” You chanted into his neck. It was as if he understood what you meant, his hand coming down between your joined bodies to rub over the bundle of nerves, little figure eights being drawn over your clit. You were going to lose your mind, and maybe even your soul. Would selling it to the devil be so bad? It didn’t take long after that for a white heat to build, a pressure that you weren’t used to building, the coil tightening, threatening to snap like an elastic band. 
“Oh, shit, sweetheart, I’m close.” The man turned his head, kissing up your neck, over your cheek, and found your lips. His kiss was searing hot, burning with need. He chased his release with you, trying to bring you as close to the edge as he could, hoping you might be able to finish at the same time. “Don’t want to finish until you do.” The devil could be generous if he wanted to be.
“S’close.” You panted against his swollen lips, unable to give any coherent answer to him, not that you cared. If laying in sin felt this good, you’d bed the devil any day. “Please, Eds… Don’t stop.” And somehow he kept at it, the same pace, same pressure, same rough and unrelenting fuck that he had been using for the past few minutes. He knew that don’t stop also meant that he shouldn’t change a single fucking thing he was doing, and rightfully so. With a cry, you closed your eyes tight, lights dancing behind your eyelids as you came, the elastic finally snapping, and your release soaking Eddie’s stage uniform. 
“Oh- fuck!” The man squeaked, his own release following shortly after. He could have sworn he saw stars in that moment, arms shaking beneath his own weight. His body fully collapsed on top of yours, your arms wrapping around him tightly, kisses tenderly placed on his shoulder. “So perfect f’me.” He mumbled into your sticky skin, reluctantly peeling from you. His brutal and domineering demeanour melted away, replaced by a certain level of care. You could see it behind his eyes clearly. “You okay, sweetheart?” He cooed, brushing your hair from your face, a few strands sticking to your forehead. 
“Y-yeah.” You shakily breathe out, your voice hoarse from the activities that had just taken place. As you try to prop yourself up on your shoulders, you wince, a pain shooting through you. “Just sore.” You murmured, suddenly shy under the musician’s gaze. You didn’t dare look at him anymore, a twinge of shame filling your heart. 
“Hey, sweetheart, come here.” He mumbled, scooting closer, not daring to pull out just yet. He pulls you up, legs entangled with each other in a pile of limbs, unsure of where one person ended and the other began. He pressed your warm body to his, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, rubbing soothing circles over your back, his gentle voice whispering sweet nothings to you. 
“Thank you, Eddie.” You mumbled into his skin, placing a tender kiss over a forming bruise. “That was something else.” He hummed in agreement, allowing his eyes to flutter close for a second, letting himself enjoy a fleeting moment of human contact while he was on tour. While the guys were wonderful and he loved them to death, there was a certain intimacy that he missed in lovers. One that he didn’t indulge in as much these days. 
Reluctantly, he pulled out and you pulled away, debating whether to say anything to him, or whether you wanted to indulge in some more pleasantries. If you were any wiser and more observant you’d have noticed the longing in his eyes, his gaze trailing over your figure as you pushed away to gather your belongings. It was odd to say that the musician would have wanted you to stick around for some more aftercare, it would have been even stranger if he admitted to you that he just wanted you to stick around post coitus and have a drink, maybe a smoke, and get to know each other. 
“Hey, hang on, let me clean you up.” His voice softened, taking you aback. “Come on, pet, I’m not gonna leave you like this.” He gets up only to tuck himself back into his slick soaked uniform, cringing as he does so. He grabs a water bottle from the nearby table and a small cloth kept on the vanity in the far corner of the room. “Come on, just sit.” He motioned back over to the couch and watched as you hesitantly padded over. You sat down on the cleanest area you could find, squirming as you began to feel Eddie’s cum slipping out of you. 
“S’fine, you don’t have to.” You mumbled, turning away from the man. He sighed as he approached you, sinking to his knees before starting to clean your thighs. He worked his way up between your legs, cleaning the leaking spend from your cunt. He placed a few gentle kisses to the tops of your thighs, your eyes flicking over to him as he did so. That was the moment you got a good look at the man. Dark ink littered his skin, barely an inch was pure, untouched, the only areas you couldn’t see his tattoos were the areas in which you had drawn blood, the dried fluid flaking slowly. He continued cleaning you up, rubbing gentle and warm circles with the wet cloth. Part of you couldn’t help but find this incredibly thoughtful, your heart squeezing at the gestures, but the other half of you believed that you were probably just an easy lay. 
“Hush, yes I do. It’s the least I can do.” His doe eyes met yours as he looked up at you through his lashes. “I made a mess of you, darling, and I need to clean you up.” His voice was sincere, soft even, and you couldn’t help but melt. You allowed him to tend to your tired limbs, and once he got to your neck, he apologised, knowing that it would probably hurt. You couldn’t help but stare at the softness behind his eyes, the fire that burned within had fizzled out and was replaced by some unnamed emotion. As the towel made contact with your neck, you winced, earning yourself a kiss from the musician. It shocked you that even after the heat of the lustful moment he was still willing to kiss you but you accepted it, melting into his lips. They were soft, a little chapped, but inviting nonetheless. 
“Thank you.” You whispered against them, afraid your voice would give out if you spoke any louder. Your hand came up to his face, brushing your thumb over his sharp cheekbone before placing your forehead against his. “You’re sweeter than I anticipated.” 
“And you’re kinkier than I anticipated.” He retorted and moved back gently, only to give himself room to fold the towel over to a clean side before cleaning up your face with a gentle hand. “Thank you for indulging me.” He cooed out to you, his sincerity going straight to your heart. You couldn’t help but nod. 
“I should go.” Your voice broke, and in that same moment, so did Eddie’s heart. There was something to you that drew him in, that he wanted more of, that he craved. It flew past just the need for human contact, part of it had to do with the way you ran with the punches he threw, you went with the game you played from the stage all the way to the back room. Eddie nodded solemnly, pushing away. 
“Yeah, uh…” He bit his lip, tossing the washcloth on the coffee table. Surely worse things had been on that surface in the past, but right now Eddie didn’t care about that, not about what was on that table, what would be in the future, or what he just threw onto it. “You don’t have to, I actually, I don’t know that I want you to. Can I at least buy you a drink?” He asked, standing up straight. You turn around, grabbing your pants so you could slip them back on over your legs. 
“You want to buy me a drink?” There’s a hopeful tinge to your voice, head shooting over to look at the musician in question. As you did, you hissed out gently, the garden of blooming roses on your neck blossoming farther across your neck, bite marks adorning your skin like dark tattoos. There was no denying what had gone on. 
“Sweetheart, I think we both left a mark on one another,” he teased, “when you pray to the devil so well, I think it’s hard for him to resist.” A twinkle in his eyes told you it was more than just the sex you both had. “Besides, it might help with the pain. What do you say?” 
“Mhmm,” you hummed as if you were deep in thought, “only if the devil can treat me right.” You mused. “You going to change first?” You waggled your eyebrows, referring to his squirt-soaked trousers, only to receive a smirk in return.  “Oh no sweetheart, I wear my battle scars with pride.” With that, he pushed back to grab his helmet, slipping it back over his head before taking your hand in his and leading you off to the bar. He wasn’t what you expected, none of it was, the show, the music, Eddie, but as you took his hand you couldn’t help the feeling brewing in your chest; the feeling that maybe the unexpected was exactly what you needed.
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taglist: @munson-blurbs @the-unforgivenn @littlesubbyflower @word-wytch (if you want) @rip-quizilla @hellfire--cult @mystish
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juyeonszn · 7 months
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BAD IDEA RIGHT?
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PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader
WORD COUNT 4.10k
GENRES … smut
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, literally porn with plot. like i’m so insane, enemies to “we fuckin” as reese put it 🥰, frat boy tbz again!!!, juyo is literally so irritating in the first half im not even gonna lie, he’s also a manwhore, making out, reader is a bit of a brat, juyeon has a dirty mouth, kinda dom!juyeon, vaginal fingering, oral (m! receiving), SHOWER SEX !12!1!, he’s hitting it from the back btw, unprotected sex, creampie, juyeon is actually… i don’t even know how to describe him writing his character made me want to claw at the walls lol
SUMMARY deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. but paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.
MORE heheheh im back 🤭 oh my god this was actually the cause of a week full of sleepless nights. i genuinely drove myself crazy writing this bc NEED FRRRR like idk i’m so 😭 delusional. ANYWAYS. ANON. THIS ONE IS FOR U. U REQUESTED THIS AND I RAN WITH IT. u wanted more juyeon, i deliver more juyeon ;) also shout out to ally, moni, AND reese for beta’ing 🥺 i love u my cupcakes!! prompt used: 18 <3
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble
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If there was anyone on Earth that you hated more than anything, it had to be Lee Juyeon.
To put things plainly, he was quite literally the bane of your existence. Being around him made your blood pressure skyrocket and gave you migraines that lasted for days. It was insane how one person could affect you so much by doing so little. It seemed as if he thrived off of getting under your skin.
Considering he was the captain and the pitcher of the baseball team, it wasn’t shocking. He was also a member of one of the most popular fraternities on campus. But he happened to be roommates with one of your best friends, and that made it ten times worse.
You’d known Changmin since third grade, along with Kevin and Chanhee. When he mentioned he’d be joining a fraternity in college, you were a bit apprehensive. All you knew about them was what you’d read in YA books and seen in movies. Neither gave them a good rep. Part of you wanted to talk him out of it, but you knew this was something you had to let him do, given you were adults and it was his college experience. At least you still had the other two under one roof.
The first time you met Juyeon was also the first time you attended a frat party. Changmin had just passed his initiation after waiting a year and he invited all of you to celebrate. You were excited for the most part since high school parties were more for an adrenaline rush due to the fact that your parents never let you go to them and you either snuck out or lied about going. You didn’t have to worry about the limitations of parents this go around.
The boys disappeared almost immediately upon arrival, leaving you to fend for yourself in the very crowded fraternity house. You could hardly pass through a room without bumping into somebody’s shoulder or elbow, huffing as you maneuver around the house equivalent to a sardine can. Your drink nearly spilled onto your top multiple times and you were glad you decided against the heels for the night.
You chugged the rest of the jungle juice in your cup as you stepped onto the patio, where it’s just as noisy and just as packed. You’re lucky enough to find an empty lounge chair near the house’s pool, unoccupied and calling your name. When your legs touch the plastic chair, you flinch at how hot it is, most likely from being in the sun all day.
“Woah, do you want a cushion?”
You look up at the source of the voice. You’ve seen him around campus before, and even at Changmin’s games. Lee Juyeon was just one of those people that you had to know, unless you’d been living under a rock. Just like everyone else in the world, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. From this distance, you truly understood why girls would giggle like high schoolers over the guy.
“Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be great actually.” You nod, watching as he wanders towards the shed in the corner of the big ass backyard. He returns promptly, holding his red solo cup between his teeth and one hand on your lower back guiding you to a standing position so he could place down the cushion.
“As a thank you, can I get your name?” He gives you a cocky little smile that should’ve been a warning. And looking back on it, you should’ve seen his true personality sooner, to be completely honest. The way his lips curled at the corners, like a conniving bastard who got off on irritating others.
“It’s Y/N,” you say, messing with your empty cup. “I’d ask for yours, but I kinda already know.”
He laughs at that, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s not surprising.” It’s at this point that you’re starting to see through his sweet facade, but despite knowing better— despite always keeping your guard up— you let yourself fall for it just this once. All because you didn’t want to fuck things up for Changmin. He owed you big time.
“Well, you are a talented athlete.” You didn’t want to fuel what is probably already a massive ego, but you’d rather compliment his baseball skills than the fact that he was infamous for screwing around with half of the girls on campus. Technically, that was a feat of its own since he’d only been in school for a year.
“Oh, so you think I’m talented?” He rested a hand on your chair, leaning down to your level. Confidence oozed from every corner of his being and if you weren’t so self aware, perhaps you could’ve ended up like all those other victims of his charismatic behavior.
“I go to the games for Changmin,” you scoff, glancing away from his face to stop the heat rising up your neck. “I’ve only paid attention to you once or twice.”
“Yeah, sure. Let's go with that,” he bites his lip, blatantly checking you out. “I wouldn’t mind paying attention to you a little.”
“I’m unimpressed, Juyeon,” you snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does this shit really work on everyone?”
“I can drop the act if you want, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop playing hard to get.” He stands upright, running a hand through his hair.
Every time you ran into Lee Juyeon after that, he was more and more insufferable. He knew his influence on you, too, if his smug fucking grin was anything to go by. You wish you could just slap it off of him. However, you stood by being the bigger person in any given situation, so that was off the table. (And half of you still felt a moral obligation to not get your friend into hot water.)
“Would it kill you to play nice every once in a while? I do live with the dude, you know.” Changmin whines, trailing you in the supermarket like a lost puppy.
“He’s got a point, N/N,” Kevin adds, humming as he tosses a boxed dinner into the cart. “I get that he’s a little bit of an overconfident douche, but rolling your eyes at him when he hasn’t even done anything just makes it worse on you. And JiChang, too, I guess.”
“Bro…”
You weren’t even sure why he decided to tag along with you and the other boys when you mentioned grocery shopping. In fact, he might as well have stayed his ass home if he was just going to gang up on you the whole time. Chanhee sighs dramatically, bringing your shopping cart to a halt.
“Can we not have a peaceful grocery trip? Is that impossible or something?” His lips form a thin line. “I swear, all we do is talk about how much Y/N hates Lee Juyeon. Can we please move on?”
“Thank you, Chanhee, I agree,” you nod along, walking backwards as you do so and ignoring the faces your friends make. “He makes me want to kill myself.”
“Who makes you want to kill yourself?”
You jump up, frightened by the sudden voice in your ear. Your friends all give you sheepish smiles, as if they’d already tried to warn you. (What shitty jobs they did.) With a hand over your heart, you turn around to meet— speak of the devil— none other than Lee Juyeon himself.
“What are you doing here?” Your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest. Luck could never be on your side when it came to this guy.
“Uh, last I checked, this was a public supermarket. Where I can publicly shop. I wasn’t aware that I had to run that by you. So sorry, sweetheart.” He pouts, his expression so theatrical you nearly give in to your constant urge to punch him in the face.
You feel your eye twitch, and it takes everything in you to step back and assess just how bad it would be if you committed murder right now. Changmin comes to your rescue, doing damage control as best as he can while Kevin attempts to talk you out of becoming a criminal.
The two frat brothers do their little fraternity handshake thing and then finally he’s out of sight, out of mind, allowing you to visibly relax. Chanhee purses his lips. “Okay, so maybe I do see where the anger comes from. And holy shit, Y/N, you have the patience of a saint.”
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“The person you have called is unavailable! At the tone, please leave a message. When you have finished recording, you may—”
“Goddammit.” You curse, ending the unsuccessful call.
The downside of working far from campus, was working far from campus. You didn’t have your own car and usually relied on one of your roommates for a ride to and from. But now here you are, stranded at work while it’s pouring cats and dogs outside. Kevin was in class and Chanhee wasn’t picking up his phone. You could call Changmin, but you’re pretty sure he also had a class around this time.
Just as you’re about to succumb to your demise, you receive a text from Chanhee.
[2:57 pm] michael jackson: IM SO SORRY AJNSSJNW BUT SOMETHING CAME UP WITH A GROUP PROJECT
[2:57 pm] michael jackson: DONT WORRY THOUGH, IVE GOT IT COVERED UR STILL GETTING PICKED UP
“Could today get any worse?” You mutter to yourself, locking your phone and tossing it into your purse. As if your timing couldn’t be better, you spoke entirely too soon. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar car rolling up under the carport. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because you had no idea who could be your saving grace. Chanhee was a wild card so who knew who he had on speed dial.
But then the passenger window rolls down and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Lee Juyeon grins that stupid fucking grin of his, beckoning you to his car as it unlocks when he shifts into park. You shake your head.
“No way. There is absolutely no way I am getting into that car.” You shout over the pelting rain.
Juyeon tsks, his eyes rolling when he reaches over the center console to open the door for you. “Is there anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to pick you up in this weather?”
Your lips pull into a flat line. The answer was no, you didn’t have anyone else who would drop everything they were doing to pick you up in this weather. That was the reason Juyeon was here, you supposed. It didn’t mean you weren’t at least going down without a fight, though. Except, Lee Juyeon was a man who was all too comfortable with how expressive you were. Most notably towards him.
“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”
“Fuck you. I’d rather walk.” You seethe, starting straight in the direction of your apartment. Juyeon groans at first, your constant need to prove yourself getting on his nerves for once. Then his eyes widen slightly when he realizes you’re not joking.
The truth was that the rain was freezing and you’d love to be in the shelter of a warm car. In fact, you didn’t really care that Juyeon was the person driving. But you were too deep into the bit now. You couldn’t just turn around and get in the car, for you had a pride to protect at this point.
“Shit.” Juyeon swears under his breath, reaching into the backseat to grab an umbrella. Sure he loved to tease you and rile you up, but he wasn’t cruel. Your friends would have his head on a silver platter if he let anything happen to you.
You pause in your steps when you’re no longer being showered in rain water. Juyeon holds the umbrella over your head with a worried expression. You feel kind of bad for making him chase after you even though he’d already gone out of his way to pick you up. Sometimes you wish your ego wasn’t so fragile. Maybe then you could accept help when you needed it instead of making things worse.
“Can you please stop being so stubborn and just get in the damn car, Y/N? Do you have to make everything difficult all the time?” Usually, pissing you off made him over the moon, but you can tell he’s not exactly pleased at the moment. You swallow thickly, nodding quietly and following him back to his car.
The whole drive to your apartment is silent save for the song playing on his speakers. It’s not as loud in comparison to the storm outside, but you’re grateful that it’s filling the space between you. If only Lee Juyeon hadn’t done such an excellent job ticking you off like a bomb, then maybe you would’ve just hopped in the passenger seat with ease. But no, he had to goad you until you made an irrational decision and now here you are.
As he pulls up to your building, you say a little prayer that you don’t regret your next actions. He stops as close to the stairs as he can, but you turn to him before unbuckling your seatbelt. With a deep breath, you ask, “Would you like to— uh— come inside?”
He glances from you to the stairs and then shrugs, parking in the nearest empty spot. He holds the umbrella over both of you as you make your way to your unit, lightly sprinting so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are. You figured the least you could do was invite the dude into your home and offer him some hot tea, just so he could warm up before heading back to the TBZ house. Your roommates not being here to make fun of you was also a plus.
There’s still an unspoken tension even after you’ve shed your raincoats and shoes by the front door, settling into your apartment and its coziness. Juyeon sits at the breakfast bar as you busy yourself with preparing the kettle and getting a couple tea bags. His watchful gaze is a little intimidating now that you’ve seen his serious side.
Once you’ve finished making the tea, you set his mug in front of him. You look everywhere but him when you say, “I’m gonna take a shower if you’re okay waiting out here by yourself.” He doesn’t respond verbally, so you take it as your cue to leave.
You turn on the water to let it heat up before gathering your essentials. When you’ve completed your back and forth trip from the bathroom and your bedroom, you’re finally ready to just relax in your shower and forget about today’s events. But how could you ever truly relax with Lee Juyeon in your space, permeating your peace?
As you’re shutting the bathroom door, a foot jams itself between the threshold and stops you. You glance up from the floor to meet Juyeon’s eyes. They’re darker than you’re used to, a deep shade of brown that has your stomach twisting into knots.
“You know, Y/N, this game of cat and mouse is starting to get old,” he takes a step into the steaming room, locking the door behind him and trapping you. “Just admit to yourself that you want me.”
You sputter at his bold words, because you don’t. You don’t want Lee Juyeon. Why would you want Lee Juyeon? “I’m not gonna lie to myself. I don’t want you.”
He laughs humorlessly, closing the gap between you just a little more. You don’t have it in you to back away from him. He reaches a hand up to tuck some damp hair behind your ear. You’re still wet and cold from your stupid idea to walk in the rain, but Juyeon plans to warm you up perfectly. “You sure?”
“Positive,” you breathe.
“Why don’t we test that theory?” Now he’s got you backed into the wall, his face a hair’s breadth distance from your own. “I have a feeling I can change your mind.”
You don’t know if it’s the heat of the bathroom or Juyeon’s lips being so close, but so far simultaneously that has your brain turning into static. Your head feels fuzzy, like you’re watching TV on an empty channel through a blurry lens. You lick your lips, vision trained on his. “Why don’t we?”
That’s all the confirmation he needs to press your mouths together in a searing kiss, hotter than the temperature of the room. You feel him smile against you when you make no move to push him away, instead carding your fingers through his hair. He groans when you tug a bit, twirling the longer strands around your index.
His hands slip under your top, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. This is a terrible idea. Deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into Juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. But paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.
When you part for air, you both start stripping your top layers, resuming your attacks on each other’s lips once you’re left in nothing but undergarments. Juyeon trails kisses along the side of your neck, nipping and sucking wherever he feels fit. You gasp when he finds that particular spot that contributes to the butterflies fluttering about your stomach. “God, you’re so annoying.”
“Yeah?” And despite getting ready to give you the pleasure of your life, his grin against your skin still manages to irritate you. “You hate me so much, huh?”
“Mhm,” you whine as his fingers dip beneath the band of your panties, toying with your sensitive cunt. “Hate you so bad— ah…”
“You might wanna shut up soon, sweetheart,” Juyeon warns, sliding his ring finger between your lower lips. “Or else I’ll give that mouth something to do.”
“I’ll do whatever I want,” you pull his hand from your underwear, kneeling in front of him when he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Your nails scrape lightly down his abdomen before hooking into the waistband of his briefs, freeing him from the material. It takes a lot out of you to not visibly react at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed to the tip. You couldn’t dare inflate his ginormous ego, the situation you were currently in already doing enough on its own. His size is impressive too, making you wonder just how he expects you to take him like a champ.
“What a fucking brat,” he hisses, your tongue swiping along the underside of his dick. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”
“Mmmm,” you moan, mouth full with just the tip. You’d never been the type of person who cared about size. As long as they knew what they were doing and made you finish, you held no qualms with their length. In fact, you don’t think you ever even paid much attention to anyone’s dick in your life. But if there was anything to back Lee Juyeon’s cockiness, it had to be, well, his cock.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he confesses, wrapping your hair around his hand into a makeshift ponytail. “But, fuck, this is so much better.”
The admission shoots straight to your core and you find yourself whimpering, the vibrations against his dick driving him crazy. He has to support his weight with one hand flat to the wall, the other still tightly fisting your hair. With every suck and flick of your tongue, he tugs a little more, the sting on your scalp providing you with more pleasure than pain. You pull off of him to take a breath, jerking him off as you do so.
“Am I meeting your expectations?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, drool sliding down your chin and makeup smeared under your eyes in tear streaks. He groans at the sight of you, forcing you to a standing position so he could kiss you again.
