#also I couldn’t figure out a way to say ‘dress in a way that wouldn’t challenge the status quo’ but that’s what I meant by

[mrsriddlenott]

~ Costume? That’s Barley Clothes.~

Theo Nott x fem!Reader

[masterlist]

Summary: Malfoy!Reader who’s annoyed that they can’t be Theo’s date to the Halloween party dresses up to get his attention and ends up with more than one set of eyes on her. This is kinda short, I just wanted a Halloween themed oneshot.

Warnings:Possessive Behavior,Jealousy, Secret Relationship,Toxic(ish)Theo,Smut,Choking, Creampie.

“Baby, you know I’d go with you if it were up to me. I thought he wouldn’t be there I’m sorry.” Theo was annoyed to say the least, not only did his plan fail miserably, but you also seemed to blame him for it. The only reason he even wanted to go to this stupid party was for you, but of course Draco just had to decide last minute he wanted to go after all.

“I’m sorry, I know you wanted to dress up but he’s not gonna sit this party out.” You just eyed the much taller boy, he hadn’t put on his costume yet and could easily decide to stay with you but, “He’d get suspicious,” like it would be the end of the world if Draco knew. All you could do was roll your eyes with a sigh, laying down on your bed with a book as Theo watched you.

“Are you gonna say anything?” You just huffed at him, meeting his eyes for a second before returning to pretending to read your book, “If Draco found out I ditched the party he’s gonna come looking, and if he finds he in his little sister’s dorm he’d throw a fit.” You slammed your book shut, crossing your arms with furrowed brows before eyeing him from where you sat.

“His little sister huh?” You were frustrated, you couldn’t tell what he wanted anymore. One minute he’d be calling you his sweetheart, future wife and mother of his children, and the next he’d barley look at you, laughing in the Common Room from jokes Draco makes at your expense. “Just go to your party, I’m not some little kid who’s gonna cry without your attention for an hour,”

You huffed as his jaw clenched, eyeing you with a flash of anger, “I didn’t say you were a little kid, It’s just that if D-“

“Yeah I know if Draco finds out you’re in trouble,” You sighed as you rolled your eyes, slipping off your bed and leaving Theo trailing you with his darkening eyes, “I’m gonna take a shower, have fun at the party.”

Theo grumbled to himself as he left your dorm, slamming the door behind him as hard as he could just as you slammed the bathroom door. You sighed to yourself as you stared into your mirror, you weren’t just gonna sit out on your last Hogwarts Halloween party with Theo and he