You start dragging him towards the shower, unhooking your bra and stepping out of your panties. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, baby? Have you slipping all over my cock?”
“Duh,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his question, practically pawing at his underwear to get him out of them fully. “Did you think I sucked your dick on the bathroom floor for fun?”
“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”
He kicks them off, reconnecting your lips as you step into the shower. The hot water hits your back almost like a massage, synchronously getting in your mouth as you make out with Juyeon aggressively. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, big hands kneading and groping everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel insane, especially with how good of a kisser he is. It’s like you’re on cloud nine and nothing’s capable of bringing you down.
When he’s finally lost his patience, he spins you around, pressing you cheek first to the shower wall. You feel him against your lower back, his lips leveling with your ear. In spite of acting as if he had himself under control, you can hear the pant in his breathing, deep voice a little desperate than usual. He has a hand gripping your thigh and picking up your leg.
“No protection?” He asks, his cock already gliding between your folds in anticipation.
“Mm-mm,” you shake your head as best you can with his body sandwiching you to the tiled surface. “Wanna feel you raw.”
“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me,” Juyeon groans into your ear, giving no warning as he spits down your front and hikes your leg higher, thrusting into your cunt. “You’ll make me wanna stay buried in you forever.”
You moan, hand coming up to hold the side of his head as he fucks you into the shower wall. If someone were to ask about this very moment, you weren’t too sure how you’d defend yourself. A moment of weakness, perhaps? But if a moment of weakness felt this fucking good every time, you might fall into a habit of judgment lapses.
He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting your shoulder and the surrounding area with each snap of his hips. The angle he drives into you at has stars forming at the back of your vision, the tip of his cock brushing that one spot deep inside of you whenever he thrusts up. You don’t even think his entire dick is in you as he does this, but you also don’t really have the mind to care, way too focused on memorizing the veins of his shaft with your walls.
You’re far too gone to consider the consequences of your actions, the horizon of your release just beyond your fingertips now. You’d never needed someone so viscerally before, so carnally. Yet here you were, sucking Lee Juyeon’s cock in with your pussy like you were a damn vacuum. The sounds you’re making bounce back and forth on the walls, no doubt louder than the shower water itself.
“I— I-I’m so— fuck,” you mewl, words wobbling. “I’m so, so close, Juyo.”
“Yeah, baby?” He sighs in your ear, nudging your sensitive clit with his thumb while raising your leg as much as he physically can. “Me too, where do you want me?”
“Inside,” you don’t think you even make sense anymore, babbling as he continues to fuck you stupid. “Please. Want you to cum inside me.”
Juyeon grits his teeth, pleased with himself that he didn’t orgasm right then and there. He uses his last ounce of strength to get the two of you off together. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”
The fogginess subsides pretty quickly after you’ve finished, your brain registering what just happened almost instantaneously. If you weren’t so hypersensitive, you would’ve pulled him out yourself and scrambled to flee the scene. (And maybe even the country.) There are many more rational thoughts running through your head now. The entire trajectory of your life has just been changed, whether you realized it or not. But the biggest issue was:
What the hell do you do now?
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© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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nackrosor · 9 months
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~Midnight Healing~
𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻
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[I highly recommend to put this song on repeat as background music. It will help set the mood.]
warnings/tags: 18+ smut, p*rn with feelings & plot, unexperienced reader, first kiss, first time, oral s*x (fem receiving), p in v, soft Ghost, slow dance, mutual pining, slight angst/comfort, Soap being the best mate, the team being supporting in their own way lmao, cap. price approved 👌🏻 summary: You're at the pub, enjoying a night out with your team. The soothing lulling music, the booze, Johnny's taunts and your own repressed feelings embolden you to invite Simon to join you in a slow dance. The dance leads to long overdue confessions which in turn lead to your first time together. word count: 12.5k. (longest one yet)
A special and huge thank you to my dear @magnoliabutters who has helped me SO MUCH. You've given me so many suggestions that inspired me to write the best possible version of this story. I probably would have given up halfway through if it wasn't for your support. I love you and appreciate you a lot. ♥️
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You close your eyes and take a deep breath, elbows resting on the smooth surface of the counter with a thumb circling the cold rim of your half-full glass of bourbon. The soothing blues music playing in the background adds to your sense of calm, with notes vibrating through your limbs, echoing in your ribcage, and clearing your thoughts. You let yourself be lulled by the soft melancholy tune, quietly humming along and rocking your head in rhythm. 
Given your job as a task force officer, you rarely get a breather and a chance to enjoy a night out. It is a luxury for you and that is what makes it so special, a time to truly look forward to. Especially when you can share it with your brothers in arms, your family, not bonded by blood but by a profound feeling born through shared hardships and nurtured by trust, respect and understanding. One would imagine you'd prefer to spend your free nights alone or with different people, perhaps even a one-night lover, rather than with your coworkers, the very same guys you spend your entire days with, through sweat and tears, anger and frustration, and occasionally a moment of respite. This is exactly the reason why you wouldn’t dare unwind with anyone else; they are everything for you, the sole people you trust and you would gladly give your life for without hesitation. Why would you need anybody else? 
Seeing them loosen up for one night, just enough to treat themselves to a pint or a glass of whiskey is such the delight. You wouldn’t even need to chug a drink of your own to feel the tension leave your body, finally allowing yourself to relax. 
This time is no exception. Same place, same company, same feeling of being exactly where you need to be, of needing literally nothing else in the world.
"Enjoying yourself?" 
Soap's voice sounds clear in your ear and interrupts your blues-induced trance. A lazy smile greets you as you turn to look up at him. He settles down on the barstool next to you.
"Yeah… I love this music. It feels like a lullaby but instead of making me want to sleep, it makes me want to move, you know? "
"Sounds like you want to hit the dance floor! Care to give us a show?" 
"Wouldn't you like that!" 
You smirk at him, bumping your shoulder against his.
"Who wouldn’t?” he returns the nudge, playfully winking at you, “But I know someone who would particularly enjoy it, more than anybody else."
You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. Every time you come to the pub, you can't avoid one or two, occasionally three, drunken brash males hitting on you or simply gluing their eyes on you from afar, never stopping for the entire time you're here. You'd think that being literally surrounded by four menacing - some more than others - muscular men would prevent anyone from ever looking your way twice, especially weak-minded misogynists who don't believe a woman could take care of herself… That clearly isn't the case. Go figure! These people have no sense of shame or… self-preservation. 
"What ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude is staring at me this time?" 
A chuckle escapes him. He shakes his head as he swirls the liquid in his glass before taking a sip. 
“No ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude , just a possibly ugly dude.”
"Oh?" a wry smile takes form on your lips, "well, I could get behind that."
"He's been throwing some not-so-sneaky glances your way ever since we arrived."
"Yeah?”, you ask, taking a quick glance around the room. “Coordinates, Sergeant. Don’t leave me in the dark."
Soap's eyes glint mischievously as he subtly nods to your left, then raises his glass to his lips to take another sip and mask his grin. You follow the trajectory of his nod, gaze skimming the whole length of the counter, overlooking the serene faces of Gaz, Laswell, the captain, until it locks on a familiar pair of big dark eyes. The smirk on your lips immediately falters and your stomach flips. 
Simon is holding your gaze, seemingly unfazed, arms folded across his chest and muscles flexing under his black windbreaker. No matter how accustomed you are to seeing him in his casual attire, your heart always loses a beat whenever your eyes land on him. The way his skull balaclava hugs his face and the way the hood of his dark grey sweatshirt is all the way up, hiding his head, make his mesmerising eyes circled with black make-up even more striking and thus much more lethal to your poor weak heart. You’re so attracted to him, so infatuated… you’ve never felt this inexorable pull toward anyone before. It’s like a new form of gravity, so strong that you can’t even avert your gaze; it takes too much effort, like going against the laws of nature. 
Soap’s giggle draws you back from the trance. Your eyes dart around aimlessly for a moment before you whip around to glare at your friend.
“You’re a bastard.”
He shrugs innocently, that stupid grin of his still tugging at his lips.
"You saw it for yourself, he was staring."
"Yeah, 'cause he probably heard you or read your lips or… something."
"Right,” he says with a scoff, elongating the word. “Didn’t know superman was part of the 141…"
His mocking tone makes you roll your eyes. Grabbing your glass, you bring it to your lips and savour the sensation of the cool, sweet but strong liquid flowing down your throat. As you knock the empty glass back onto the counter, you catch a glimpse of Ghost. Fortunately, this time he appears to be engaged in discussion with Price, providing you with the green light that allows your wistful gaze to linger on him, unnoticed. 
"Well, you must admit that…”, you mutter almost to yourself, eyes reverently roaming his figure, “...if anyone had superpowers in our team, it would definitely be him." 
"Heh. You certainly look at him as if he already has them."
Johnny interrupts your reveries again and you shake your head, tearing your eyes away from Simon and trying to clear your mind in the process. "Stop it. He's just, he's-" 
"He's single, for all I know." 
The sergeant shrugs again with an innocent smile as you give him the stink-eye.
"You’re a menace ."
You poke him hard in the ribs, causing him to wince and almost spill his drink. You both can’t help but laugh.
“I swear if you told him or anyone anything… I'll strangle you in your sleep.”
“Mmm, so passionate, y/n. He’s gonna love that.”
You roll your eyes again, yet can't help but smile.
Soap is your best mate; you're closer to him than the rest of the squad, which is saying a lot given how close the team is. You may or may not have let your feelings for Simon slip during a private conversation one night at the HQ while you were a little tipsy, and he's been a little shit about it since then, unwilling to let you live it down. You know it's all in good fun, there's no malice in his words, but his taunts do nothing to help you keep your feelings under control. 
“You should tell him, by the way.”
“We’ve already talked about this, Johnny…”
“I just don’t understand why you’re keeping it to yourself. You scared of getting rejected?”
You shrug, your gaze fixed on the empty glass in front of you as you fidget with it absentmindedly. He struck a nerve. Taking the first step without being absolutely certain that your feelings are reciprocated and thus making a colossal blunder scares the shit out of you. Actually, the mere thought of taking a shot in the dark makes your stomach churn with dread. 
“Y/n, he would never turn you down. Never .”
“You don’t know that.”
Soap scoffs incredulously. “C’mon! You’ve seen the way he looks at you! There’s nothing PG-13 about it.”
He pauses for a moment waiting for your retort but when you don't give him any, he draws conspiratorially close to your ear. “Although, I guess you don’t get to hear what he says about you when it’s just us boys…”
You perk up, turning toward him with a curious and clearly hopeful look on your face. Does he know something you don’t? Or is he messing with you? You can never tell with Soap.
“W-what does he say?”
Soap grins victoriously, undoubtedly pleased with himself for catching you failing, yet again, to hide your stupid little crush. 
"Gave my word that I would keep my mouth shut..."
“Ugh!", you push him away with a hard smack on his arm, "you’re insufferable.”
“Go talk to him and find out on your own. In the unlikely case that what you fear the most happens, any of us smart boys would gladly take his place in your heart, love ."
You shake your head with a scoff, eyes drifting aimlessly to the other side of the room. Turns out, Johnny was trying to get under your skin, as per usual, however you can’t help but mull his words over.
Perhaps he's got a point, perhaps it is time to let it all out in the open and face the consequences , whatever they might be. Johnny said that Simon has talked about you with the guys. It might be nothing, but what if he really has let his own feelings slip during a conversation, just like when it happened to you with Soap? Or perhaps, he had a real heart to heart talk with his mates… 
You have your doubts, but then again why would Johnny mention that he spoke of you? Why would he try so hard to reassure you that Simon would never reject you? Why would he stress out the fact that he often gets caught staring at you? Could your friend be doing this solely for a laugh? No, Johnny is not that kind of person. He cares about you and he clearly understands how much you care about Simon. He would not give you a friendly push merely to watch you fall face first to the ground. There must be some truth behind his jokes and teasing… but are you ready to risk it all to find out? Being rejected isn't the only fear that prevents you from acting on your feelings... 
"Whatever.” You sigh at last, propping yourself up by pushing your palms against the edge of the counter. “I'm here to unwind, not get caught up in my head as usual. So… now, I’m going to dance. And, just to be clear, I'm not doing it for you or Simon or anybody other than myself."
The pointed look you give him makes Soap raise his hands in defeat, however it doesn't wipe that little smirk off his face. The glass grazes his curled up lips as he looks at you with an amused twinkle in his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah… You'll thank me later.”
His words get lost in the rising bustle of the pub; the cacophony of voices and the clatter of glasses gets louder just as the music fills your ears the more you get away from the bar. The soothing tune comes out of two huge amps set at either side of an empty stage, and floods over you, the sole person standing in front of it. You feel a bit self-conscious at first, sensing everyone's eyes on you but you try your best to ignore them. Letting your eyes flutter shut, you focus solely on the music, allowing yourself to be transported by the slow lulling rhythm. 
Soon, you're swaying your hips in time, your feet picking up their own pattern. You don't care about how you're moving, how it may look; all you care about is letting go, setting yourself free, feeling the music pass through you, and being completely in the moment. You dance worry-free, entirely surrendering control of your body to the enthralling and sinuous voice of the electric guitar. Few things are more freeing than dancing like nobody’s watching…
The song comes to an end almost too quickly and so does the enchantment that has seized you. When you open your eyes, chancing a look around you, you immediately meet Simon’s stare. He's still sitting at the bar but now he's turned toward you, back to the polished wood of the counter, one elbow resting on its edge. Clearly he has been watching you the whole time, enjoying the show , as Soap said. You feel a thrill run through you. Perhaps it's the alcohol kicking in, perhaps those feelings pushed deep inside you are finally emerging to the surface. Or is it just the adrenaline of the dancing still holding control over your body? 
Regardless of the answer, you find yourself walking toward him; the initial notes of a new song matching your sultry and unhurried steps. He firmly holds your gaze, but you notice the shifting in his seat as you approach him with renewed confidence.
You stop when you’re right in front of him, a coy smile plays on your lips while you hold out your hand.
"Care to join me?" 
His eyes flicker to your extended palm then wander over your face, as if he's looking for a cue that would tell him whether you're joking or being serious.
"You're outta your mind, princess ."
You raise your eyebrow at the word 'princess'. He knows you don’t like to be called like that but he doesn't seem to care. He keeps using that stupid term, especially when he wants to reprimand you, putting you in your place or just to tease you and get under your skin. But there is something in the way he said it just now, an endearing nuance in his tone that combined with his thick accent makes you melt like chocolate.
"Why? You seemed really interested only a minute ago."
You tease him with a challenging look on your face while you nonchalantly tug down the zip of your biker jacket. After the dance you're feeling a bit flushed, you need to let your skin breathe. No other reason for uncovering your cleavage, right? Definitely not to draw his attention to the deep neckline of your dress. Of course not, why would you do that? 
"I was only-" 
You interrupt him, arms folding across your chest, drawing his eyes even more to the curves of your body. " Enjoying the show , right."
"No.” He counters quickly, his voice loud and clear even over the music. Doesn’t he sound a little nervous? Or are you simply imagining it? 
“I was just… glad to see this carefree side of you. It's a good look on you."
You stare into each other’s eyes, your heart thumping hard in your chest. You didn’t expect to hear him say that.
"Well…”, you bite your lip as you try to ease your racing heart, arms falling back to your sides, “...dancing is very freeing. You should try it."
"I don't think it would work for me."
"Why don't we find out?" 
Shivering just a little, you take another step forward. His head slightly cranes up so that he can keep his piercing gaze on yours. You move your hand on his wrist, fingers wrapping gently around it before giving a little pull in your direction.
"C'mon…", you give him a teasing smile as you step back, head nodding back to the space behind you, “...let’s go.”
Despite your pulling, Simon doesn’t budge a single inch, but you see him hesitate. You keep tugging at his wrist, stepping backwards, even attempting to pout, until he silently relents and stands up, letting you drag him toward the stage at last. You didn't expect him to give up. You thought you'd have to put much more effort into it, or that you'd have to be the one giving up in the end. You're genuinely surprised by the turn of events but you won't let that dent your spirit now. You've just started playing with fire and you can't help but feel the thrill of it, the excitement lighting up inside of you. 
You stop when you reach the spot you previously made your own during your solo dance and turn around to face him. He stands there, tall and motionless, the hood of his sweatshirt still on; he looks so out of place on the dance floor, the sight makes you chuckle.
"Don't worry Si, nobody would dare judge you."
"I don't care about that."
"No?"
With a smile on your face, a gaze fixed on him, you start to sway your hips in sync again. His eyes immediately flicker down to take in your movements. He doesn’t seem to care about the fact that he looks like a freaking pole, standing so still in front of you, not moving even one muscle. His whole focus is on you and he seems to particularly enjoy being able to watch you from the best seat in the house.
“You could move your shoulders a little bit, you know? Or even just nod your head in time with the music.”
It’s so evident that he doesn’t know what to do with his body, where to even begin. You almost feel guilty of having dragged him there, of putting him on the spot.
“Here, follow my steps.”
You pick up a simple left-to-right footwork, following the slow but steady rhythm of the drums and encourage Ghost to mirror your motions with a nod and a gentle smile. He studies you, eyes observing your body attentively, picking up every little movement you make. 
He appears quite stiff as he attempts to follow along; his bulky body doesn't seem keen to make him look as graceful on the dancefloor as it does on the battlefield. But he's trying at least, and quickly getting the hang of it.
“That’s it! You’re not half bad, Si!” 
A soft chuckle escapes you as you bite your bottom lip. Seeing him dance - or try to - makes you oddly giddy, euphoric even. It's just such a rare and bizarre thing to see that you can't help but smile wide and enjoy the moment to the fullest.
Raising your arms in the air, you swing your hips and bend your knees as you lower your body to the ground, only to raise up again, twisting your curves like a snake. The thrill of his probing stare piercing you causes you to shudder; his eyes are unwavering, admiring your every move with utmost devotion. Having his undivided attention makes you feel alive, it makes you feel special and bold. 
You take a step closer and reach out to grab both of his hands in yours, your movements mellowing to fit his laid-back rocking. His calloused hands are surprisingly soft and warm as they wrap perfectly around yours, like matching pieces of a puzzle; his touch feels comforting, stable, safe. As you look up at him, eyes locking once again, you feel your heart pound rapidly in your chest. A small smile takes form on your lips to mask the turmoil rising within you.
“This feels… nice, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
Your heart soars upon hearing his answer, smile widening.
“I didn't know you could dance."
"I can't dance”, you correct him with a light chuckle, “I simply enjoy moving my body to the music."
"Never seen you do that before."
"Well, most of you guys don't even like listening to music, so I only get to do it when I'm on my own… which is a rare occurrence since apparently you babies can’t leave me alone for more than one minute."
You squeeze his hands playfully, a cheeky grin playing on your face. You notice his eyes crinkle lightly in response.
"You can use my office, if you want. There's enough room to… move around."
You let out a hearty laugh, head shaking softly. Your eyes lower to the floor for a moment, monitoring the way both your feet move perfectly in sync and at the same time picturing the silly image in your mind.
"You gonna sit at your desk, grumbling over your paperwork while, with music blasting in my ears, I dance like nobody’s watching right in front of you?" 
"Why not,” he says with a shrug.
His voice doesn’t betray his collected demeanour, but you know he’s smiling underneath that mask.
"Well, for one…”, you raise one eyebrow, giving him a knowing look, “I think it would get pretty distracting, rather quickly." You bring your joined hands to the level of your eyes and his chest, slowly interlacing your fingers with his. The muscles of his arms seem to tense for a moment.
"...Fair enough."
"Secondly…”, you trail off, eyes flickering up to meet his serious stare, voice losing a bit of its jovial nuance, “...people might start talking."
"Who cares."
His remark is curt and blunt, and it takes you a bit by surprise. He actually sounds as though he wouldn't care less if your coworkers were to start spreading rumours about you two possibly being... intimate. Or perhaps you're merely grasping at straws. After all, you're talking about dancing. Nothing more, right? 
"You’re telling me that you wouldn’t care what the others may think or say?" your tone is clearly hesitant this time, vulnerable even, eyes frantically searching his, "...watching us dance like this? Being this close?"
He keeps silent for a long moment, gaze boring into yours. His hands then pull on your wrists, tugging you closer to him. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, while your hands fly onto his chest for support as a surprised gasp escapes your mouth.
“How could I give a crap about them or what they think… when I have you here in my arms?”
His straightforward statement catches you off-guard, causing you to stumble upon your feet. It feels like the tables have turned. Your flirtatiousness made him take the bait and now you’re the one who doesn’t know how to act. Your boldness instantly vanishes, it’s as if you never had it in you in the first place. A tardy nervous chuckle slips out of you as you struggle to regain your synced rocking.
“You must’ve had a drink too many, huh Si?”
“Never been more lucid in my life.”
You stare deeply into his eyes, a wild-eyed look on your face, as he firmly holds your gaze. Tension soaks the air around you, you can sense it getting thicker and thicker. Suddenly, there's not a single soul in the pub but you two. Your eyes locked, bodies swaying gently together, lightly brushing against one another. Your heart thumps forcefully against your chest. 
[ 2:26 min .]
… 
I just want to get your head back, baby
Give you all the love I got, for sure
So, baby, if you've got that feeling
You know I wanna give you that midnight healing
Oh, I just want to make love to you all night long
… 
Perhaps it's merely your perception, but the music appears to get louder. The song’s lyrics are now distinctly clear; they echo in your head, tickling your mind like a subtle hint intended specifically for you.
Returning your attention to Simon, you detect a strange glint in his eyes. Did he receive the hint as well? The way his grasp on your waist tightens, palms roving over your sides and drawing you even closer to him, seems to confirm your supposition.
You both seem to lean forward, attracted like magnets, until your faces are merely inches away. The music deafens, slowly making its way into the background, providing the perfect mood for this special moment. Neither of you says a word, instead you let your eyes speak for themselves. Everything around you seems to blur into a negligible mist. Simon has you hypnotised, just as the music did, with the intensity of his gaze and the warmth of his touch. As one of his hands slides up to your neck, fingers grazing the soft hollow area just above your pulse point, a sharp shiver travels up your spine. 
The room spins around you. All of a sudden, your heart pounds hard against your chest and in your ears. You sway on your feet with fingers tugging on his jacket to keep your balance. His hands move quickly to your back, to support your body as you shift your weight on him for a moment before catching yourself. You feel hot, dizzy, and out of breath. 
"Y/n?" 
"J-just give me a moment, will you?" You say rather harshly, unable to keep the rising panic and tension out of your voice.
His concerned gaze is the last thing you see before you abruptly pull away and dash back towards the counter, mind buzzing, chest tightening. You notice Soap’s smile drop into a puzzling look as he watches you rush over but before he can ask you anything, you hear Gaz's hesitant voice coming from behind you. 
"What's going on?" 
You throw a quick glance over your shoulder, instantly meeting his perplexed look. Your actions seem to have drawn the attention of Price and Laswell, too; you find both of their gazes set on you. 
You struggle to take deep breaths, your eyes darting aimlessly from one friendly face to another while your hands clutch around the table edges, fingertips turning white. It takes all your efforts to not raise your gaze toward the dance floor and rest it on the man still standing exactly where you have just left him. 
"Nothing! It's all going great!" 
Your voice comes out higher pitched than normal but you try to mask it with the most convincing smile you can muster. 
You turn toward Johnny before you can witness the other's reactions or give them time to question your words. Your friend pierces you with a questioning look that doesn't leave room for lies. 
"I-I think I'm gonna pass out."
He immediately reaches out to place a comforting hand on your arm as he slides his freshly refilled glass towards you.
"You ok? What happened?" 
Your hand shakes as you grab the drink. You rub it to your forehead, cheeks, and neck before moving it to your lips. The cool sensation of the glass against your feverish skin seems to ease your panic, even if only a little. You focus completely on the cold liquid scorching down your throat as you take a long sip. 
You gasp, pulling from the rim of the glass. "Nothing. It's just-" you take another deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut,"...it felt all-too real, all-too quickly, I guess. I'm not entirely sure. I panicked."
"Y/n," he coos softly, gently squeezing your arm, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to-" 
"But that's the point! I want it! We were so close, I mean… you saw it! If it wasn't for the mask, I’m pretty sure he would’ve leaned in for a kiss. I-I felt my heart was about to burst!” The words fall out of your mouth in a nervous rambling. “I wanted to close the distance so bad… that I fucking ran away." A deprecating chuckle escapes you, eyes rolling in disbelief. "I'm so fucking stupid!" 
Johnny squeezes your shoulder again, offering you a genuine smile.
"You are not stupid, y/n... Well, maybe just a little bit." He grins in response to your not-so-convincing glare. "Could a little more privacy help you feel better? You know there are rooms upstairs, you could always go there if you want to..."
You watch as his hand disappears inside his jacket and reappears a moment later, holding a small silver key between his fingers. He holds it out to you and you take it from him mindlessly.
Soap laughs as he detects the mute query in your stunned expression.
"I took it earlier thinking I might get lucky and use it for myself, but it looks like I’m not the lucky one tonight…"
Your gaze darts from your friend's face to the key, then back to him. Your heart starts racing again as the true meaning that small metallic object holds hits you like an unforeseen gunshot to the chest. You let out a loud groan, your hands flying to your face to hide your grimace.
"What is it now?"
"Johnny...", his name falls out of your lips in a sing-songy cry, barely audible above the music and chatter. Lips quivering both in embarrassment and fear for the confession you’re about to make. With a whisper, you share, "I've never been with anyone before... I've never even kissed anyone." You chance a look at your friend through your fingers. "What if I make a fool out of myself in front of Simon? Hell, who am I kidding? I-I already have!"
The astonished expression on Soap's face only aggravates your growing anxiety.
"Creeping Jesus! Y/n… I thought you… uhm, it’s okay-," he awkwardly shifts in his seat, his mouth opening and shutting without emitting a single sound, at least not one that you can hear. His gaze abruptly darts to the side, focusing on something far over your shoulder before moving back to rest on you with a barely concealed alarm. "Ok, take a deep breath, he's coming over."
You only have time to curse under your breath and pull your hands away from your face before you feel a presence behind you that makes every hair on your body stand on end.
When you hear your name being called, you turn warily to face the man standing by your side, stomach twisting as you meet his inquisitive stare. You believe you can also see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, too. 
"Simon, I'm… I'm-"
"She needed some fuel, L.T.!" Soap rushes to your aid, grinning up at Ghost and smacking him on the arm - a little too hard. "She's all good now… right, y/n?" 
He gives you a quizzical look, as if he's asking whether you're ready to handle the situation on your own or if you need more time; at least, that's what you believe he’s trying to convey.
You respond with a feeble nod before your gaze shifts to Simon. You offer him your glass. "A sip?"
He stares at you intently, seemingly studying your face, his expression now unreadable. 
"No."
"A-alright, more for me..." you fake a smile and then guzzle the drink all in one go. You slam the empty glass on the counter as you suck air through your teeth, grimacing at the piercing sensation of the scorching liquor spreading inside your system. Your gaze is drawn to Soap's, and you give him a somewhat confident smile, which he returns with a little wink.
Your hand then moves on its own accord, finding Ghost's large palm and interlacing your fingers with his; the contact sends a chill up your spine. When you look up at him, a ghost of a smile appears on your lips. You're not sure what you're doing or what's going to happen, but you try not to second-guess yourself too much and risk screwing up for the second time in a row.
Taking a step back, away from the counter, you beckon him to follow you.
"Come with me…"
He does not resist your pull. He does not hesitate for even one second. He trails behind you as you lead him up the stairs and to the second floor. 
Neither of you dare utter a single word as you walk through the corridor and come to a door that matches the number on the key Soap gave you. You don't dare glance at him as you walk in, taking in the dim tavern-like atmosphere of the tiny bedroom. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the king size bed in the centre, which takes up most of the space. Your mouth goes dry. You wonder what Simon might be thinking, if the same thoughts that course through your mind are pestering him as well. 
The sound of the door being closed startles you and makes you whirl around. Your gaze immediately captures his, and you gulp under his piercing stare.
With slow heavy steps that mismatch your thundering heartbeat, he walks over to you, stopping only when he’s towering right over you, standing tall in all his imposing height. You keep your gaze levelled in front of you, unable to meet his eyes, however his fingers curl under your chin and nudge your head up, forcing you to face him. 
" Princess… " he murmurs in a low breathy tone, his voice tinged with something akin to irritation, “why are you playing little games with me?”
Your stomach flips again. Of course he’d assume you’ve been messing with him, leading him on; it’s only fair considering the odd behaviour you’ve had all night. And probably not just tonight. 
“I’m not, trust me…”
He pauses for a brief moment, his keen eyes studying your face, possibly looking for proof of your sincerity.
"You brought me here. Why ?" 
"I-I don't know…"
"You don't know?" 
You mentally reprimand yourself for your dumb answer and shake your head in an attempt to dissipate the haze that has settled over your mind.
"I mean, I know why, but-" you try to swallow but your throat is dry. The intensity of his dark eyes boring into yours causes you to stutter, "f-fuck Si, you make me so nervous I can't even think straight!"
Your voice comes out louder than intended and soaked with frustration. Your hand moves on his wrist, tugging at it to pry yourself free from his grasp, but his hold on you does not relent.
"You were dancing for all the pub to see until a minute ago, and I make you nervous?" 
"Yes! Of course! I don't give a damn about those strangers! Why should I? Besides that's not the point! You make me nervous because you are... you are-" 
You shake your head again as you let out a shuddering breath, your gaze averted from his. You know you can't really back down now. You have to tell him the truth but it's damn hard to find the right words to express exactly how you feel. And more than that, to finally find the courage to say them.
You feel like your heart is on the verge of bursting out of your chest.
"You’re someone I really care about, Simon."
His fingers squeeze your chin, urging you to look up, and when you do you notice that his eyes have softened. 
“That made you panic?”
You give him a lopsided smile, but a short-lived one, for your anxieties come tumbling back, slithering into your mind and compelling you to address them, once and for all.
"T-There's something else..."
You want to tell him that you've never been with a man before, that you've never even had your first kiss yet, and that the thought of him, the only man you’ve ever loved, desired , possibly being your first, makes you incredibly nervous and self-conscious. You really want to tell him everything and free yourself of this burden but your voice gets stuck in your throat and you gape up at him, feeling your stomach churn.
Simon waits patiently for you to speak up, his fingers still holding your chin. The soft look he offers you seems to ease your tension a little. 
"I have…”, you draw a sharp breath, "...no experience in this field , if you catch my drift...”. You mutter those few words in a small voice as your face twists into a grimace. 
Your confession hangs in the air for what feels like eternity, your heart seems to have stopped beating altogether. 
"I know."
“Wha-?!”
You are completely thrown off by his matter-of-fact tone.
"H-how? Why-" you stutter, mouth gaping, your eyes wide. How could he know? You've never told anybody, not until a few minutes ago. But he couldn't have heard you, could he? That would be impossible. 
"Is it really so fucking obvious?" 
"No.” 
In stark contrast to yours, his voice sounds cool and collected. His fingers graze your skin as they move up from your chin to your cheek. "I figured you had no idea how this worked when suddenly you’re lacking your usual confidence and turning into a bloody school-girl. It threw me off at first. I thought you didn’t want this…”
" Hell…”, your head slowly shakes in disbelief, eyes darting to the side. 
Suddenly you don’t know if you should feel relieved, ashamed or sorry for it all. Your own body chooses for you, opting for an odd mix of the three; shoulders slumping, mind buzzing, you stare into space while his words sink in. 
So he's been into you the whole time but your mixed signals, caused by your stupid anxieties, have made it look like you were not into him? Or that you were just playing with him? Seriously? What kind of shitty B-rated rom com is this? 
" So , you've never been held by a man.” Simon’s calm voice draws you back to the moment, his fingers taking hold of your chin once again. “ Blimey . Is that what makes you so nervous?" 
"Is it really not a problem for you?" you ask out of genuine curiosity, brows furrowing as your eyes meet his.
Simon’s scoff almost turns into a hearty laugh as he holds your gaze, eyes crinkling.
"No man has ever put their filthy hands on you and I should be - what? Sad? Disappointed? For God's sake, princess..."
He shakes his head, fingertips taking better hold of your jaw as he leans down.
“You and your worries…” His tone is almost scolding but playfully so, eyes studying every feature of your face. “Stop thinking so much, you numpty . It’s not good for you.”
“Tell me something I don’t know…”, you let out a long shuddering breath, in an attempt to let go of the lingering worry still tightening your throat, "I just… don't want to fuck this up, Si. You mean too much to me..."
He hums softly. 
Silence engulfs you. A silence tinged with renewed tension. Not the type of tension that fuels your anxieties but the kind that makes you warm inside. Soft distant notes coming from downstairs fill the room, washing over you in a soothing yet electric wave, reminding you of the dance you shared, of how close you were and the desire that was rising, burning hot, inside of you. 
Just like a magnet the attraction between you and Simon grows. 
His free hand moves on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him and just like before, out of instinct, your hands land on his chest. He holds your chin high, his gaze piercing straight to your heart.
"Do you want me to kiss you?" 
You bite your lip, surprised by his forwardness, a nervous giggle shaking through you. "What kind of question is that-"
"Do you want me to kiss you, princess?" 
He asks a second time with a more serious tone that makes your nervous giddiness fade. Looking deep into his eyes, you take a long breath to ease your racing heart, or at least attempt to.
"Y-yeah, I want you to kiss me."
His hand moves over yours resting on his chest, and guides it up to his neck. 
"Pull up my mask, uncover my mouth. Only my mouth."
You stop breathing altogether, heart jumping in your throat. 
"Y-You want me to do it?" 
"Aye."
Touching his mask, pulling it up to uncover his face feels like such an intimate gesture… Your eyes roam reverently over his newly uncovered skin as your fingers gently peel up the fabric of his balaclava, until his mouth is completely exposed to your sight and you can let your adoring gaze truly linger for the first time. You’ve caught glimpses of his face before, his chin looking vaguely familiar for the few times you’ve seen Simon drink or eat in front of you and the team. But that’s all it has ever been: glimpses. You’ve never been allowed to study his clean-shaved chin and alluring mouth like you are now, from so up close.
"You have pretty lips…"
Your comment slips out of your mouth before your mind could register it and you grimace out of embarrassment. "Uh, sorry, that was-" 
Words die on your tongue as soon as you feel his hand firmly squeeze your jaw. Your eyes immediately dart to his, which bore into yours. Slowly - breathtakingly slow, he draws closer until his lips hover inches away from yours and you can feel his hot breath on your skin. You swallow dry. In a heartbeat he closes the distance, kissing you gently, softly but with a clear, barely-withheld passion. 
You respond to the kiss after a moment of stun. The contact of his lips on yours feels like a soft dream at first, one that seizes your mind in a haze and makes you walk on cloud nine, and then grows in force, as if Simon can't contain his desire any longer.
Your lips part and his tongue slips into your hot mouth, eager to explore this new territory. You moan in the kiss and meet him in a twisting dance of control. 
Every move comes surprisingly natural to you, as if you’ve done this a million times before.
His hand travels down from your back to your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessive squeeze, then slips even lower to lift your short black dress at its edges and tug it upward just enough to expose the back of your thighs. He doesn't waste time when moving his hand onto that newly uncovered area, kneading the tight flesh there as he bends forward, causing you to arch your back and latch your hands around his neck. Bodies tucking closer. 
You take a deep breath as you slightly pull away, lips still grazing his, your hot breaths merging together. 
All the words you thought would play out in your head in such an important moment are now nowhere to be found. Instead, it’s all just a feeling of rightness between you and him. None of your fantasies could have ever prepared you for a feeling so… intoxicated. 
"Simon…", you usher in a barely audible whisper, slipping your hand under his jacket and feeling his muscles tense under your wandering touch. His lust clouded eyes search yours, his chest heaving hard, hands pressing against you and relenting a second later, as if he’s trying to restrain himself. 
"...I want you to be my first."
A guttural sound comes out of his mouth at your words, his fingers spread again on your ass cheek, squeezing it hard and causing you to whimper. His gaze seems to get darker and he draws closer once more, teeth grazing your bottom lip, nibbling at it. 
"Are you sure?" 
"Positive."
And just like that, as if a barrier has been finally lifted, his lips crush onto yours once more but harder, hungrier than the first time. In one swift motion he yanks the biker jacket off your shoulders and tosses it on the floor. You instantly match his eagerness, returning the favour; his own windbreaker dropping at your feet. 
Before your mind can register what’s happening, you find yourself back against the wall, your shoulder blades hitting the hard surface in an audible thud. You feel your guts twist as heat starts to pool in your belly. 
Your lips are still connected, unwilling to separate. His hands dive on your hips, the thin fabric of your flared dress creases under his ravenous groping. One hand slides down, curling up the hem and slipping underneath, meeting the side of your bare upper thigh. His palm closes around it, firmly, possessively as he lifts your leg up to his hip; you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to find a red mark on your skin later, nor would you be displeased. You moan in his mouth in response and let your own hands wander on his body, blindly scanning the muscles of his torso from above his sweatshirt, only to slide lower and lower, until you find its edges and curl them up. Your fingers sneak under the fabric, meeting the smooth skin of his abdomen; his muscles tense up at the teasing contact. Your palms climb up his abs, his pecks, committing the tactile sensation of every inch of his taut torso to memory. 
As you both pull away, gasping for air, you let your eyes fall to where your hands disappear under his clothes; you want to look at him, feast your hungry eyes on his naked body but before you can do it yourself, Simon grabs the hem of his sweatshirt and pulls it off his head, adding it to the rest of your discarded clothes. However, he doesn’t give you time to take his bare chest in, for he grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up like you weigh nothing at all, walks you over to the bed and drops you on the mattress. 
Only at this moment are you allowed to let your eyes wander over the muscles of his torso, probably the only part of his body you've already had the pleasure of seeing in the past, although mostly in not so pleasant times, when he needed to be patched up. This time it's totally different. Your hungry gaze devours every inch of him, glinting in twisted pleasure when it meets the scars that you remember having tended to yourself. 
You're too eager to touch him again to keep laying there waiting. Quickly throwing your boots off the side of the bed, you crawl on your knees toward him, hands latching on the inseam of his trousers to unzip them. In the meantime he yanks his own boots off his feet and out of the way, with eyes glued to yours. 
When you're done with his zip, before you can tug his jeans down, he pushes you back on the mattress and joins you on the bed, settling himself on top of your body, knees resting at either side of your legs. 
“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time.”
The way his raspy voice breaks a little as he ushers his confession makes your stomach twist.
“Do w-what, exactly?”
His hands move on your collarbone, peeling the thin straps of your dress and your bra off your shoulders. You allow him to tug them down your chest as you look up at him with nothing but unyielding passion. His eyes wander over your freshly uncovered breasts and you can see his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, jaw setting hard. 
He takes a moment to answer, staring down at you, perhaps struggling to give voice to something that has been swirling against the recesses of his mind for quite some time. 
“Push you on a bed, pin your body under mine and… taste you.”
A sharp shiver runs up your spine at his words, heart skipping a beat. 
One of his palms closes around your breast, firmly squeezing the soft flesh, while the other lifts the skirt of your dress up to your stomach. Without missing a beat he bends down beneath your thighs and presses his mouth against your panties, just above your lower belly. 
“Oh!”
Your hips buck up on their own at the sudden stomach-churning contact. His free hand moves to rest on your upper thigh, pressing your body back against the mattress. 
"This is uncharted territory, innit?"
"I-It is, Lieutenant…", you match his playful tone even though your voice is but a mere whisper, struggling to get out in between your ragged breaths, "...nobody has yet claimed that path..."
You hear him hum in appreciation and you feel his voice too, vibrating against your core.
"Don't mind if I do."
You take a sharp breath as you feel his lips press against you again, only lower this time, teasing your most sensitive part. The thin fabric of your underwear does nothing to muffle the intense touch and yet the obstacle irritates you, you want it out of the way and Simon seems to share your feelings. Both his hands move on your hips, grabbing the hem of your panties and sliding them down and off your legs. A thrill curses through your whole body at the sight of your undies being tucked inside the back pocket of his jeans. Simon’s eyes crinkle lightly as they watch your reaction, lips curving into a smirk.
You don’t really care about them now, whether he’s planning on returning them or making you walk out of here butt naked. All your attention is drawn to the cool breath blowing against your delicate skin, turning hot only a second later as Simon leans closer, until you feel his lips meet your heat and cause you to whimper. The cloth of his mask grazing against your folds only adds to the stimulating touch.
His hot tongue swipes up your core once, twice, with hands spreading you wider for him to reach every inch of you. Another slow stripe from your entrance up to your clitoris and your body shakes in ecstasy. He latches his lips to you and starts to suck hard, swirling his tongue around your nub and dragging it up and down along your wetness. 
He said it. He wanted to taste you. And that is exactly what he’s doing, with no hesitation whatsoever, nor waste of time. You’re already a quivering mess beneath him, pathetic whines falling from your parted lips, hands closing in fists as fingers dig into the sheets. 
“F-Fuck, Simon…”
You feel his soft chuckle against you; it drives you mad. 
He shifts from his position, lips pulling away as he grabs the back of your thighs to tug you closer and pin your spread legs to your stomach. You chance a look at him through your heavy lidded eyes. His lips and chin are wet with your juices, the sight ignites a fire inside you that you’ve never felt before. The way you’re spread for him, your privateness so thoroughly exposed for the first time in your life… you thought that you’d be embarrassed, that you’d be awfully shy to show yourself like this, especially to him. You do sense a faint tightness in your stomach and a warmth spreading in your face, yet there’s another feeling prevailing over the rest. A feeling that surges from Simon himself; the way he leans back down, hands travelling up your body to grab your breasts, the way he’s devouring you like a starved man, the way he’s taking care of you, making sure to pleasure you, to make you feel good… It allows no room for awkwardness or discomfort, only a warm pervasive and soothing feeling of pure care and devotion to wash over you and envelope you whole. 
The lewd sound of his mouth working against you has long prevailed over the music and it only seems to grow in tone the more the tightening of the heat in your belly grows in intensity. You feel it coming, the high is close. Your hands fly toward him, landing on his head. You grab his mask, tug at it, feeling it slip from its place, then you freeze abruptly, as soon as you realise what you’re doing. You look down again, instantly meeting Simon’s hard stare. A strange glint passes over his eyes; he seems to ponder something for a moment then come to a final decision. In a few dismissive moves, he pulls away from you, grabs the dark fabric curled under his nose and yanks it off his head, throwing it carelessly on the floor. 
Your heart is sent into a frenzy. It no longer knows what to do; whether it should keep thundering in your heart for the intense and building pleasure or stopping altogether for the shock of what you have just witnessed. Your wide eyes wander toward him, curious and hesitant at the same time but they only catch a glimpse of his bare face before he disappears between your legs once again, latching his mouth on you even more greedily than before, possibly feeling more free in his movements without the mask impediment. You want to watch him, stare at him as he drives you to heaven but your head falls back on the mattress, eyes squeezing shut and back arching sharply as a wave of skin-crawling chills sets your entire body aflame. It is nothing like the orgasms you’ve had before, when you touch yourself. This is a new feeling; it’s intense, it goes to your head, it makes you dizzy and wordless. It makes you feel loved. 
Simon keeps moving against you, tongue curling at your entrance, gathering up the fruits of his hard work. His hands still pinning your thighs close to your stomach, fingers digging in your soft flesh as he eases your shakes. 
Your mind is still struggling to come out of the haze when your hand blindly travels down in search of him. Fingers tug at his short locks of hair, urging him to come up to meet you. He lingers a moment longer to press a soft kiss on your swollen bundle of nerves, then on your lower belly and between your breasts as he makes his ascent. Finally he faces you, eyes meeting again. 
If your body wasn't already heavily overwhelmed, the sight of his beautiful sharp features would send all your senses into overdrive. 
He looks at you so openly, dark eyes twinkling with adoration and what you can only read as vulnerability, that you find yourself unsure of how to act. 
Would this special moment turn awkward if you were to make a comment on his looks? You wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Removing his mask must take such an effort… you don’t want to risk making this more stressful for him. You opt for keeping your comments to yourself, at least for now. 
Instead, you let your hand rest on his face, caressing his skin, softly, slowly, as if it’s the most fragile thing in the world and you have to handle it with utmost care. You hope that by doing this you can show him and reassure him that everything is ok, nothing has changed, surely not for the worse. That you deeply appreciate the fact that he decided to let his guards down, to be vulnerable with you. That’s what you try to convey with your adoring gaze and your tender touch, and you sincerely hope it reaches him.
When you feel him lean into your touch, a content smile spreads on your face and you instinctively tilt your head up, capturing his damp lips in a passionate kiss that instantly rekindles the desire inside of you. Simon matches your eagerness, hands travelling down your body to caress, grab, squeeze, grope and tease anything he finds on his path. You do the same, mapping his muscular torso, skimming your fingers down to his navel. 
For a moment, only a moment, you hesitate to go lower as you get caught up in your head, worries threatening to hold you back again, but the way he interrupts the contact of your lips to place a trail of sloppy kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck makes your worries fade again and you slip your hand inside his unzipped jeans. You relish in hearing the guttural sound that rewards your action; it compels you to rub your hand over his boxers with more confidence, feeling his bulge with a light squeeze.
Simon hastily brings his hand to his waistband and tugs it down, his boxers receive the same treatment. Your hand now closes around his erection, giving it a few tentative strokes. He draws a sharp breath.
“ Bloody hell , princess…”
He mutters in the crook of your neck and you shiver. His reaction encourages you to increase the vigour of your movements.
“Is this ok?”
He hums softly, hips starting to buck in sync with your hand. He lets you fondle him, drag your fingers on the tip wet with precum, make him moan in pleasure as your hold around his girth tightens… then he pulls away, grabs your hand and brings it to his lips for a soft peck on its back.
You follow his movements, eyes drawn to his lips then flickering down to his cock. By the touch you assumed it was pretty big and the sight only confirms your thoughts but it shocks you anyway.
You hear him huff a laugh through his nose.
“Do you think you can take me, mh?”
Your eyes dart back to his face, meeting his amused look.
“I don’t know…”, you bite your lips, the angles of your mouth curling up in a playful smirk, “but I sure as hell ain’t gonna back down from a challenge.”
Your heart soars with joy seeing his face crack into a pleasantly surprised expression, a chuckle coming out of his mouth.
“Good girl.”
He pins you with his mesmerising gaze, bending down on you again. He leans on the side, toward the bedside table. You crane your neck to watch. His hand slips into a black smoking-bowl and comes back with a small metallic sachet. Protection. Of course. This place is well-equipped. Your curious eyes keep following his movements as he takes the condom and secures it onto his throbbing erection. You swallow as his gaze moves back on your face, your stomach starts churning again. He seems to sense your nervousness and leans down, hand grabbing your jaw, eyes piercing right into yours.
“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be gentle.”
You nod with a smile, then take a deep breath.
“It’s okay. I trust you, Si.”
He leans in for a quick soft kiss, hand guiding his erection between your legs, tip rubbing against your slit to coat it in your wetness. Your whole body tingles in anticipation. 
“Stop me anytime if you need to.”
He waits for your confirmation before he slides in, bit by bit, easing you to the intrusion. An instant groan comes out of his mouth.
“Oh, you’re so fucking tight!”
Your brows furrow, your jaw sets, soft cries come out of you as he settles inside your walls but you don’t stop him. He kisses your neck, right on the spot he learned that makes you quiver the most, your hands clutched at his sides. It doesn’t take long for the nagging feeling to fade and for you to get accustomed to the sensation as your core stretches to welcome him fully.
Simon feels your body relax and starts to push into you, slowly, carefully, letting out pleased grunts of his own. His hands wrap around the back of your thighs and lift them up to his waist. You latch your legs around his body, a maneuver that allows him to bury his cock deeper inside you and that causes a loud moan to erupt from you.
“G-God… That’s…”
His lips trail back from your neck to your jaw, teasingly brushing your skin, until they hover on your open mouth; his eyes take in your contorting features with a pleased smile. 
He rocks at a steady pace against you while his hands roam your body, travel up your hips, caress your breasts, skim along the shape of your arms, stopping only to let his fingers interlace with yours, and pin your hands down to the mattress, at either side of your head.
You feel your lucidity slip from you completely. No coherent words come out of you, only a nonsensical mumbling. The way he’s thrusting inside of you, so deep and precise, hitting that perfect spot at each push, it takes every fiber in your being not to scream out loud and make the whole pub know how Simon’s fucking you sensless. 
You can only focus on how you’re connected to him, how he is filling you up so beautifully, how your bodies move wonderfully together; it’s almost like a dance, a primal animalistic dance that belongs to you two only. You even have the music to accompany your dance moves, a soft sensual melody that perfectly complements your passion-imbued union of trembling bodies.
So this is how it feels to have sex? This is how it feels to be wholly consumed by lust and desire? Or could this overwhelming sensation simply be Simon’s doing? To have him make love to you?
“Y/n…”
It takes a lot of effort for you to hum back in response.
Simon’s lips crush clumsily against yours as his movements become frantic and sloppier. He must be close to reaching the high. And so are you. Your eyelids are heavy, your sight slightly blurred and unfocused.
“Si, I think I’m about to-”
He pulls away from your lips, spine straightening, piercing eyes landing on your face as one of his hands slips from yours and travels along your body, down toward your core. He deliberately rubs your slit with his palm before he picks up a hectic waving motion to stroke your swollen nub, immediately triggering a shock wave of shivers to spiral up your back. Your head spins at the additional stimuli. Your eyes squeeze shut, cries fall out of your mouth as you contort in pleasure.
You feel his other hand grab your jaw and shake it lightly, demanding your attention.
“Eyes on me, beautiful.”
You look up at him with glazed eyes, dizzy and yearning for your release. With every stroke and every thrust you lose yourself more and more into the bliss.
His hand settles on your neck, closing around your throat, not hard enough to delay your breathing but providing you with such a thrilling and wicked pressure that makes you salivate and that instantly sends heat flaring in your belly, causing your need to build faster and even more intense.
Panting hard, your hands now free, you grip onto Simon’s strong arms while you progressively lose focus on every way he’s indulging your desire, instead centring your heightened senses on the feelings he’s awakening. The last thread of restraint then finally snaps and you reach the peak, core lightening with an answering flame that you’ve never felt before. You lose yourself in the waves of pleasure overtaking you, barely taking notice of Simon’s rutting inside you once, twice, three more times before his body goes still against you and a deep groan erupts from him. Both of you anchor the other’s body, pressing together, relishing in the other’s shudders and panting breaths. You’re so flush against him that you can feel his heart, challenging your own in a speed race and then gradually slowing down.
Chest heaving, you cradle the back of his head, letting your fingers thread between the roots of his hair, while he blows his hot breath on the crook of your neck as you both ease down from your highs. The warmth of his body is comforting against yours, you never want him to let go. The rousing feeling of his cock still buried inside you, resting between your fluttering walls is one you could easily get used to. It almost takes your breath away when Simon slides out of you, leaving you bare.
His damp lips press against your boiling skin, trailing up your jaw. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, committing this idyllic moment to memory. 
His thumb gently strokes your chin, fingers resting upon your cheek. When you open your eyes, he's already looking at you with the loveliest smile you've ever seen graze his face. You return it with one of your own.
"Si..." you pause, staring deep into his eyes. There's so much you want to say, a multitude of emotions running wild and untamed inside of you that needs to be addressed and yet you struggle to find the right words to tell him how you feel.
The realisation of what has just happened downs on you. You've spent years fantasising about this moment, fearing the real thing wouldn't even come close to your idealised perfect first time. Wondering when, where, with whom you would live through this experience. You're euphoric to admit to yourself that the real thing has surpassed the fantasy by a landslide. 
"I'm... glad it was you."
It sounds silly when you say it. You could have chosen from a billion other thoughts you had swirling in your head, yet this one drowned out the rest. But as silly as it may sound, it’s the truth: you’re beyond thrilled he was your first. There’s no other man in your life that you trust, respect, and love as much as him with whom you could share such intimacy. 
You see the angle of his lips curl up to one side, the pad of his thumb softly brushing the outline of your bottom lip. 
" I'm glad it was me ."
Your face cracks as you erupt in a giggle. With your palm against his cheek, you gently push him away. "Simon..."
He smiles down at you, his eyes crinkling as he leans down again to kiss the crown of your head before drawing all the way back and getting off the bed. 
Your gaze follows him as he tosses the used condom into the trash can and pulls up his underwear and jeans. As he picks up the rest of his clothes from the floor and gets dressed again, your devoted gaze glides up and down his body, a permanent smile engraved to your lips. You feel so lucky to be able to witness such a sight… You still have a hard time believing your eyes.
“Now, who’s enjoying the show ?”
His amused glance meets yours, and you give him a sheepish smile, followed by a shrug.
"I'm just taking it all in..."
"Oh, you've already taken it all in , princess."
You let out a shocked scoff, your mouth wide open. You dismissively wave your hand in front of your face and shake your head, as you feel a crawl of heat flooding to your cheeks. 
"Oh, shut up..."
You love his sense of humour. It’s one of the qualities you like the most about him. And now that you’re… well, even closer to him, the sarcasm is only bound to get more pungent. Not that you’d complain about it.
His low chuckle fills your ears as you distract yourself by adjusting your bra and dress, then taking a seat on the side of the bed to slip your boots back on. You notice a heap of black and white fabric on the floor at your feet and bend down to pick it up. It's his balaclava.
The thought doesn’t even have time to fully form in your mind that you’re already pulling the mask over your head. Unfortunately there’s no mirror in the room to check your reflection, to see how the skull fits you but the cloth feels surprisingly nice against your skin and… you can smell his scent.
The sudden lack of rustling from behind you causes you to spin around and you find Simon staring at you, holding your jacket. He walks toward you, handing you the garment, reaching then for your face to adjust the fabric on your nose and on your chin. He stops to give you an appraising look.
"It looks better on me."
You chuckle, smacking him playfully on the chest. “Oh, c’mon… what if I want to wear one, too?”
"And hide your beautiful face? Negative.”
“Well, then…”, you pin him with a challenging look, palms pressing hard against your cheeks, securing the mask on your head. “I won’t let you hide your beautiful face, either.”
You see him softly shake his head as he huffs a chuckle through his nose. After a moment, he reaches for his back pocket and retrieves your undies, waving them high above your head. 
“What? You’ll put those on your head instead?”
You try to suppress the laugh by biting on your lips but it erupts out of you anyway, like a river in flood. The pointed look he gives you only makes it worse.
“Alright, alright…”
Still snickering, you pull on the fabric and peel it off your head, holding it out to him. 
He takes the mask from you but doesn’t let go of your undies. He puts them back in his pocket as casually as he took them out.
You scoff, tilting your head to the side. "Really?" 
“I’m keeping them, as a memento.”
You stare at him, appraising his solemn expression. If he wants them then you’ll let him have them - the fabric is ruined anyway. They're not even your favourite pair, thankfully.
“First and last time you steal something from me, Si!”
“Can’t make promises, princess.” 
Your chest swells as you try to read between the lines. It's inevitable. You can't help but wonder if he means to tell you something else. Will there be a next time, or multiple next times? Does he plan on stealing something else? Like, your heart? To be honest, he's already halfway there, but he doesn't need to know that. At least not yet. 
You keep on looking into each other's eyes for a bit longer. You think you can detect the profound fondness behind his look. Your lips curl up in a shy smile.
“Ehm… I believe we kept the guys waiting long enough." you say, breaking the silence. "We should get back downstairs."
He gives you a curt nod but instead of moving away, he draws closer to you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he leans down and angles your head to brush one more kiss against your lips. The contact is strikingly gentle and it takes your breath away. It’s a kiss infused with unspoken words of devotion, promises, feelings which are too strong to be shared so early on but that are already there, growing, blossoming. Both your hearts are gardens in bloom. 
He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours for a lingering moment before taking a step back and disguising his face once again. 
The action saddens you but at the same time it fills your chest with pride; you're the only one who has been blessed to bask in the beauty of his seldom-seen bare face and no one else will receive such special treatment. Not today. Hopefully never. Is it selfish of you to wish that? Perhaps, but you don't care. Not when images of your lovemaking are still so fresh in your mind. Not when you can still feel the worshipping touch of his hands and tongue on your body. Certainly not when the cool, humid air of the room hits the wetness of your exposed core beneath the dress. 
You exchange a knowing look before moving towards the door and walking down the stairs together. That soothing tune, now linked with poignant core memories, floods in your ears once again, growing louder as you return to the main area and towards the bar. Your team is still at the counter, exactly where you left them... how long ago? You have no idea how much time has passed. You were too engrossed in your passion to pay attention to the outside world and its trivialities.
Johnny glances behind his shoulder just as you and Simon make a beeline toward the group. You can see his lips moving; he must be saying something to the others because they all crane their heads to look at you before returning to their drinks. Soap is the only one who whirls around, bivouacing on his seat and all over the counter like a fucking braggart as he meets your eyes and winks at you. 
Oh, he'll take yours and Simon's hookup as a personal victory, and he'll brag about it; you already know it. But you're far too happy right now to be bothered by it. Let him gloat. You're the one who got the reward, anyway. 
When you eventually make it to the bar, no one acknowledges your arrival. Nobody says anything about your absence or the dance prior to that. Their silence only serves to emphasise that they are all aware of what happened. The furtive glances they cast your way, some more mischievous than others, serve as plain confirmation. 
"Now that we're all here, I suppose we can head out." 
The captain's voice calls out to everyone as he stands up from the barstool. "Unless the two lovebirds fancy one last drink?" 
You try to ignore the appellation he used and the way your stomach flipped in response. You raise one hand and shake your head, avoiding his eyes as well as the urge to glance up at Simon. "I'm good."
A beat.
"Alright then. Off we go."
On cue, everyone gets off their seats, some knocking back their glasses, others stretching their legs. You take advantage of the shuffle to walk over to Johnny and hold out the key to him. He takes it back without a word but the sly smile playing on his face is hard to miss. You hope at least he has the decency to hold off of grilling you for deets until you’re back at the HQ.
You seem to catch a movement in your peripheral vision: Price giving Simon a firm pat on the shoulder? You’re tempted to turn your head to take a better look when a loud scoff interrupts you and draws your attention back to your best mate.
"Bloody hell, y/n! You and L.T. are not joking around!" 
Your brows furrow upon hearing his remark and when you follow the trajectory of his stunned look, your eyes widen as they meet the cloth of your undies poking out of his back pocket. You spring into action right away, grasping the exposed edge to yank it farther inside his jeans. Simon’s own hand reaches behind him to wrap around yours, fingers interlacing, as he maintains his focus on Price in front of him. Your chest swells at the gesture, heat rising in your cheeks,  but you manage to turn around and zap Johnny with a fierce glare anyway.
He makes a show of zipping his lips and throwing away the key. However, the grin he flashes you is so contagious that you find yourself returning one of your own.
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It appears like you're in for a ride full of taunts, jokes, knowing looks and funny name-calling. Your mates will give you two no rest… but who gives a shit about it? Simon said it first. Why should you care? You'll take this and much worse if it means getting the chance to explore your feelings with the man of your dreams and spending many more nights out - or inside his spacious office - dancing together.
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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 22 days
Text
I'm a Winner
Pairing: GatorxReader
Summary: You've heard rumors about Gator's abilities in the bedroom and you're curious. You can overlook his bumbling idiocy for an earth shattering orgasm.
18+ Only
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Your eyes started tracking him from the moment he walked in. Gator Tillman, cocky son of Roy Tillman who was known for being a jerk, an idiot, and the resident fuckboy. He moved with the swagger of a man who thought he ran the world. Which is exactly what he thought. He never missed a chance to tell people how he was the law. 
He pulled that stupid vape from his pocket, hitting it hard as he laughed at something Jimmy was saying. Jimmy, another douchebag if there ever was one. You’d made the mistake of hooking up with him for him to be gone before you’d even woken up. No note. No call. But you’d seen him at the bar that night, Susan hanging all over him while he pretended that he had no idea who you were. 
After fucking four of Stark County’s finest you had sworn off cops completely. But lately, you’d been thinking of bending that rule. Yeah, Gator Tillman ran his mouth, telling anyone who would listen how amazing he was in the sack. It was probably just that, all talk. But according to a couple of the girls, he was worth taking a ride. 
He chugged a beer as the men around him all chanted, finishing it off with a neanderthal thumping of chest that led to a loud belch. You grimaced. Maybe this plan wasn’t the best one. Maybe those girls had been exaggerating. After all, Roy Tillman owned this county. No one wanted to get on his or his son’s bad side. They could just be blowing smoke up your ass so it didn’t get back to Gator that they were talking shit about him. 
After Lacy Boggs had bragged about Gator fucking her in the back of his cop car after another one of Jimmy’s parties, you’d been intrigued. She’d claimed that he had worked her over so good that she couldn’t walk straight for a week. After Kelsey Stouts had renowned you with her story of giving him head to get out of a speeding ticket, saying she’d never been so turned on having a dick in her mouth, you’d been highly interested. 
What man had a dick so special that a woman came just from sucking him off? You’d found yourself suddenly paying special attention to the deputy sheriff. Sipping your coffee in the diner while he picked up his order, noticing how well he filled out those camo pants he loved so much. He’d leaned back, resting his elbows on the counter, lazily waiting for his food, and you’d noticed it wasn’t just the back of the pants he’d filled out. 
That was the moment you’d decided you needed to see for yourself. That was the moment you’d realized that Gator Tillman, while a piece of absolute shit, was a hell of a view from all angles. He wasn’t long term material but you weren’t looking for long term. You were simply looking for a good time with a man who might be able to show it to. Unlike the other worthless men in this town. 
Gator turned, his eyes locking onto yours from where you sat, on a stool at the counter in the kitchen. One eyebrow lifted along with one side of his mouth, his hand running over that slicked back hair. You ran your tongue over your upper lip, knowing he wouldn’t be able to ignore the gesture. And sure enough, here he came, like a dog scenting a bitch in heat. 
“I could feel your eyes on me,” he smirked, placing one hand on the counter next to you, invading your space to the point where you could smell the Axe body spray he’d clearly used far too much of. “Whatchu want, darling?”
“Sorry, officer. Is it a crime to look?” you challenged, tilting your head, biting back the urge to reach out and tug on the wild mass of chest hair that was escaping the top of his shirt. 
“It’s only a crime if I say it’s a crime.” His head dropped, lips so close you could smell the fruity tang on his breath of watermelon from that damn vape he always had in his pocket. “See something you like?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I’ve heard things…but I’m not sure if I should believe them or not.”
“You heard things? Well, I heard things too.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“I heard you got a thing for men in uniform,” he whispered. His hand fell on your knee and you allowed it, curious to see where this was going to go. After all, wasn’t this what you’d come here for tonight? “Let me guess. You been disappointed but you heard Gator can get your body exactly where it needs to be, didn’t you?”
His fingers slid under the edge of your skirt and you placed your hand over them, stopping him. Gator smirked, pulling hips lips between his teeth. 
“Pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?” you teased.
“You could be full of me too, mama. You know you want to. Just say the word. Jimmy’s got a spare room upstairs. This Gator wouldn’t mind exploring your wet swamp.”
A snort you couldn’t stop escaped and before you knew it, you were in hysterics. Gator looked confused and then offended, his hand disappearing from your leg as he straightened up, turning his head to each side, trying to regain his tough facade. His eyes darted around the room, daring anyone to say anything about you laughing at him. 
“I’m sorry…but do you really think that’s sexy? Referring to my vagina as a swamp?” you cackled. “Jesus, maybe those girls were overexaggerating. I thought you had game.”
“Oh, I got game honey,” he hissed angrily, his face suddenly in yours again, those hazel eyes dark as night. You swallowed hard, pulling back, laughter dying in your throat as you waited to see what he was going to do. Knowing the Tillman family, there was no threshold to what they were capable of when they were angry. “I got more game than Lebron James.”
“Okay…yeah. I’m sure you do. Must be a bad night for you or something.”
His hand came to your throat, his nose bumping yours, “You need a lesson in how to talk respectfully to authority. If you don’t have nothing to say, we might have to give that pretty little mouth something else to do.”
Heat flared between your thighs as he pushed against you, spreading you wide until you could feel pressed against you. Dampness was already spreading across your panties, your teeth biting down on your lower lip to keep you from whimpering in front of this entire party. Fuck. Why were you so turned on? You should be pushing this asshole off and telling him where to shove it. But the way he was looking at you, those eyes filled with promises of what he planned to do…you wanted it. 
Opening your eyes wide, you gave him the most innocent, doe eyed look you could manage. “Uh-oh, deputy. Have I been a bad girl? I guess you better punish me then so I can learn to be better.”
You enjoyed the way Gator’s eyes flickered in surprise, his cock reacting to your words, rigid and hard. You fought the urge to rub yourself against him, to relieve some of the ache that was already throbbing. You fucking needed this.
“Then get that sweet little ass upstairs.” His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “Last door on the right. Get on the bed and get on all fours. Lift that little skirt up for me and wait until I get there. And no touching yourself honey. I’ll know.”
Then he was gone. You gasped, blinking, finding him back over with his cop buddies, another beer in his hand. His eyes flickered to you and up the stairs. Not even knowing who the hell you were right now, you rose on shaky legs, making your way up the steps. 
No one stopped you. No one even seemed to be paying attention and if they were, they probably just assumed you were going to the bathroom. At the top of the landing, you made your way down the hallway, grabbing the doorknob to the last door on the right just like he’d said. 
Were you seriously going to do this? Were you really going to let Gator fucking Tillman order you around? For a second you considered just walking back down the stairs and out the door to your car. Let him be pissed when he got up here and found the room empty. Who in the hell did that guy think he was? God?
But that thought evaporated as fast as it came. You weren’t leaving. You were too invested now. You wanted to know if he could put his money where his mouth was. You wanted to know if that dick was as magical as the rumors said it was. And fuck, you wanted him to dominate the shit out of you. You wanted him to punish you. You wanted him to give you what you’d always craved but never had, what most of the boys in this town weren’t capable of. You wanted an earth shattering orgasm. You wanted to be walking funny for a week. You just hoped you weren’t getting your expectations up to have them shattered in disappointment because this guy could be all talk.
That fucking pick-up line. You snorted again thinking about it as you crawled onto the mattress. What woman would want her pussy to be compared to a swamp? Gross. Pressing your face into the mattress, you lifted your ass high, grasping the hem of your skirt and flipping it up. But dumb didn’t mean he couldn’t fuck, right? Only time would tell.
“Well, well, well…now if that ain’t the prettiest sight I ever did see. A woman showing some respect to authority, following an officer’s commands.”
Your pussy clenched, anticipation building at the sound of the door shutting, the lock clicking into place. The sound of cotton slipping over skin caressed your ears as he pulled his shirt off, a flash of green fabric in the corner of your vision. 
Each step toward the bed was a thud as his heavy combat boots hit the floor. You squirmed. Your desire building, your need pulsing through you like the rumbles of an earthquake. You’d never been so fucking turned on in your life and he hadn’t even touched you yet. God, he better live up to the hype.
“Mmm, now that’s a peach I’d like to sink my teeth in…”
He was right behind you now and you jumped when his hand came down upon your flesh with a loud smack. Gator treated the opposite cheek to the same treatment, eliciting a whimper from you. His hand wrapped around your thighs, yanking them further apart, spreading you wide. 
“My, my…” You gasped when his nose slid over your panties from the front to the back. “Damn darling, you smell just as sweet as you look. You taste just as good too?”
“Why don’t you put that mouth to good use and find out?” you teased, wiggling your ass back and forth for him, your need for him use his fingers, his tongue, his cock, fucking anything on you raging like an inferno. The heat was spreading over your skin until you were sure you would incinerate from it, nothing left but a pile of ashes on this bed. 
Another smack came at your words, this time to your pussy, the impact vibrating throughout your entire body. You cried out, rocking your hips backward, damn near begging this man to give you more. 
“Now, I thought we’d done and cleared this up, darling? It’s your mouth that needs something to do. Clearly you haven’t learned your less about talking back to your superiors.”
“I don’t work for you,” you snapped, unable to keep yourself from antagonizing him, wanting to push him over the edge, to push him to give you exactly what you wanted.
“Oh, well, I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m here the law of this land,” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair, lifting you up off the bed. “Tonight you do work for me and you can start by getting on your knees.”
Leaning forward, you batted your eyelashes, smirking with a tilt of your head, “Make me, officer.”
His lips pouted to the side, his hand coming to the back of his pants. You could tell he was more excited than aggravated at your challenge. Most girls probably didn’t have the balls to talk back to him, too scared of that last name he carried around. When he revealed it again, a pair of handcuffs dangled from his fingers. 
“Oh, we want to play like that? Alrighty then.” Roughly, he shoved you face first onto the bed. Pulling your arms behind you, you felt the cool metal snap around each wrist. “I can play like that.”
Not even waiting for your response, his fingers curled in your hair, tugging until you had no choice but to come off the bed, standing in front of him. Pulling again, he jerked your head so you were looking up at him. You gasped at the pain at your scalp and he used that opportunity to lick the inside of your mouth before pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking until it released with an audible pop. 
“Now, I said on your knees.”
His hand dropped to the top of your head, pressing you down until you had no other option if you didn’t want to rupture a vertebrae. Gator stood, considering you, his head tilting one way and then the other. With a movement so fast you barely knew it had happened, his hands pulled at your shirt, ripping the buttons. Swiping at the fabric, nothing was left to conceal you from him besides scraps of black lace.
“That’s better. Wanna admire those tits while I watch that mouth apologize for talking back.” His zipper made a soft hiss before his pants dropped around his ankles. Gator slid one hand into his boxer briefs, pulling out his already hard cock, showing you that what you thought you saw was no exaggeration. This man was hung. “Now open up for me, mama.”
Eager to find out if this cock was everything you’d been told, you opened wide. 
“Stick that tongue out for me. Oh…that’s a girl…”
He slapped the tip of his erection against your tongue a few times. You kept your mouth open as he slipped it inside, the tip running along each cheek. When his fist curled in your hair again, you worked to relax your throat, anticipating what was coming. 
And Gator did not disappoint. He fucked your face, sending his cock straight back to kiss your tonsils. You gagged, your nose nuzzled against the coarse hair at the base of him. But he didn’t relent, doing it again, and a third time, his sack hitting your chin with each hard thrust into your mouth. His groans and grunts created a soundtrack of meal pleasure while his cock left no inch of your throat untouched until you felt like he would reach your lungs. 
“Fuck, darling. That pretty little mouth is good for something other than being a smartass.” His hand eased in your hair, his other hand slipping along his length, pressing it against his stomach. “Gotta show the boys the same kind of love, now.”
You pressed your nose against the seam of his hip, dragging your tongue underneath. He hissed and you moaned, his sounds only furthering your desire. Your panties were absolutely soaked as you took first one and then the other of his testicles into your mouth, sucking and releasing with a loud pop. 
“You are a dirty little slut, aren’t ya honey? You like sucking dick, don’t you?”
A moan was the only answer you gave him, your tongue now dragging over the side of his cock. Fuck, you wanted your hands free so you could touch him. Taking his length in your mouth again, you moved over him, his hips rocking forward to meet you. 
“Look at me, honey. Yeah…fuck, you look so damn pretty with my cock in your mouth. Wrap your lips around it. Yeah, just like that…”
Tears streamed down your face as you took him as deeply as you could. You scraped your teeth gently over the sensitive skin and he jumped, growling before slamming to the back of your throat again in punishment. Just as his grunts were coming faster and you were sure he was close, he grabbed your hair, yanking you off him. 
“Now to see if you taste as sweet as you smell.”
Heaving you over his shoulder, he tossed you to the bed, grabbing onto your hands and hooking the chain of the handcuffs over the bedpost, effectively keeping you restrained. Gator kicked off his pants and his boots before climbing on the bed. He roughly yanked off your panties and then pressed your knees, leaving you spread before him. 
Lying on his stomach, he leaned in, inhaling deeply again, “Fuck, just like peaches. I’m telling ya. Now, you wanna see why all the girls talk about Gator, honey, because I’m gonna show ya.”
He didn’t just lick. He didn’t just suck. This man fucking feasted on you like you were a turkey dinner at Thanksgiving. You cried out, pulling at the handcuffs, your hips bucking up off the bed. Gator’s large hands landed on each of your thighs, pressing you down as he devoured. 
“Fuck, Gator. Jesus…oh my god…that’s so good…so fucking good…” you whimpered, your hands opening and closing in desperate to grab onto his head and grind yourself against him. But you couldn’t. This man had all the control. 
“Mmm…I told you, Gator knows his way around moist places, honey.”
Fuck. You hated that goddamn word. This man seriously had to come up with better descriptions for a woman’s pussy but not even that was enough to break you from the fucking ecstasy you were lost in as his tongue slid down, entering you. That glorious fucking nose, a nose that looked like it belonged on a Roman God continued to nuzzle deliciously over your clit as his tongue fucked you. 
Your body was fucking humming. Gator was playing you like a violin and you were loving every goddamn note. When two thick fingers slid into you, pumping hard while his lips wrapped around your clit, you screamed his name, your thighs locking around his head. Your hips rocked up into him, your body desperately seeking sweet release. 
“I’m gonna…oh shit…oh god…Gator…”
“That’s right. Come for me, mama. Come all over Gator’s face.”
The tension within you coiled so tightly, you thought you would snap and then snap you did. With a scream so loud you were sure the entire party had heard, your orgasm crashed over you, your back bowing off the bed. 
“Jesus Christ…” you whimpered, collapsing.
“Mmm…” His lips pressed against your clit and you squeaked, jerking. “So fucking tasty.”
His chin glistened with your juices as he brought his two fingers to his mouth, slipping them inside, sucking the remains of your pleasure off. Your eyes fluttered closed, your body spent, completely wrecked after the most earth shattering orgasm of your goddamn life. The sound of foil tearing caught your attention and you opened your eyes to see Gator slipping a condom over his painfully hard cock.
“I ain’t done with you yet, mama.” Kneeling between your legs, he lifted one up, pressing it against his chest. “Gonna get nice and deep. I’m gonna hit places ain’t no other man ever hit.”
In one swift thrust, he entered you, stretching you, his cock filling you completely. Your eyes rolled back in your head, teeth clenched against the delicious burn. Gator did not wait for you to adjust to his size. He pounded into you, your skin slapping together harshly. 
Pressing forward, he bent your leg toward you with the weight of his chest. The next thrust sent him in so deeply that you swore you could feel him in your stomach. You cursed, gasping his name. 
“There it is…” he growled, rolling into you again and again, each time hitting a space that had you seeing fucking stars, planets, entire galaxies that you’d never explored but desperately wanted to.
“Jesus Gator…I’m gonna come again…I…so good…fuck…”
You wanted to grab his arms. You wanted to sink your fingers into that chest hair that was teasing you, tickling your nose. You wanted to rake your fingernails down his back. But you could do none of those things, the use of your hands taken from you.
A scream ripped from your throat as your second orgasm threatened to tear you apart. Gator didn’t cease his pace as your walls pulsed around him, pulling him deep. 
“That’s it…fuck yeah…I’m a winner…” he grunted, hips slamming into you again. “I’m a winner, honey.” Sweat trickled down his face. “I’m a…” His mouth opened wide, his body shaking as he stilled above you, riding out his own release. “Winner,” he gasped. “I’m a fucking winner.”
Your eyes went wide watching him and you bit down on your lip, thinking it would be a very bad idea to laugh at him right now. Maybe he was an idiot but if he could give you orgasms like that, you’d be willing to overlook a few flaws. 
“Those girls were right, weren’t they?” he demanded breathlessly. “Say it. Tell me they were right.”
“They were…they were right,” you breathed, struggling to catch your own breath. “You’re a winner, Gator.”
“Fucking right I am.”
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milkywaydrabbles · 7 months
Note
just read your latest kinktober!! so gooood 😫!! if you could pretty please do #21 with hanma shuji, sanzu, and the haitani brothers!
A/N: No on fucking look at me, I was not expecting this to end up being 3.3k and yet somehow...omg. Sorry for the demon that posessed me. This is pure filth, probably had more fun writing this than I should have but I hope you love it bc I do. Enjoy, mwuah
Threesome or Moresome x Hanma, Sanzu, Rindou, Ran
It was no surprise that the executives of Bonten did not like sharing. They didn’t like sharing their seats in the meetings (there were no fucking assigned seats), they didn’t like sharing their women (literally sex workers doing their jobs with whoever paid them), they didn’t like sharing their money, and most of all: they didn’t like sharing you. Another executive in the ranks
You hadn’t been with any of them, not really. Some heavy petting with Hanma here and there, a makeout session with the Haitanis at one point during a drunken night, maybe you gave Sanzu a handy when you were playing passenger princess for a mission. Nothing solid, and definitely not enough to any of them to stake ‘claim’ on you. You held your own, not letting any of them interfere with your work. You barely glanced in their directions unless you had to (you were softer with Kakucho, he was too sweet for you not to be) so that the ugly green monster didn’t rear its ugly head. What you didn’t know is that it always did anyways. 
Countless arguments and fist fights were had over who you belonged to (none of them!), usually between Ran and Hanma. Shuji just loved to get under the older brother’s skin, it was one of his favorite past times, really. It never ended well for any of them, usually beating the shit out of each other. On more than one occasion you’ve walked in on the fights, muttering something about them ‘being idiot assholes’ and slamming the door before any of them could even get a word in. But recently...something’s changed, you could feel it.
Hanma, Sanzu, Rindou and Ran have all been particularly kinder to you, unbearably so. They’d all look at you with a devilish smile plastered on their face, hell they’ve even gone so far as to no longer fight in your presence. You were suspicious of them, narrowing your eyes whenever another made a snarky comment and there wasn’t a complaint to be heard. You kept your distance, feeling like something was really off. After a particularly stressful mission, one that spanned the length of a week and had so many intricacies it was making your head spin, it was decided that the five of you would go out drinking to celebrate. You needed to take the edge off after walking on thin ice for the last few days. You had arrived at the usual bar--one that Bonten owned and had a private balcony for the execs and Mikey whenever they decided to swing by. The others were already there, drinks being passed around. They quieted down when you arrived, feeding you drinks and shots to ‘get you on the same level as them’
“Hanma you fucking alcoholic, slow down” You cackled, shoving the beer he tried to give you out of your face. “Who knew you were such a lightweight.” Rindou spoke, taking a sip of his own beer with a drunken smile. You pouted, ripping his own drink away from him, “I’m not. The cocktails were fucking strong that’s all.” You took a sip before giving it back to him, turning to Hanma again with a sigh. “Fucking--fine, leave me alone after this!” You threw your inhibitions to the wind, chugging the bottle as the rest of the crew bursted out in excitement and laughter. “There you go, beautiful” You bristled at Ran’s words, ignoring them as best you could but he could already tell you were reacting to them. Hanma’s turn to speak, “we knew you could do it pretty girl.” He cooed, squeezing at your thigh. You couldn’t ignore that. “What are you morons up to?” You squinted, drunk or not you knew the four of them didn’t get along that well to not let those two remarks slide. Sanzu grinned something wicked, eyes wide coked out of his mind. “We have a proposition for you, pretty.” You waited. “Sleep with us.” 
You barked out a laugh, keeling over and holding your gut. “Funny fucking joke, cokehead.” You waited to hear any sort of commotion--even Hanma egging you on to actually sleep with him. But you heard nothing. Okay, now you were concerned. “...You’re joking right?” Rindou shrugged, chugging the rest of his beer. “Look, we all know you’ve fucked around with us one way or another. You know we want you.” You swallowed dryly. “Easiest for none of these motherfuckers to get jealous is if you fuck all of us.” (Rindou was also one of the jealous motherfuckers, but he’ll at least keep cool longer.) “That’s a fucking joke! Absolutely not, no fucking way in hell!” You knew, even if they kept trying to persuade you, at the end of the day they would let you be. They weren’t fucking monsters. ( You were a soft spot for them, is all.) They let it be for the rest of the night, continuing on as if nothing ever happened. But...you couldn’t let it go.
So when they all found themselves in a group chat with you, and a text from you, they grinned like the devil himself.
| We play by my rules or we don’t play at all. My place, 9 pm. Don’t make me regret this, assholes
-
“Fuck, look at you pretty girl, taking me so fucking well.” Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, Ran’s cock ramming into the back of your throat as he face fucked you. You gagged and choked each time he pulled back, Ran growing more feral with each thrust hearing your pretty sounds and seeing your makeup run as you tried to steady your breathing through your nose. Behind you was Sanzu, kneading and slapping your ass as he shoved his cock deeper into your sloppy pussy. “Fuck, can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me.” The pink haired man groaned, spreading your cheeks to your drooling cunt swallow him up. “What a nasty little bitch.” One hand was occupied with Rindou, trying to keep up with his pace jerking him, though really he was more just fucking into your hand. “Move, Haitani.” Ah, the ever graceful Hanma. “My fuckin’ turn.” A tattooed hand ripped you off of Ran, taking the millisecond of opportunity to breathe in deep, before being shoved back down on another dick. Hanma pushed into your throat until your nose pushed up against his pubes, your free hand clawing at his stomach to give you a fucking minute. He hissed, pulling back and letting you breathe. “Don’t be a fucking asshole, Hanma.” You all but stuttered out, trying to keep your composure but a particularly harsh thrust right into that spongy spot deep within your cunt had you whining. “Fuck! Aah, Sanzu--shit.” You whimpered, looking back to see the wild eyes of the resident drug addict look at you with a smirk plastered on his face. “Yeah? You like that, baby? Like when I fuck that slutty little pussy?” He angled himself again to keep hitting that spot that made you see stars and you whined, nodding. They were overwhelming you in the best possible way and you didn’t know how you’d ever recover from this--how you’d ever fuck anyone else after this.
Hanma took your chin in his hands, trying to be more careful of you this time. “Don’t leave me hanging, angel, wanna see you choking on my cock.” You were starting to become so fucked out you nodded and licked a stripe up his long shaft, before swallowing him into your throat (at your own pace.) He groaned, hand gripping at your roots as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him off. You felt Rindou slip out of your hand and move towards the back of you. “Out the way druggie, I wanna taste her before you dickheads cum inside her.” Sanzu grumbled but complied anyway. Last thing anyone wanted to do was kill their boner by arguing. The younger Haitani spread your lips with two fingers, seeing your abused hole clench around nothing. “So fucking hot,” He murmured, gathering saliva in his mouth before spit right on your pussy, seeing his dribble out. The fingers that held you open moved to swipe at your clit, which caused you to moan around Hanma. “Fuck, whatever you’re doing back there keep going Haitani--moaning like a fucking whore around my cock.” He cackled, hand tightening in your hair almost painfully. But it felt so good you didn’t care. 
Rindou removed his fingers completely and licked a stripe up your wet slit. He let the muscle drag over your clit a few times before teasing your hole, dipping in before licking around your pussy again. The teasing was absolute torture, when all you wanted was to feel him inside you. He suckled at your nub with a groan, and slipped his tongue fully in you. He spread your cheeks fucking you with his tongue. Your muffled moans got louder,  grasping at anything you could get your hands on. Ran slipped in and grabbed your hand to place around his cock with a laugh. “Yo Rin, she’s fucking shaking bro, keep going.”  And you were, on the precipice of the strongest orgasm you think you’ll ever have in your life. You didn’t think that you’d ever be this turned on having sex with any of them--let alone all four at the same time. But they learned your body so quickly and used that information against you, brain melting. Hanma slipped out of your mouth, wanting to hear the wanton moans that were spilling out of your mouth. “Fuck! Rin, pleasepleaseplease don’t stop don’t sto-oh fuck!” You cried, tears slipping past those pretty lashes and your mouth shaped in a cute ‘o’ as you violently shook from your orgasm. You drenched Rindou’s face, and he happily lapped up all your juices with a laugh. “That’s what I’m talking about baby” he teased, sucking your clit into his mouth again until you had a second wave of shocks, now turning painful. You squealed , free hand pushing him away from your hole. 
“Rin, huh?” Hanma grabbed at your jaw, raising you up slightly from your knees so you were looking up at him. “If he gets first name then I wanna hear you call me Shuji, baby.” Your breathing was shaky, along with the rest of your body as you dumbly nodded. Your eyes were hazy and a small smile played at your lips--completely fucked out. “Look at her, fucking cockdrunk.” You had no idea who was talking anymore, barely paying attention as you tried to grab at the tall man in front of you. “Open up your mouth baby.” He cooed, and you immediately complied, sticking your tongue out. Suddenly you had a glob of spit in your mouth, some landing on your cheek too. Then you heard a laugh. “So fucking cute, go ahead and swallow baby girl.” Who you assumed was Hanma speaking, you did as you were told and showed him after, eyes that you didn’t even realize you closed fluttering open and waiting. “Fuck, you’re so pretty.” Sanzu turned your head closer to him, now kneeling to kiss you hotly on the mouth. It was all tongue and teeth, as you tried desperately to get closer to him. He licked into your mouth, sucking on your tongue and biting at your lips. The kiss left your lips swollen, you know it, but you didn’t care, bringing him back in after he let go. He mumbled a laugh in between kisses “someone’s needy.” 
You felt a mouth wrap around your nipple, and you keened, arching your back more into whoever was suckling at your chest. Ran, nipped at you, hearing you whimper at the short burst of pain before laving his tongue over in apology. “Let’s move you, baby. Lay on your back.” You complied, spreading your legs when your back hit the bed. The men around you groaned, all pumping their dicks as they saw the object of their desires and wet dreams so ready and willing to take them all. Rindou pulled you up, hanging your head over the edge of the bed and slapping his cock on your mouth. “Open up, baby.” He smirked, pushing his dick past your lips and seeing drool at the corners of your mouth. You had no energy to even blow him properly, letting him use you as a cock sleeve and fuck your mouth as he pleases. 
His thrusting only lasted a minute before a voice cut in, “let her up for a second, Haitani--wanna see that pretty face when I shove my dick in her.” Hanma ran a hand through his unkempt locks, lining his big cock to your hole and waited. “Come on baby, why don’t you tell daddy what you want?” He teased, laughing as you wiggled your hips towards him. “Hanma--” “Wrong.” You whined, moving more. “Shuji, please.” You whimpered, and he dipped the tip of his cock in to tease. “You know what I wanna hear~” You jut your lip out in a pout, “daddy please, I want your cock. Shuji, fuck me already.” He clicked his tongue. “I’ll let the attitude go f’now, see how far that gets you.” Suddenly his hips were flush against your and you felt like you got the wind knocked out of you. His pace was relentless, slamming himself into you over and over again. Your cries didn’t last long as Rindou abused your mouth again,  muffling most of the noise spilling from you. Sanzu bit and suckled marks into your skin--around your tits, on your chest, your waist, wherever he can get his mouth on. Ran fucked into your shaky hand, slapping the tit that wasn’t in Sanzu’s mouth. You cried, pussy clenching around Hanma who barked out a laugh. “The little freak likes it when you do that, Haitani.” Ran snickered, pinching harshly at your nipple before giving you another slap. “Yeah? Little baby likes it a little hard?” You could hear how cruel he sounded, but you didn’t care. The pain mixed with everything the men were giving you felt better than any drug Sanzu could supply you with. 
“Fuck, gonna cum down your throat, baby. Be a good girl and swallow it, yeah?” Rindou grunted, grabbing a hold of the sides of your face and fucked your mouth with vigor. It felt like he was in your stomach with how deep he was, Rindou loving the outline of his cock in your throat. “Fuck, baby, look at you.” He didn’t last long after that, spilling his cum straight down your throat with a moan, grinding on your face until he was done. You gasped when he finally let you go, swallowing down his cum as best you could without choking, some of it dribbling off the tip of his dick onto your face. You didn’t have much of a reprieve as Hanma took the opportunity to fuck into you hard, force shaking you on the bed. “Shuji, shuji! Fuck! “ You cried, clawing at the sheets trying to keep your head up to look at the way his cock pummeled your swollen cunt. “There you go, baby! Keep calling daddy’s name.” He snickered, spitting on your clit before letting his fingers rub at you. Your eyes rolling, feeling the impending orgasm bubbling higher up. Hanma pressed a hand down on your stomach as he angled himself, and you snapped. You were sobbing, your entire body shaking as your drenched him, trying to close your legs but he wouldn’t let you. “Shu--shuji no more” you whimpered as he laughed, letting go of your stomach but still fucking into your sloppy pussy. “Who knew you were a squirter, huh? Gonna make me fucking cum if you keep clenching baby.” His nasty words spurred you on, and even though you were exhausted you couldn’t help but tighten around him. 
A few more pumps and Hanma was emptying his balls into your cunt, stuffing you deep with his cum. He moved back to see it dribble out as you kept clenching around nothing. You couldn’t even think anymore--being tossed around like a rag doll before you were face to face with Ran. “Talk to me, pretty girl--you think you can keep going?” He sounded teasing, but you knew deep down he really was checking on you. You nodded, pulling him in to a bruising kiss before feeling him slip underneath you. “Want you to ride me, beautiful.” You lined yourself up with his length, pushing down and leaning over so he had a perfect view of your ass. “That’s what I’m talking about, angel.” He slapped your ass hard before gripping at your cheeks, bringing you down harder onto his cock with each pap, pap, pap. To your front, Sanzu’s cock slapped at your face, forcing you to open your eyes and look up at him. “Come on baby, use that pretty mouth on me.” You nodded once, and opened up wide to let him fill your mouth, sticking your tongue out underneath his shaft and bobbing your head. Ran met your bounces with a thrust up, using the momentum to his advantage to fuck you deeper. You kept crying, the overstimulation becoming borderline painful but it wasn’t enough, wanted all of their cum. Your hands gripped at Sanzu’s hips, slobbering on his cock, gagging and letting drool dribbled out of your mouth. You were a fucking mess, filled with cum, sweat and spit covering you. You should feel disgusting, but how could you? They were making you feel so good.
“Fuck me, beatiful. This pussy is still so fucking tight.” Ran practically wheezed, indenting your skin with small bruises on your hips with how harshly he was gripping at you. “Could fuck you every fucking day and you’d still be so fucking tight.” He pounded into you, cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. It hurt, but you still fucking liked it. Sanzu pushed you deeper onto him, seeing the spit and drool bubbling around him. “Sloppy little bitch,” he cackled. “Pretty baby can’t help but be messy, can you?” He taunted, facefucking you with no restraint. “Gonna cum inside you, beautiful, fuck. Need you to cum first.” A hand wrapped around to your swollen and abused clit, giving it a few slaps and rubbing at it, thrusting your cock up to rub at your walls and bring you crumbling down. Your orgasms were still pulsing your through veins, clenching him so fucking tight Rin ground you down and shot his load inside of you. You felt yourself fill to the brim with cum, two loads now covering your messy walls. 
Sanzu was right behind him, except he wanted to keep you messy. He pulled out enough to tip your head back and cum into your mouth, having the mess land on your cheeks, forehead, even your hair. Ran lifted you enough to slide from under you, holding you up when he felt you trembling and nearly collapsing. “Woah, hey baby come on lean back.” He cooed, having you lean on his chest as he motioned Hanma and Rindou to grab something to clean you up. “You okay?” He whispered, kissing at your temple that wasn’t covered in cum, feeling you nod against him. “Mhm, m’okay...” Your voice was low, throat raw from all the use. Ran smiled on your temple, moving away when Sanzu got closer to wipe away his mess from your face. “Looked so good covered in my cum, baby.” He laughed when you swatted at him. “Gonna have me dreaming of that face every night.” You groaned, “Sanzu, shut up.” smile evident in your voice. 
The men cleaned you up, and Hanma picked you up to bring you to the bath that Rindou had started for you. They were fucking assholes, but the least they could do was help you around after they fucked you nearly to unconsciousness. “Thank you, Shuji.” You murmured only for him to hear, petting his cheek as you looked around dazed. He kissed your palm, whispering a ‘you’re welcome, baby’ and letting you relax.
They’d be there when you were done, to ask if you needed anything else, to ask how you were feeling, and most importantly to ask if they could do this again some time.
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janeyseymour · 1 month
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personal and professional 1-3 was soooooo good it gave me an idea!
a mel x work crush reader story in which cute shy fem reader has a sleeper build. usually wearing regular lose fit clothing until one day they have to wear a fancy skirt and heels bringing attention to readers muscular legs. abbott crew starts asking reader questions about her workout routine leading a jealous melissa to make a snarky comment about reader skipping arm day to which reader says something like don’t let the outfit fool you i could bench you right now heels and all. melissa keeps pushing readers buttons until reader grabs melissa and starts overhead pressing with absolutely no issue to prove their point leaving melissa stunned. idk maybe it ends with melissa asking reader on a date that day after school?
Press You (Up Against a Wall)
WC: 3.3k
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You were hired as the long term substitute gym teacher at Willard R. Abbott Elementary School in January, but when the teacher who was out on maternity leave decided to leave the position permanently- that she can’t even believe she stayed there throughout her pregnancy in the first place- you were brought on for the full-time position. So, now you’re Abbott’s official gym teacher, and you couldn’t be more thrilled.
Really, any physical education teacher position is a score in your mind because showing up to school in sweatpants or joggers everyday is any teacher’s dream come true. But Abbott is so nice because you can pretty much do whatever you want with the kids- including dodgeball, which is banned at most schools. 
Under all of your gym clothes, you have a nice body- you’ll be the first one to admit that. Working out six days a week along with having a well balanced diet doesn’t go to waste. None of the teachers, or Ava for that matter, know that you’re a bit of a gym rat- okay, a really big gym rat. Sure, they know you’re athletic and that you’re slim, but they haven’t seen your legs- probably the best part about your body. You’re thankful for that because up until now, you’ve evaded the principal’s flirtatious personality and comments. 
The only person who knows how in shape you are is Mr. Johnson because you help him move things or fix things when necessary. He’s immensely grateful and has promised to keep your hidden figure a secret- he knows how you don’t want to be hit on like Gregory is.
But now, you’re being forced to go to PECSA, and you really don’t know why you have to go, but the school is paying for your hotel room, and you don’t have to attend any of the seminars based on curriculum because you don’t teach any of the core subjects (you had thoughts on that title… physical education was one of the most important for those kids to be participating in if they wanted to grow to be strong and healthy adults).
So while everyone else is supposed to be at their seminars, you sleep in before heading down to the gym to get your daily workout in.
After you’re finished, you head back up to your hotel room and shower before changing into an old band t-shirt, a light sweatshirt, and a pair of joggers. Deciding that you have enough time to explore and just soak everything in, you exit your hotel room.
As you go to back away from your door, so is Melissa Schemmenti- donned in a bathing suit as opposed to the clothes that she should be clad in to attend different seminars.
“Hey, Schemmenti,” you look her up and down. 
“Y/N,” Melissa looks you up and down too. “Don’t tell anyone, but Barb ’n’ I haven’t gone to a single one of those dumb jawns. All for the newbies.”
You mime zipping your lips before letting out a chuckle. “You’ll be at the big party though, right?”
“Hell yeah I will be. I have a math-o-rita chugging champion title to maintain,” she smirks.
“Good. I don’t think I could survive the Abbott crew without you to keep me company,” you blush as you tell her that. “Not that I don’t like the others, but… you know what I mean.”
“I gotchu,” she smiles. “Just stick with me and Barb, and you’ll be fine.”
You nod. “You mind if I join you now?”
“If you can get changed in the next few-”
“Nah, I don’t wanna swim, I just wanna relax in the presence of others,” you lie a little. You really just want to be in her presence.
You and her meet the kindergarten teacher down by the pool, and Barb’s eyes widen just slightly when she sees that Melissa brought you.
“Hello, sweetheart,” she still greets you kindly. “Decided to ditch the seminars?”
“I don’t have to go to most of them,” you laugh softly as you tuck a hair behind your ear. “Just the ones that have to do with PBIS and all of that. Other than that, I’ve just been kind of wandering. Saw Melissa, and I tagged along.”
“And she didn’t tell you to beat it?” Barbara raises a brow.
Melissa shrugs. “She looked like a lost puppy dog, so I took her under my wing.”
Little do you or Barbara know, she has had quite the thing for you since you first walked into the building and greeted her while she was bringing her kids down to special. And then when you spoke to her so shyly, but then she could hear you command the gymnasium to gain control of her class- it really struck a chord with her, and she was taken with you. She would never tell you that, and actually was a bit tougher on you than she was with others, but you have her figured out. She seems to be a bit tougher on those she likes rather than just ignore the ones who she tolerates or just genuinely doesn’t enjoy the presence of. 
“I can go if-”
“You’re with us now. Don’t be an idiot,” Melissa rolls her eyes. 
You bite your bottom lip nervously. “Okay, okay.”
You relax in the lounge chair next to her, and you have to admit it’s a little warmer than you were anticipating it being in here (foolishly… it’s an indoor pool area, what we’re you expecting?). So you shrug off your jacket, tie your hair up, and hike your sweatpants up to your knees.
If Barbara and Melissa notice your calves, they don’t say anything.
You end up falling asleep with your arms protectively wrapped around yourself, and you don’t wake until you feel someone gently shaking you.
“Hun, it’s time to get up.” You jolt awake, clearly terrified as your eyes go wide and your breathing gets deeper for a second. But then you look up, and there’s… well, there’s Melissa’s cleavage in your face, and then a bit further up are her emerald eyes. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s ‘kay,” you mumble as you yawn and stretch a bit. “Sorry I fell asleep on youse.”
“Aye, no problem at all,” she smiles down at you. “Just didn’t wanna leave you down here to think Barb and I abandoned ship, but we’re gonna start getting ready for the party.”
“I guess I should too,” you sigh softly as you stand.
You and the redhead head up to your rooms and start to get ready.
It doesn’t take you long to get ready. You really just throw on the dress you brought- one that accentuates your legs- before applying a light amount of makeup. You run your fingers through your hair as you glance in the mirror. You look good. Deciding that you would rather not kill your feet just yet though, you wait to put on your heels.
A bit later, you hear a knock on your door as you’re laying in bed and scrolling through Instagram. You stand and make your way to the door before looking out the peephole. It’s Melissa, and she looks… stunning. Her hair is in big curls, and she has a beautiful green dress on that only makes her eyes pop even more.
“Hey,” you breathe out softly. “You look… wow.”
She gives you a once over. “I could say the same things about you.”
Your cheeks turn red at her compliment and her lingering eyes on your body.
“You ready? I want a math-o-rita in my hand, and the lines will get ridiculous later on,” she tells you. “And this way we can save a table for our group.”
“Y-yeah,” you say softly as you continue to stare at her. “Just let me put on my shoes.”
She nods as she leans against the doorframe and watches. Then, you give her a nod, make sure you have your lipgloss and keycard, and head out.
When you get down there, she immediately heads towards the bar and quickly returns with two drinks in hand. She hands one to you, and the two of you clink your glasses together. You take a nice swig of it in hopes of relaxing. By the time the rest of your group joins you, both of you are on your second drink.
“You two are here early,” Barbara notes as she looks between the two of you. “Are we interrupting something?”
Melissa rolls her eyes. “We got here a little early to get a table.”
“You both look so nice!” Janine grins from next to her work mother.
You smile at her politely. “You as well.”
“I never really took you for a gym rat, although I suppose I should’ve,” Gregory chuckles. “Damn.”
“Seriously,” Jacob eyes you. “In the most gay way possible, I am looking respectfully.”
“What’s your workout routine?” Gregory asks you.
Happy to talk about anything other than work, you begin to list off the various leg exercises you do. Almost everyone is hanging onto your every word. At least that’s what it looks like. They’re all looking at you like you’re a star- all except the one you want to be looking at you: Melissa. She instead picking at her nails and sipping at her drink. The truth of it is, she is also listening to every word, and she’s beginning to get jealous of the way that everyone is ogling you and your legs. She doesn’t want that to show.
When you’re finished, she bites back a laugh. “Guess we skip arm days?”
“Don’t let the outfit fool you,” you chuckle. “My arms may look small, but they’re defined.”
“Compared to your legs,” she rolls her eyes.
“I could bench you,” you laugh back. “Heels and all.”
“Now that is something that I would love to see,” Barbara chuckles. She ignores the death glare your redheaded coworker sends her way.
“You will not,” Melissa states. “Not in this dress.”
“Maybe I’ll just do some bicep curls with you in my arms then,” you challenge her.
“I doubt you could,” she bites out. “Not with those chicken arms.”
You roll your eyes. “One of these days, you’ll see.”
“Sure I will.”
She continues to push your buttons throughout the night, and with the alcohol that you’ve taken in, she teases you.
“Couldn’t press me now, could you?”
“I could press you up against a wall,” you flirt shamelessly, liquid courage acting as your friend.
Her cheeks turn a violent shade of pink, and you grin.
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” you smirk. “I meant that I could squat against the wall and lift you up over my head.”
“That is not what you meant, and you know it,” she scolds you.
You shrug your shoulders innocently. “You’ll never know what I meant, now will you?”
After another round of drinks, she’s still teasing you. You finally decide that you want to put her incessant comments to and end. So, you sweep her off of her feet, heels and all. You make sure that her dress is appropriate before doing a few bicep curls with her in your arms.
She’s stunned, to say the least.
And then, with one little jerk, she’s up over your head. You bring her back down to your arms and hold her there.
“You ready to shut up yet?” you tease her, looking down at her lips.
Her eyes are wide and clearly impressed. She can’t even find the words right now.
“You ready?” you ask again.
She just nods her head, and you set her back down on her feet. You keep an arm around her until she’s found her footing again.
“That was really hot,” Jacob states. You jump slightly, not realizing he was there. “In the least creepy way possible. I had no idea you were that strong.”
“Most people don’t,” you chuckle as you down the rest of your drink. You wink at Melissa as you make your way over to the bar. “I got the next round. Another math-o-rita?”
She nods again as she makes her way back to your table. Barbara is sitting there with a smirk. “She put on quite the show.”
The redhead’s eyes linger on you as you stand at the bar and try to get the attention of the bartender. “Yeah,” she hums noncommittally.
“Girl, when are you just going to ask her out?” the kindergarten teacher asks.
That pulls Melissa out of her trance. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’ve seen the way you stare at her and the pep in your step when your kids have gym,” Barbara snorts. “Even in just her joggers and Abbott sweatshirt. You like her.”
“I mean, yeah… she’s a nice woman,” the second grade teacher tries to brush off her friend’s assumption.
“No, you like her.”
“So what if I do?” Melissa asks as she folds her arms over her chest. “There ain’t no way she would ever like me back.”
“She’s been practically drooling over you since she saw you in your swimsuit earlier today, and she’s currently buying you a drink,” Barbara laughs.
“We’ve bought each other drinks before.”
“But I don’t drool over you in a bathing suit, and I know you don’t drool over me,” the kindergarten teacher snorts. “Just ask her out.”
“Maybe when I’m sober,” Melissa rolls her eyes. 
You start to make your way back over, and the redhead can’t help the way that she watches your hips sway.
“You’re drooling,” Barbara nudges her friend.
“Shut up,” Melissa laughs. She takes the drink that you offer her with a grin. The two of you raise your glasses in a toast before you link arms and chug.
You wipe the liquid that had made its way around your mouth with a chuckle. “Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll still be able to lift ya, no problem.”
You wrap your arm around her waist and squeeze her hip gently, the liquid courage once again taking over.
She blushes, but she quickly gets swept away by Derek, challenging her to yet another math-o-rita chugging challenge.
That leaves you and Barbara sitting at the table together.
“So,” the kindergarten teacher nudges you. “When are you gonna make a move on that redhead you were curling earlier?”
You raise a brow. “What do you mean?”
“When are you gonna ask her out? I heard you tell her you could press her up against a wall, and you and I both know you didn’t mean that in an innocent way,” she chuckles.
You shrug. “Maybe when I’m positive she likes me. I ain’t about to make a fool out of myself and then have to work with her.”
“I think she made it pretty clear she likes you with the way she’s been practically undressing you with her eyes all night,” the kindergarten teacher tells you. 
You laugh. “No she hasn’t.” When she raises a brow and hits you with the trademarked Barbara Howard look, you sigh. “Okay, maybe when we’re both sober… if I can ever work up the nerve.”
“Just give it some thought, sweetheart,” Barb tells you. “Melissa… she’s a tough cookie, but she’s got the biggest heart I know of, and as much as she tries not to, she wears it on her sleeve.”
You nod thoughtfully before smiling. “You think she’d say yes to a date with me?”
“No question,” your colleague tells you.
You think on it for a second, and you go to speak again- to tell Barbara that you might just ask her tonight- when you hear Melissa loudly calling your name.
“Hun! I need a cheerleader so I can absolutely kick Derek’s ass again!”
You look over in her direction and raise a brow, questionably.
“Please, babe!”
Oh, you know she’s so drunk. You can’t ask her out on a date, a serious one, when she’s as hammered as she is. You roll your eyes playfully but saunter over.
She slings an arm around your waist before she gets another drink. Without any hesitation, she chugs the entirety of it before Derek can finish even half of his. You’re impressed to say the least. After she slams down the empty glass to prove she’s finished, she kisses your cheek in celebration.
Not that either of you know it, but Barbara has a video of it.
It’s a bit longer before the two of you finally decide to retire to your rooms for the night… you’re both quite a bit intoxicated, and the redhead practically hangs off of you as you help her down the hall.
Of course, when you go to turn to your own room, she grabs your arm. “Come in?”
“Yeah, I can,” you tell her gently. “Just let me change, and I’ll be over.”
She gives you her best puppy dog eyes, but you insist. “Mel, I really don’t want to be in this dress longer than I have to be.”
“But you look… stunning.”
“While I appreciate the compliment, I would like to get comfortable.”
She relents and turns into her own room. When you knock on her door again, she’s still in her dress though, with the sweetest frown on her face.
“I can’t get out of this,” she tells you. “Stupid zipper.”
You enter her room before spinning her around gently. You unzip it with ease.
“Jeez, take me out on a date before you start undressing me,” she quips teasingly.
You see the opportunity in front of you, and you take it. “How about tomorrow at seven?”
“Only if you show up with those legs out again,” she flirts back.
“It’s a date.”
The two of you spend a few hours chatting and having a few more drinks in her room- beers she brought with her to pre-game before your really do head back to your room to get some much needed sleep.
As you pull the blankets around you, you smile to yourself. You know that she isn’t going to remember you asked her out tonight, but you think that you have the courage to do it again sober now.
The next morning comes, and Melissa comes out of her room with her hood up, sunglasses over her eyes, and she’s drinking Pedialyte through a straw as she wheels her luggage out.
You roll your eyes at her fondly. “Hey there,” you greet her, entirely too perky for her liking at this hour and in her state.
“How are you not dying?” she asks.
You smirk. “I didn’t have a chugging challenge with Derek last night.”
“Eh, worth it to keep my title,” she shrugs.
“You better rally for tonight. You have a date.”
“What?” she lowers her sunglasses so you can see the shock in her eyes.
You smirk. “You have a date… with me.”
The smiles that she breaks out into could light up all of Philly alone. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
With that, you leave her to continue to nurse the hangover for the car ride home with Barbara as you race off to check out of the hotel and head home. You have a date to plan.
Melissa waits down in the lobby for Barbara to finish packing up her weekend bags. When the kindergarten teacher comes over, the redhead, although clearly hungover, is deep in her own thoughts. 
“What’s got you looking like smoke is about to come out of your head this early in the morning?”
“I have a date with Y/N tonight.”
“About damn time,” Barbara smiles. “Let’s get you home so you can nurse that hangover and be ready for her.”
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vienssunshine · 8 months
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Comfortable?
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pairing: Maki Zenin x Reader nsfw word count: 1k content warning: suggestive physical touch/speech, alcohol/drunkenness author’s note: Rewatching season one to prepare for the pain of season two. At least there's Maki!
A layer of haze separates you from the lively party that's taken over Panda’s dorm room. You sway along with the music, basking in the delightful, buzzing warmth that fills your chest. 
However, when the glass bottle centered in the circle of your sorcerer friends spins and stills pointed in your direction, you sober up.
Nobara squeals, clapping her hands together. “Yes! It hasn’t been their turn in forever!”
“I don’t think they’ve gone once,” Megumi comments, taking a sip from his drink. 
"So what will it be?" Nobara asks you, "Truth? Or dare?” 
The first-years are great, but it’s hard to have high expectations for the truths or the dares they’ll ask of you, especially when this is their first party ever. You finish what's left of your seltzer. “Easy, dare.”
“Salmon.” Toge gives an approving nod. 
“What’re you gonna dare ‘em to do?” Itadori exclaims, leaning over Megumi to face Nobara, his eyes wide. 
“I don’t know! What do you think?” she responds with an enthusiastic grin. 
“Calm down, you’re gonna spill my drink,” Megumi groans, pushing a too-eager Itadori out of his personal space.
“This dare better not be as lame as the last ones,” Maki says, sitting back on her hands.
“You might be asking too much,” you say, and she returns the grin you give her, sending a flash of heat through your body.
“Fine,” Nobara scowls, “We’ll come up with a good one.” 
Itadori and Nobara crawl behind Megumi and begin to furiously whisper to each other. So much talking and they’ll probably just ask you to prank call Gojo or chug the rest of your drink. You’d be fine with anything, as long as it doesn't involve her. 
Your eyes run over Maki, she’s leaning back on her palms with a beer by her side. There’s a pink flush spread across her elegant features, no doubt from the impressive amount of alcohol she’s consumed tonight. She looks more entertained than usual as she watches Nobara and Itadori wrap up their debate. You realize you’ve been staring when her golden eyes catch yours, so you divert your gaze, instead looking over to the scheming first-years. When you do, the evil smiles spread across their faces make you question your selection of 'dare'.
The warning glare you give Nobara does nothing to stop her from gleefully announcing the product of their discussion: “Your dare is to sit in Maki’s lap for the rest of the game!” 
To anyone else, the dare is mild, only a little more scandalous than the ones they’ve given so far, and yet, it sends a panicked thrum of your heart splintering through your body. You quickly strangle the sensation; you’re in front of everyone—in front of Maki—so you have to play it cool. With a roll of your eyes, you respond, “C’mon, that was the best you could come up with?” like the request was as boring as heading to the kitchen and grabbing someone another drink. 
“Yep. It’s the dare we chose,” Nobara responds, too smug for your liking.
Pushing down a retort—it would only raise suspicion—you cross the circle of your jeering peers over to Maki. She's sitting on the floor with her legs spread wide and watching you move closer, her gaze piercing. You stop right in front of her; you’re not sure how to go about this.
The smirk that’s been present since the dare was revealed hasn’t wavered. “Go on, you can sit down,” she says.
“You got it!” Panda cheers.
“Shouldn’t be hard, right?” Nobara chimes in.
“Not hard at all,” you respond. You press your lips together, turn, and lower yourself to the ground between Maki’s thighs, sitting cross-legged. Satisfied, the onlookers turn their attention to the next victim of the bottle, Panda. 
Unlike them, you can’t just move on from the dare, you’re required to sit in Maki’s lap for the rest of the game which, though you worked hard to not betray it, is a lot for you. 
Already you’re having so much trouble. You’re in shorts, so you can feel the fabric of Maki’s cargo pants on your knee. And through that fabric, you can feel the thick muscle of Maki’s thighs. Worse, if you move back any further you’d-
Maki takes the weight off her hands and sits up, pressing her chest to your back. Your eyes widen as her hands thread underneath your arms so they’re resting in your lap, fingertips just barely grazing the exposed skin of your thighs.
“Comfortable?” Maki whispers the words centimeters from your ear. You tighten up, overwhelmed by her sudden closeness. It feels like her body is surrounding yours. 
Thankfully, after a second, you remember how to breathe, and then how to talk. “Yeah, I’m fine. Uh, is this okay for you?” 
“More than okay,” she responds. 
Your mind is spinning, but, at the same time, there’s a tingly, giddy sensation filling your stomach, a reminder of how you’ve wanted this, wanted her. 
“Then, is it okay”—you cover her hand with yours, committing it to your thigh and guiding it closer to the space between your legs—“if I do this?”
With her mouth so close to your ear, you can hear her breath hitch at your daring. 
“You’re teasing me, pretty girl,” she purrs.
“Like you haven’t done the same to me?” you retort, looking over your shoulder with a smirk. You note that the flush on Maki’s face has deepened despite her not having drank anything more. 
“Alright, then let’s settle this,” she challenges.
“Fine, let’s,” you agree before turning back to the group, saying, “I’ll be right back."
"You're not copping out on the dare, are you?" Nobara frowns.
"Nope, just going to the bathroom.” 
You untangle yourself from Maki’s arms, get up from the floor, and head down the hall. When you glance behind you, heat twists in your stomach as you see that Maki has excused herself from the party as well and is following you to the bathroom, her cat-like eyes hungry for more. 
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writingseaslugs · 10 months
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Diasomnia: When They're Sick
Ahhhhhh finally! This dorm actually took the longest because I kept getting side tracked with other things. Took me two days to write it. I blame my friend, Em. We had write night and we couldn’t stop talking long enough for me to write these. I got midway through Lilia before giving up.
Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!
Request Information | Masterlist | Au Information
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Diasomnia: When They’re Sick
Fae sickness was something that was vastly different from the kind that humans experience. It’s normally stronger and makes the person infected feel like a zombie. Thankfully the virus doesn’t circulate too often, but when it does it comes through like a hurricane. All it takes is for one person to visit Briar Valley when it’s going around and then come back to the dorm and everyone who can get it is sick. Sadly this happened and to say that everyone was in the dorm was suffering was an understatement. Even the humans were getting sick from flu season…overall not the best time to be visiting Diasomnia.
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Malleus Draconia
Malleus hadn’t been sick in a hot minute…how long we’ll never know. It just never really happened to the Dragon Fae. So when he did come down with a surprise flu that was exclusive to Fae, it caused a bit of an uproar in Diasomnia. Most students were told to keep quiet about the situation, but it didn’t stop rumors from spreading as Malleus began missing some classes. Sebek was tense while going to school and Lilia, for the most part, also wasn’t attending classes so he could care of the prince.
Lilia is the one who actually shows up to your dorm room to inform you about Malleus’s condition. He isn’t very subtle about it either, in fact he was a bit over dramatic as to how bad off Malleus was. Now at this point, the worst of his illness is gone. Lilia wasn’t about to drag you in for that shit show that was the first few days of the fae flu, but he is dragging you in on the last few days in order to help Malleus feel better emotionally. Poor dragon boy has been stuck inside his room not being able to do much, and it caused him to be restless. The moment he sees you appear in his room his entire day has already brightened up.
Malleus has no issues taking medicine, though what he takes is certainly not something you’d be used to. The glowing liquid in the vial looks almost alien as you hand it over to him. There were several lined up, all labeled according to when he had to take them. It was odd seeing him chug the glowing liquid since it was still glowing in his neck as he took it, only to fade out when it got past the neck. Apparently it was special medicine made in Briar Valley that was specially made to help combat the flu.
Please do him a favor and make something for him to eat…please. Lilia has been in charge of bringing him his meals, so some of them have been unique. Granted, Lilia did try following the recipes this time around to make sure Malleus didn’t get worse from his cooking, but they can only help so much. Lilia can’t help but think “Maybe if I add this it’ll help him feel better faster.” which ended up in a vile concoction. So please bring him something good to eat so he can have a palate cleanser. He’ll probably be asking if you can stay until he’s better just so he doesn’t have to eat another of Lilia's specialty meals.
You’re going to be receiving random gifts at your home as soon as he’s better, along with several letters. Chivalry isn’t dead when it comes to the dragon fae, and he’s making it known that he appreciates what you’ve done. You’re never going to find out about the earlier stages of him being sick though, so don’t worry. That’s something that you probably will never see in your lifetime if he has anything to say about it.
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Lilia Vanrouge
Lilia is also someone who doesn’t get sick very often; the last time he did was before Malleus was even born. So to say he was shocked when he began feeling sickly was an understatement. He knew exactly what was going on too, he had the fae flu a few times in the past, and it’s a feeling you never forget. So he’s already getting medicine prepared and telling everyone that he’s going to be taking time away from classes for maybe a week or two.
Lilia originally wasn’t going to be dragging you into this, but when you found out from Malleus that Lilia was acting strange and isolating himself in his room, you were curious. Lilia was in his room, covered in tissues with a red nose and watery eyes, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t even notice you had come in, which says something. Of course he’s going to accept help even if it does pain him to let you see him like this, but he isn’t exactly able to do much himself at the moment.
Once he has you taking care of him, he’s going to be so happy and be far more of a big baby than he was earlier. He now has you to give him medicine and attention, and he’s living for it. He’s never actually had anyone taking care of him while he was sick, so this is new and pleasant for him. He’s going to be over the moon but also extra needy as he begs for an extra dose of medicine even though he had some like five minutes ago. You’re going to have to remind him to let it kick in, but he can’t help the whining. It’s so fun watching your facial expressions and despite being sick, he still needs to mess with you somehow.
This is the only time he might complain; and it’s not even for the reasons you think. He’ll take one bite of your food and comment he can’t taste anything, before asking for you to take him to the kitchen so he can add flavor. Don’t. Let. Him. Absolutely don’t let him even leave the room, he’s contagious and he’s aware, but he also really wants something with a strong taste so it’s a mix of emotions. Just let him know you’ll see what you can do and maybe grab something that’s…different to put into his meal next. It doesn't have to be good, it just has to be unique.
Once he’s better he is so hyped to be able to hang out with you again. He’s going to be jumping off the walls and thanking you for being such a good caretaker for the poor, old Bat. Silver, Malleus, and Sebek will also be thankful to you for helping Lilia, since he refused to let any of them see him while he was sick. He apparently didn’t even let Silver into the room, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to catch whatever he had. Lilia didn’t want anyone to see him so weak and frail, but you guess since you came in unannounced he didn’t have much of a choice.
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Silver
Silver clearly can’t get a disease that targets fae, but that doesn't mean he can’t still get a cold. Falling asleep in random places can really ruin someone’s health, and Silver is no exception. He fell asleep outside and it got a bit too late, a little bit too cold. The next thing he knew he had a horrible cold and a raging headache that wouldn’t go away. So he did what was best and went to his room and tried to sleep it off without a second thought.
Silver in the past was always able to get over colds very fast, so Lilia never was too worried when he found out Silver was under the weather. You, on the other hand, were very concerned. If Silver just slept it off, then he might get better, but it was best to treat the cold as best you could. After all, colds could turn to pneumonia in the blink of an eye, and that can literally kill a human. Somehow this passed by Lilia’s knowledge so he never cared too much, but after you express this concern he goes full dad mode. He doesn't know much about treating humans though, so you’re the one leading the way. Thankfully Silver is too out of it to protest.
Silver will take whatever you give him judging by how he’s half asleep when you’re there. Whenever he’s sick he’s extra tired and literally can barely keep himself awake. It’s extremely concerning but Lilia swears it’s how he’s always been. Silver might be able to thank you while he’s half asleep, but that’s about it. Thankfully the taste doesn’t get to him while he’s in this state, so no worries about him spitting out the medicine or fighting due to the flavor.
This is the most challenging part about him being sick. Again…he can barely keep himself conscious. Just getting him to sit upright to have a meal is a struggle. You’re basically spoon feeding him as he begins dozing off every couple of seconds. You need to make sure he doesn’t drown in his soup. At one point, smelling salts actually do sound like a rather good idea to use on him. It’s going to take a solid hour for him to finish whatever meal you bring to him, but at least he’s eaten something. Normally when it’s just Lilia, he won’t eat until he’s all better. Small improvements are still improvements!
Silver hardly remembers being sick, but he does recall glimpses of you between his fever dreams. Once he’s back, he’ll be thanking you and asking if you’d like to go on a walk. It’s just his way of saying thanks. The walk is mainly so all the forest animals will run up and greet you guys, since they were all concerned once Silver was gone. The animals and Silver are very grateful for the efforts you put forward to assisting him in getting better. While he can’t promise he’ll be able to give the same care for you, he can at least say he’ll do his best if you ever fall ill.
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Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek, out of everyone, is the worst when it comes to denying he’s sick. He could literally pass out from exhaustion from his illness, and he’d get back up and apologize for his displays in front of Malleus. Lilia is the one telling Sebek he needs to rest, and the only way Sebek will is if Lilia reminds him that his illness is contagious and could make Malleus ill. So of course this leads Sebek to going to another extreme and barricading himself in his dorm room so that no germs can get out. This makes it hard for anyone but Lilia to get in to check on him.
He refuses to let a human help him; you have no idea what a fae illness is. How could you possibly help? Wait…Malleus personally asked you to come help nurse him back to help since you can’t catch whatever it is he has? Why of course, Lord Malleus is so generous and he needs his guard back as soon as possible, so it makes sense he’d send a servant to help him. Just remind him you aren’t a servant and you’re here because you care for him. He will get flustered but will do his best after he is finally open to you helping him out.
Medicine is something that he’s not super stoked on taking, but if Lilia bought it, then he’ll take it. He will give you the side eye if you stare at him while taking it and ask what’s so interesting about it. When he grimaces it’s a bit funny with how his face scrunches up and he quickly tries to conceal it. You caught it though, it was so obvious that he disliked the taste and it was oh so adorable.
He’s not super picky when it comes to the stuff he eats while sick, as long as Lilia hasn’t touched it. He might even comment that it tastes good for something a human managed to cook up. That’s him secretly saying that it tastes amazing and he loves it, he’s just not going to say all of that out loud. He does prefer it if the meals will help him get better faster though, so keep that in mind. He also wants a lot of protein to be in it so he doesn’t lose bulk, because he might still be trying to work out while sick. Smack him over the head and tell him to take a chill pill and relax. If need be, get Lilia to do it for you. He needs rest and it’s not something he’s good at.
Once he’s better he’ll thank you out of obligation, because Lilia literally won’t let him go without saying it. He might even be blushing but he’s going to have to add something to make it into a subtle insult. “You played a good nurse…well for a human at least.” at least it’s something. Just inform him that it wasn’t for free and the next time you’re sick, he’s the one giving you medicine and home cooked meals. He can’t even say he won’t. He can’t be indebted to a human, after all.
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iheartyouyou · 8 months
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SWEETHEART | Jeremiah Fisher
Summary: After your parents file for a divorce, you’re forced to move in with your mom’s friend until the divorce is finalized. You wished you could stay with your dad and your friends, but when you meet Jeremiah Fisher, that changes. And now you’re wanting to stay in the Cousins. Too bad things don’t last forever.
Word Count:
Part: 8
previous part series masterlist
Authors Note: I don’t know why but I can’t tag some people even though I’m spelling their users right. I’m sorry for that, I have no idea how to fix it. Anyway, thank you for all the love and support from the other parts! <3 I also apologize for grammar or spelling mistakes, I tried to proofread but I’m not sure if I got everything.
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You chug the rest of your beer, rolling your eyes at the obnoxious scene in front of you.
“Tell me more! Tell me more…” Jeremiah’s and Cam’s voice fades the more you walk away, turning the corner to find the nearest bathroom.
Noticing the long line that probably hasn’t moved in 10 minutes you make your way upstairs.
After your little pity party earlier, Conrad arrived. It was strange for him to be here since he’s been all “moody and quiet” as Belly would put it, but it made sense since Nicole was here.
“Hey, you see Jere anywhere?” He asks you, looking at you for split second before looking around the yard.
You cross your arms over your chest, “Probably in one of the rooms hooking up with someone.”
Conrad looks at you, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “That’s Jere. If you see him, can you tell him I’m staying the night here?”
You purse your lips, really wanting to be petty and say something along the lines of “oh he’s probably going to be staying the night at his one night stands place as well” but you decide against it.
“Sure.”
Conrad thanks you, entering the house.
Staring at the liquid inside of your red cup, you realize you shouldn’t be outside because you were avoiding Jeremiah and Taylor. You should go in there, make new friends and have fun.
You bounced your leg up and down, anxiously.
Screw it. You probably look like some weird loner out here. Even Conrad’s inside and he’s supposed to be the anti-social one.
And after many drinks and socializing with many people, you somehow ended up in the living room where karaoke was going on. Leaving almost immediately after Jeremiah and Cam started singing their hearts out.
You made no effort in trying to tell Jeremiah what Conrad said. You avoided him all night, the moment he walked in the same room, you walked out.
Placing your cup somewhere, which most likely will never be found, you make a beeline straight to the stairs.
You may have had a little too much to drink that night as it took all your strength to not eat shit on the stairs. Finally making it up there, you try every door only to be met by some random couple either in the midst of making out or ripping each others clothes off.
“Sorry.” You say loud enough for the third couple you walked in on to hear. You close the door, your eyes drifting to the last door at the end of the hallway.
Oh please be a couple free zone.
If not, you can just wait in line. Or find a bush outside.
You hold your breath as you peek your head in, grinning as there was no couple on the bed. Just a flower crown.
You walked in, slamming the door behind you and flinching hard when you heard the two gasps coming from beside you.
“Ew, what the hell you guys! You couldn’t have done that in the car?” You complain, throwing your flower crown next to Taylor’s that was on the bed.
Steven and Taylor were frozen in horror, staring at you with wide eyes.
You scrunch your face up in disgust, walking by them to get to the bathroom. “Wha—“
“Oh my god!” Belly shrieks, pointing at the two in disbelief.
Before Belly could even confront the two, Steven dashed out of there.
“Steven—“ Taylor starts, trying to grab his arm before he could leave but he already did.
“You’re hooking up with my brother?”
“I swear, It just happened!” Taylor excuses, shrugging as she look between you and Belly.
Belly makes a face, “Wha- What you got bored? He’s dating someone! You know, someone he actually likes.”
Taylor scoffs, pointing to herself. “You’re saying he couldn’t like someone like me?”
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying—“
“Ohhh, shittt! Steven has a girlfriend!” You say out loud, finally putting two together.
Belly spins to look at you, her eyes narrowed. “What? Did you know? Jesus— how long have you guys been hooking up?”
“I just got here! Like a second before you, maybe half a second before you…” You say, starting to ramble before Belly cuts you off.
“This could get so messy, Steven, he’s taking her to the deb ball and all those girls are her friends!”
Taylor rolls her eyes, “Oh my god! I’m so sick of hearing about this fucking deb ball. I don’t even know who you are anymore.” Taylor looks her up and down, using her hands to elaborate.
“Why? Because I’m not just going along with everything you wanna do? Is that why you threw yourself at my brother? So, that… you can get back at me?”
“Y’know, you act so innocent Belly. Like you’re the victim.” Taylor hisses.
“Victim?” Belly repeats.
“I think you’re the self absorbed one, Belly. How do you not know I’ve had a crush on Steven for years. If you weren’t so obsessed with Conrad—“
“What is wrong with you? People are going to hear!”
“Who cares! There’s more than one story happening here but you seem to only care about the one where you’re the main character.”
There’s a pause before Belly excuses herself, rushing out of the room.
You stand there awkwardly, watching Taylor pace the room as she buries her face into her hands.
“Starting fights with everybody tonight, huh?” You sarcastically say, stopping when Taylor looks up to glare at you.
“Mind your own fucking business.” She snaps, snatching her flower crown off the bed before storming off.
You shrug to yourself, rushing to the bathroom.
-
“Okay but think about this… what if we are all dead but we just don’t know it? Like when we die, will we know when we are dead? Will it just be a void or what?” Your new friend slurs, explaining with his hands to prove a point.
You nod quickly, “That makes so much sense! I wonder if I’m dead.”
“I wonder if I am too.”
There was a pause before the two of you broke into fits of laughter, snorting and not giving a damn since pretty much everybody in this household was drunk.
“I wonder if vodka and apple juice taste good.” You ramble, putting your finger to your chin as if you were thinking.
Whatever his name is scoffs dramatically, shaking his head way too fast. He stops, looking like he was going to puke before going back to normal. “Y’know what’s good? The cherry mountain dew and vodka. That shit is chefs kiss. You ever see Gordon Ramsey?”
“Gordon Ramsey? Oh. my. gosh. Like JonBenét Ramsey?”
“No, that’s different. I’m talking about the old guy.”
You think for a moment, taking a sip of whatever you had in your cup before responding. “Oh the british guy.”
“I think he is! You know how to talk in a british accent?” He speaks in a accent, raising his eyebrows up and down.
You had no idea what his name was. But you bumped into him on accident and the two of you just started talking. Who would’ve known you guys would have a lot in common?
“Yes, hello sir.” You speak in a terrible accent that wasn’t even british, frowning as the guy broke into a laugh.
You flinch at the sudden weight around your shoulders, turning to look at the one and only, Jeremiah Fisher.
“Heyy look, it’s playboy!” You chirp, shrugging his arm off you.
Jeremiah ignores your comment, doing some dumb handshake with your new friend who now wasn’t your new friend because apparently he knew Jeremiah.
“Oh great.” You mumble, drinking the rest of your drink.
They make some small chat while you awkwardly stand there, swaying on your feet as you thought of ways to get out of there.
I’m gonna go use the bathroom!
I’m gonna go find a drink!
I’m out of here!
Adios!
“Oh right, I came over here to take this little fire cracker home.” Jeremiah announces, pinching one of your cheeks teasingly. You smack his hand away, glaring at him.
“Okay, I guess I’ll see you around then?” The guy asks, hopeful.
You smile, nodding. “Yeah.”
He scratches the back of his neck with his free hand, hesitating, “You, uh, you think I could get your number or something?”
Your eyes widen, your cheeks burning. Oh god, did he just ask you for your number? You heard that right? Right?
“Ye—“ You start, already searching your pockets for your phone before you get cut off.
“It’s actually been a crazy day, think we’re just gonna call it a night. Let’s go, Y/N.” Jeremiah states, staring at you expectantly.
You glare at him, sending an apologetic look to your new friend. “Whatever. See you around.” You managed to say before Jeremiah led you through the house and to his car.
Jeremiah opens the door to the backseat, impatiently waiting for you to get in.
You don’t. You just stand there.
“You couldn’t have waited till after I gave him my number? You’re such a cockblock.” You complain, looking back at the house.
Jeremiah rolls his eyes. “He’s a player anyways! You wouldn’t have been the only girl on his phone.”
You scoff, sarcastically smiling at him. “Says you!”
He groans, letting go of the door to rub the bridge of his nose. “Just get in the car, Y/N. I’m tired.”
“I’m tired.” You mock, begrudgingly getting into the car. You reach out to close the car door before Jeremiah could.
You look through the window and watch as he stood there for a moment, seemingly contemplating on something before walking back to the house.
You waited until you couldn’t see him anymore to kick the seat in front of you out of anger, which was barely a kick as your leg felt way too heavy to even move. Same thing with the rest of your body.
Stupid Jeremiah.
Always ruining everything. Ruined Belly’s dinner for you, ruined the party for you, what else is he going to ruin?
It’s funny how fast he changed from the moment you met him to now. When you first met him, it was like, it was too good to be true. He was practically a golden retriever just in human form. Everything about him was perfect, everything. His hair, his eyes, his lips, oh dammit, why didn’t you kiss those lips—
You stop, holding your breath in realization.
Did you have a crush on him?
Pfft, why would you, have a crush on Jeremiah Fisher?
But I mean, who wouldn’t?
No. Stop it.
The car door opens, making you jump.
Jeremiah tosses a napkin at you, “There. You happy?” He closes the door before you could even react.
You pick up the napkin, flipping it over to see the number written in pen ink. You feel guilty.
Both the driver and passenger doors open, causing your eyebrows to furrow. Isn’t Conrad staying the night? Didn’t Taylor leave with Cam and Belly?
“Taylor, you better not crash my car.” Jeremiah complains from the passenger seat.
God dammit.
“Relax, Jeremy. I’m actually a excellent driver. Plus, I’m not the one who chugged a beer in under a minute for what? 5 dollars?” Taylor giggles, starting the car. She moves her seat forward along with fixing the rearview mirror.
“Hey— it’s money. You would’ve done the same!” He says defensively.
You don’t bother with putting your seat belt on, too exhausted. Leaning your head against the door, you close your heavy eyes. Their argument fades into the background, your head pounding.
-
“THAT’S TOO CLOSE!” You jolt awake, scanning your surroundings before realizing you were still in the car. Jeremiah and Taylor still in the front seats, arguing.
You rub the side of your face that was against the car door, looking out the window to see that you guys were outside of the familiar beach house.
“Gosh, you’re so dramatic!” You hear Taylor say, putting the car in reverse before slamming on the breaks. The breaks sends you forward, not enough to hurt you but enough to fully wake you up.
“Excellent driver” my ass.
Jeremiah sarcastically groans, “I’m never letting you drive again.”
“Good! Your car smells anyway.” Was the last thing you heard before the two of them exited the vehicle, their argument being muffled.
You looked around the backseat, searching for your phone along with the napkin. You spot them on the floor, snatching the both of them and shoving the napkin in your pocket.
You squint your eyes as the light from your phone nearly blinded you, checking the time and missed messages from earlier.
Belly
Left early 11:25
Jeremiah said he would give you a ride 11:25
Perfect for some alone time if you know what I mean 😏 11:26
Oh yeah how should I ask Cam to the deb? Do you think he would want to go with me? 11:28
Smiling, you shake your head. You type out a quick response but before you could send it the car door opens, revealing Jeremiah.
He holds the door open, rubbing his eyes before motioning for you to come out. He holds out his hand. You take it, shoving your phone into your pocket.
Silently, he wraps his arm around your waist before closing the door. He helps you into the house, then up the stairs and to your bed room.
He finally let’s go, sitting you down on the bed.
Crouching down to your level, he scans your face. “Are you wearing makeup?”
You realize how close he is, your breath hitching. You looked into his eyes, those eyes, getting lost for a moment.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nod.
“Where’s your makeup remover?”
You point to the vanity. He gets up, unzipping your makeup bag before he stops. He holds up wipes, “This?”
“Yeah.” You muster out. Your heartbeat quickens as he comes back, stopping to crouch in front of you.
You reach your hand out to grab the wipes but he stops you, grabbing your chin with his other hand and softly pressing the wipe to your face to get rid of the makeup.
Your cheeks heat up at the gesture, feeling the cold wipe on your face as you dropped your hand. He takes his time, making sure to get everywhere.
He tosses the wipes in the trash can, going back to his crouching position to take off your shoes. You don’t stop him, your whole body felt like it was burning. You’ve never felt like this.
It felt like you were going to explode. Or puke. You didn’t know if it was because there were too many butterflies in your stomach and they needed a way out or just the alcohol you had tonight.
“Your hands looks better.” He mumbles, grabbing your hand to examine it. He flips it over a few times before letting it.
You stare at your hand the bruises looking more of a yellow-greenish color, “It’s pretty sore though.”
“I’m surprised it didn’t break.”
“What, after you guys ditched me?”
He’s quiet, frowning. “I came back for you.”
“Pfft, because you knew your mom would kill you if you didn’t.” You say, dropping your hand into your lap.
“I came back for you, not because of my mom.” He affirms, making eye contact with you so you could know he was telling the truth. You break it, your cheeks feeling hot.
There was silence for a moment but he breaks it, suggesting that you should lay down. You agree laying down as he shimmies the comforter out from underneath you. He tucks you in and fixes your pillows, making sure you were comfortable before he wishes you goodnight, leaving.
“Jere?”
He stops, turning back around to look down at you in concern.
“You okay? You need anything?”
You shake your head, staring at him. “No… I just…”
You felt so weird. So tingly. You were exploding with so many different emotions. You’ve had crushes before, silly crushes… but this was different.
You wanted to tell him. But, was it too late? What if Taylor was right? Would he really just hook up with you to leave you the next day?
“Thanks.” You finally settle on saying, facing away from him. You bury your face into the covers, mentally cursing at yourself but also just wanting to sleep.
He doesn’t respond.
And before you know it, he’s gone.
Taglist: @mindflay3r @lexi-2004 @buckys2thicc @agoodmansaid @jeremiahfisherslover @yourfavoritefangirl @leslienjazzy @natsgaygf @justkayleighhere @puptails @simp4jackharlow @yobabygirlally @whenmypartysover @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @medusaslilsister @maexxc @siriuslysmoking @nowimyurdaisy @totallynotkaibiased @eevee0722 @theyallhaveluv4lyricb @wh0reforstefansalvatore @pariahsparadise @angelbabyyy99 @lillygwenstacy @buckysh0e @nctma15 @ashlenxx @yeosxxx @elcpsstuff @historygeekqueen @ilovemen2much @picturethosesmiles @kristen-walker28 @dassah2022 @inkedfeatherz
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scarletevening · 3 months
Text
EYES ON YOU [ SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY ]
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cw: suggestive, sexual tension, strangers to lovers, not beta read, might be military inaccuracies because i'm not in the military, alcohol consumption, medic! fem!reader. this is part two of a series. part one. notes: sorry for such a long wait, i just went through the academic trenches. words: 1,222.
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It was expected that the friendly crowd would welcome you, but drinking at the local pub in uniform was not something you anticipated.
Luckily, you had the chance to change out of your… not so clean scrubs into another set of a simple grey. 
Sighing as you sat beside Soap, or as the mesmerizingly gruff voice called him, Johnny, at the end of the cushion booth. You smiled at the rest of Taskforce 141, happily introducing yourself once more. Conversation was easy with an easy crowd, they were all friendly, even more so when they learned you were a personal recommendation by their Mrs. Kate Laswell. 
“Looks like someone stole my seat, aye?” 
Low, almost inaudible, Ghost murmured as he slipped into the seat beside Gas, or Kyle, though not as fondly called by that alluring voice. You smile, laughing in soft tones as Gaz nudged his new neighbor's arm. Of course, he meant no harm, anyone could tell, but the unassuming way your eyes fluttered away from his made it seem like something else.
To be honest, it probably was. 4 shots, a margarita, and taking sips out of Soap’s, which he ordered in humor after he chugged too much of something else, Pornstar martini, you genuinely couldn’t let left from right. 
But you could tell his eyes from theirs.
All night, every second, every time you turned, away or to, he was watching, like a predator on the hunt, he stalked your every move. Arms crossed his broad chest, shifting only for a moment to sneak a sip from his old-fashioned as he carefully lifted the bare minimum of his mask. It was almost impossible to look away, no matter how trained the others were to shift their eyes, sober or not, you couldn’t help but stare at the pale skin beneath. 
Then suddenly, his eyes met yours. It felt like white-hot lightening, the way you couldn’t look away, even as his hand dropped to settle his glass back onto the table, his mask following the same direction, even when the others laughed drunkenly as they cut your paycheck in half. 
He didn’t look away and you couldn’t.
You felt your cheeks burn, your eyes snapping back to the salted rim of your glass as you mindlessly laugh along with the running chatter. They burned holes into the side of your head, you felt as they traced every feature, every curve, dip, whatever else was on your face. It made you tremble, made you hold your cup a little tighter. But it wasn’t out of fear, it was a notion you weren't quick to resist. 
If anything, you leaned into it.
You let your fingers tap across the glass between your palms, debating how to go about this. The man, that after a couple, two, (2), interactions, you had become completely enthralled by, was eating you alive with his eyes. 
Trying not to make your intoxication too evident, you purr, leaning onto your elbows on the wooden table, 
“Y’know… Soap’s right, we should play a game.” 
Maybe you should’ve been a salesman with how easily they took your offer, ignoring that they, too, were drunk and easily impressionable. They laugh, especially the Russian one who was, far too often, accidentally funny.
Soap cheers, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he nods his head, pointing at the rest of them babbling about his ingenious idea. In his drunken state, his hand slips down to your waist. He swayed, holding you close, teasingly grinning,
“Aye, Ghost, yer’ looking a lil’ jealous?”
The way he twitched, his gloved hands tightened around his whisky, gorgeously intimidating eyes narrowing, piercing into the blue eyes beside you. Used to his tactics, Soap, pokes a bit more, squeezing your waist, while you nervously chewed on your lip, comfortable in Soap’s arm, but melting under Ghost’s eyes. 
Your eyes drift away under the pressure when Ghost’s eyes move from Soap to you, a stern utterance of, “Johnny,” before they shift. Focusing on his drink, you eye the cherry settled atop the block of ice in his glass. 
Johnny continues raving about some random form of a drinking game that would surely have you all taking far too many shots and dying of high blood alcohol content. You nodded at each word that followed his mouth, your eyes following the shape of the maraschino cherry.
Then he moved it.
Grabbing the small, artificially red stem, thick, gloved fingers carefully grab the tip, pulling it away from its place above the ice. He rests his elbow on the wooden table, his dark eyes scrutinizing the plump, round cherry dangling from his fingertips. 
”You want it?” 
You blink, eyes fluttering up to his hesitantly, met with an intense gaze that made you want to look away, but so mesmerizing you couldn’t. You didn’t reply, not sure of your own answer, No, I want you.
“The doctor mute?” He muttered at your silence, gravelly voice barely making it through the buzz of the surrounding people. His bulky figure let out a sigh, watching the way your lips parted in surprise. Straightening out, still a little woozy, your eyes blinked, 
“I- yes, I’d like it.”
He gives a skeptical look, analyzing the slow movements of your hand as you reach out for his. Your fingers wrap around around the lower portion of the stem, knuckles knocking against his as you hold the sticky stem. Ghost lets go just as you take hold, the moment your hand grazes his cold gloves barely a second for any of the detail to be even mildly valuable. 
But It felt like minutes, the way you stared into his eyes and he stared back as a damn cherry exchanged your hands with an exotic kind of excitement. Your hand retracted quickly, his hand lingered,, his elbow still digging into the table. 
It was just you two, eyes on each other as the conversation beside you spun into an unintelligible droning,
“Well?” 
Low and sharp, he asked, eyes trailing down to your lips for, who knows what time within the night. You blinked a couple times, now was your chance. God, you were fucking desperate. 
Keeping your eyes on him, you bring the crimson fruit to your lips. He never looked away, his eyes not on yours, but watching the way your lips took in the juicy flesh between your teeth, your lips closing around the stem to pop it off. 
You see him shut his eyes, desperate to hear the gruff voice as his eyes snap away, a hand coming to cover his mouth.
"Doc! We should play musical chairs!"
Your eyes snap to Soap, stammering in surprise, lucky to have alcohol as an excuse when your face begins to heat up, 
"Yea- what?" 
You scoff in confusion, still trying to shove away the fluttering in your stomach. "We-... We can't do that in public, Sargent." The others laugh as Soap continues to ramble about the available space in the common area at the base. You couldn't help but grin, your foggy mind slowly clearing its yearning.
Only he didn't laugh. It's been consistent with a spectrum of people that said he had a cold demeanor. But this was different, this was distraction, and two blue eyes saw right through his balaclava. 
⚬ ☠︎︎ ⚬
I feel like their drunk-ness was a little ooc but for the plot. giggling and kicking my feet i hope this counts as slow burn bc i really like reading slow burn and this is my first series. also, will probably make a masterlist bc i wanna be organized. taglist: @141trash, @thriving-n-jiving, @agorophobicreader, @murder-hobo
EYES THAT HOLD SECRETS
directory
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miasmaghoul · 6 months
Text
Okay @herbal-quintessence.
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A quick little something to satisfy your curiosity.
(Follow up to this fic)
"Daddy?" Aeon murmurs, tired but still incredulous. "Really?"
Aether chuckles in his ear, accompanied by the sound of rushing water. The other ghoul must be cleaning himself up.
"Really," he rumbles, fading into a yawn Aether doesn't even try to stifle.
It hasn't been too long since Dew conked out, still a sweaty, sticky mess after taking the shade of Aether's knot. Aeon hadn't expected that part; Dew's always been active participant in aftercare, needy for contact, but tonight the little ghoul had been out like a light before Aeon had even pulled out.
Aether had laughed gently at Aeon's immediate panic, but was quick to reassure him. To tell Aeon that Dew should have warned him about how his body handles the aftermath of quintessence. He'll be out for about an hour, according to Aether, and when he wakes up he'll need a bunch of water and a kiss between the horns before anything else.
Aether had also said that nothing short of armageddon itself could rouse Dew in this state, but Aeon took him off speakerphone just in case. Speaking in hushed tones himself. Wouldn't want to risk rousing the little guy, who is currently drooling onto the duvet while Aeon and Aether have a little post-nut chat.
"Didn't peg him for the type," Aeon says, reaching over to run his fingers through Dew's hair. Working out tangled ends. "Figured he'd be more of a sir guy."
Dew sniffs, smacks his lips. Snores. Aeon smiles, crosses his legs. Aether makes an amused sound then, and Aeon tips his head as though the other ghoul can see him.
"Who said it was for him?"
It takes a moment for Aeon to process the words, the gears in his head chugging along at half speed after all his hard work. His brain feels like it's been poached, fuzzy with electric heat. When he figures out what Aether means, and he can say is,
"Oh."
"Oh," Aether teases, breathy and feminine.
Aeon has to chuckle - he's sure that's probably what he just sounded like. He couldn't help it, really. Aether wanting to be called daddy? Surely that discovery is enough to warrant an embarrassing noise or two.
"And for the record," he continues, accompanied by a shuffling sound. A shirt being changed, maybe. "He isn't a sir guy either."
Well that's interesting.
"Oh yeah?" Aeon takes his hand back from Dew's hair to rest it over his suddenly tingly cock. No way he's getting anything else out of it tonight, but the pressure feels nice regardless. "What kinda guy is he, then?"
"That's for you to figure out, pet," Aether tells him, a playful tilt to the words. "I'm not one to spoil things."
Aeon snorts, but doesn't press. There's no fun in being told these things anyway. Better to learn by doing.
"Fiiiiiine," he sighs anyway, sounding woefully put out. "Ruin my fun."
"Any time," Aether replies, and he next laugh is one they share.
Aeon yawns then, tired to his bones. He slides down the bed, does a half roll so he lands on his side, scooches himself across the mattress until he's at Dew's side. Close enough to reach out and rest a hand on his back, tacky with their combined drying sweat.
"Think I'm gonna doze while I can," he mumbles, nosing at Dew's temple. "Will he wake me up if he has to?"
"You can count on it," Aether assures him. There's a pause then, a break in mood, and then Aether huffs. "Give him an extra kiss from me, would you?"
Aeon may still be new here, but he knows pining when he hears it.
"'Course," he says, pressing his lips to the shell of Dew's ear. "Anything you want me to tell him while I'm at it?"
Aether chuffs.
"You don't have to worry about that part. He knows everything I want to say."
Aeon's sure that's true.
"Consider it done," he slurs, body heavy and eyes heavier. "Nap time now."
Aether laughs, and Aeon feels fuzzy all over.
"Sleep well," he coos, kind. "And thank you. For tonight."
"Any time," he yawns, and despite that pervasive heaviness he manages to smirk when he adds, "daddy."
A clatter answers him, Aether swears in the distance, and Aeon hopes his phone didn't hit the floor screen-first.
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zombholic · 6 months
Note
Hiii! I love your writing so much. I was wondering if you could possibly write something about softballplayer!reader with abby/ellie. Like maybe reader loses a huge game and abby/ellie is there to help with the frustration.
HOME RUN — ellie williams
description — modern au, no post outbreak, softball player!reader, girlfriend!ellie, college au, smut mdi.
authors note — guys idk anything abt softball so like bare with wtv sport terms i use :/
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The rivalry team had ran several home runs, you threw your hat on the dirt ground in frustration. Your jaw clenched as you watched the whole team celebrate in their win, rolling your eyes you walked over to the bench chugging the remaining water in your water bottle.
“Next time guys, I’ll see you guys next week for practice.” Your coach was disappointed but she wasn’t the type to show it.
Your whole team followed your captain to the locker room, defeated looks plastered on every girls face. The whole room was silent the only sound of feet shuffling and duffle bags zipping up.
You were the last to leave the locker room, losing was never your thing and it never will be. You’re a competitive person, anger was just boiling in your veins.
“Y/n? Baby, you here?” You heard the raspy voice of your girlfriend call out for you in the echoing room.
“Yeah Els, m’here.” You were sat on the bench tying up your laces, hearing the footsteps of her get closer.
“Hey, stop with the pouting you guys lost one game out of how many?” She squatted in front of you, her arms on her knees with her tattoo that you loved so much on display.
“But this loss was so fucking stupid! We could’ve had it if fucking Jaden knew how to throw a damn ball!” Your voice was now growing louder in frustration.
“Baby, she’s new, just a freshmen don’t be so rough on the girl.” Ellie hand your hand in hers, rubbing the back of it, leaving soft sweet kisses on the back of it.
You sighed taking your hair out of the stupid bun you quickly tossed it in, Ellie always knew how to soothe you. Having a girlfriend with anger issues was not easy to deal with but she knew how to ease you with little things like kissing you so gently as if you were fragile.
She grabbed your chin pulling you into a loving kiss, lips melting into each others. Ellie was swift with changing her position from her toes to the bench with each leg over it, pulling you closer by your waist.
The kiss getting hotter every lingering second, Ellie was a sucker for slow kissing, the way she took her time feeling your tongue with hers made her sluttier. You slowly pulled away from her giggling watching her chase after your lips.
“Not in the locker room baby, someone’s gonna walk in.” Your comment made her roll her eyes.
“Everyone is probably home, c’mon.” She bit her bottom lip, her black framed glasses sliding down the bridge of her button nose.
“Be quick Ellie.” Is all you had to say before her slender fingers were quick to undo your pants.
You bit your lip trying to hide the grin forming on your lips, seeing how desperate your girlfriend was for you even after all these years of being together. You lifted up your hips to help her slide them off faster along with your panties, you watched her get on her knees for you, her hands were quick to throw your legs over her shoulders.
Ellie was a little pervert, she fucking went crazy over your scent even stole some of your underwear while she was fucking you into absolute oblivion. She kissed the inside of your thighs, leaving little love bites that made you squirm and whine for more.
“Mm so needy sweetheart, use your pretty little words.” The way she knew how to sweet talk you could make you orgasm.
“Please Ellie, please touch me.” You huffed a little feeling your body start to heat up from the inside.
“Touch you where baby?” She basically mocked, her lips kissed your aching clit causing you to buck your hips.
“Please touch my pussy, please Ellie.” The way you begged for her had her brain hazy.
Her lips connected with your pulsing bud, sucking on it so deliciously your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your fingers made their way onto the roots of her hair as your thighs spread further apart.
“Mmgh— oohh fuuck Ellie.” You felt her two fingers slide so easily into your soaking cunt.
She curled them so amazingly making you clench around her, her pace quickened with every moan of her name that slipped out your whiny lips. Her tongue swirling around your clit making the pleasure overwhelming.
“Fuck, I could eat this pussy for hours.” She muttered to herself, fucking her fingers into your squelching hole at an ungodly pace.
“M’gonna cum— gonna cum Els!” Your mouth fell open feeling the pressure in your stomach rise.
“Aww gonna cum pretty? Cum all over my face.” Your eyes half lidded looking at your girlfriend devouring you.
The way her glasses fogged up the frames, her green eyes locked onto your pretty ones. Fuck she looked so beautiful like that.
“Ohmygod.. m’cumming i’m cummin Ellie!” Your orgasm hit hard it had you seeing stars for a minute.
“God you should see your pretty little fucked out face doll.” She chuckled wiping her chin with the back of her hand, a cocky smirk smacked onto her face.
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bittersweetorpheus · 9 months
Text
☆ LIFE, DEATH, AND REBIRTH ☆
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☆ AUTHORS NOTES ☆
(This ended up getting written from Dottore’s POV. The God featured here is reader.)
😋 SACRILEGIOUS DOTTORE X DEITY!READER ???!!!!
I know I’ve been going for M.O.N.T.H.S but I came back to drop this and leave again. I was chatting with a dottore bot on character.ai which got my brain juices flowinggg so I had to open my computer and write this!
P.S: a certain part of this fic was inspired by one of hoyoverses other games *cough* HONKAI STAR RAIL *cough* 🤭. The real ones know which part it is ‼️💪
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☆ CONTENT WARNINGS ☆
Death, gore, corpse, body horror aspects, sumeru archon quest spoilers
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Dottore would admit that he wasn’t the least bit religious. Unlike the families that would give thanks before each meal and the Tsaritsa who believed Celestia should be struck down for trying to gain authority while You were absent, he couldn’t care less.
Afterall, however powerful they were, Archons could still die, so what was the difference between them when they all succumbed to the hands of death in the end? Was it power? No, he, himself, had created a being powerful enough to host the Gnosis of Kusanali, the Dendro Archon. Was it their life span? No, he, himself, had managed to create doubles of himself, all from different points in his life.
So in short, he didn’t spare a thought for the Archons, left alone The Creator. This, of course, did not help his nefarious reputation by any means, but he spared it no thoughts.
He did however grow curious about the abilities about this so called Creator when rumors about their descent started. Now, he finds himself in his main laboratory in the Tsaritsa’s palace with The Creator sitting on the examination table across from him- mind you, the cot that he had stained with blood just a week or two ago.
Now that he thinks about it, he never got around to cleaning it.
“Well?” The voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He turns to look at them.
They wear a veil made out of a material he’s never seen before. Its sheer enough for him to make out the outline of Their face if he squints, but not more than that. Their clothes are made of the same material and seem to flow and move on their own, as if gusts of wind are constantly blowing at their garments.
Even if They aren’t The Creator, they’re definitely something far from mortal.
“Your blood is certainly unlike any I’ve ever seen before. It’s as if you melted cor lapis and combined it with crushed star sliver, but it glows like lumenstone. I wonder if it has any affect on organisms of this world, or if it just looks like this and nothing else.” He observes.
They chuckle dryly, “why don’t you drink it and find out?”
He grimaces beneath his mask, he’d rather not chug down a nefarious bodily liquid at 2 in the morning from someone who he dosen’t care much for.
Not that They were unattractive, of course. He would go far enough to say They were probably the only one who made him take more than a few glances at. No hard feelings, he just dosen’t care much for The Creator… or fakers.
They seem to pick up his feelings about what They just said and glide down from the examination table.
“Or would you rather I show you some properties of my blood myself?” They ask, pointing their intricate fan towards the corpse of his previous patient across the lab from them.
That fan had gotten Pantalone and Ningguang into an amusing biding war against each other, each hoping to gift it to The Creator. In the end, The Creator caught wind of it and ended up setting up a business meeting to stop the nonsensical month-long biding war. They left with a blush on their face and both several times richer. Apparently The Creator had managed to get them to get along and turn the business meeting from about one about a fan to an important business meeting that helped both of them build important business connections with each other.
“Give me the vial,” They command.
He’s already walken over to Them and given Them the vial before he realizes what he did.
They pour the vial of their ichor over the corpse and it springs to life in an instant, screaming and moving away from Dottore.
It seems like the people they revive retain their memories, Dottore notes.
“Are you satisfied now? Or is there something more that you’re expecting?” They ask him. He can’t see their face through the veil but he gets the uncanny feeling that they’re staring straight through his very soul.
“I’ll admit that this is quite fascinating, however, it’s… unexpected, to say the least.” He admits.
“Oh? Why is that?” They drawl.
He gets the feeling that they’re probably smirking right now.
“While some legends do say that The Creator’s ichor heals and even resuscitates people, most them say that even a drop of The Creator’s ichor could bring about the cataclysm.
Once, he had wondered if that had been the start of the cataclysm, or if it was just another fabrication.
“Hm, is that how this world sees my ichor?” They hum, “well, every universe has different theories about me.”
“Oh? Then is it true? Can a drop of your ichor cause the end of this universe?” He says, teasingly, or mockingly- he dosen’t really know either.
“It depends on the mood I’m in,” They reply.
Yeah, They’re definitely smirking right now.
“But I suppose with the type of person you are, you wouldn’t believe me unless you saw it with your own eyes,” They say, snapping their fingers, “come, my darling Zandik.”
He raises his eyebrow at that. That definitely caught him off guard, all right, however, what catches him more off guard is the portal that appears in his lab.
He takes one last glance at his laboratory. This chance only comes once in a life time, after all. Even if They aren’t what They say They are, at least he’s getting some entertainment out of this.
He steps into the portal after them. Curiosity killed the cat, or whatever ridiculous saying there is, but he’s in one piece when he steps out of the portal.
He gives himself a quick glance over. No new limbs sprouting from his body.
He takes in his surroundings. He seems to be in a universe with buildings that look similar to Liyue’s but with flying ships and surrounded by more advanced technology than he can take in.
“Look.” The Creator commands, pointing to guards dresses in what he would assume is this world’s armor.
On a side note, they’ve arrived on a huge tree overlooking the middle of a battle.
Some soldiers crouch with their hands over their heads. Looking closer, Dottore can see branches sprouting from inside their armor, (their bodies?), and growing outwards. Slowly, they all collapse and become afflicted with the same condition as them, sprouting foliage from their bodies with a grotesque scream.
Sensing his confusion, The Creator launches into a story.
“Not many people know this, but I don’t create the universes and worlds all by myself. This world was a case where I got bored and decided to create another god, or Archon, as you call them in your world, to have them shape this world instead. Whilst they was shaping this world, they grew more and more attached to the mortals in this world. They approached me and told me that everytime a mortal that he loved past away, their heart grew heavier and heavier. They begged me for a sample of my ichor, believing that if the mortals started drinking my ichor in place of water, they would remain immortal and everlasting, just like me. I warned them of the risk but he stayed adamant. I loved them, so I gave them my blood.” The Creator seemed to wilt in sadness. “Instead of being ‘gifted’ eternal life like they thought the mortals would be, the mortals became struck with a curse where, when they died, their body would start decomposing like it would a normal dead one, but they were still alive. In a last ditch attempt to save their people, the god sacrificied themself to me, hoping that their sacrifice would convince me to help their people. I buried the god in the earth we’re on right now, and the power imbued in the earth was the cause of the foliage growing from the mortals… or immortals now, I suppose.”
“Dottore stayed silent for a few beats after their story, “then if you’re The Creator, will you ever die?”
“It depends on what your definition of ‘death’ is,” The Creator replied, “I’ve died millions of times, over and over again and will continue to do so, but then again, I’ve also never died a single time and will never die. I am not the god of life, death, and rebirth, I am the concept itself. Everything comes from me and everything will return to me in the end because I am everything.”
The Creator slowly removed their veil, and reality itself seemed to break the more of Their face that They revealed. They looked him in the eyes, and it felt like he was looking at everything and nothing at the same time. He could see the void in their eyes, a place of nothingness, but also everything that was happening in the universe at the same time.
They put their veil back on. “Well, did that satisfy your curiosity, my darling mad scientist?”
Dottore could feel his heart speed up, an unfamiliar feeling filling his chest- Oh Creator, is he religious now? Well, whatever he might be now, he thinks hes not so against drinking nefarious bodily liquid after all.
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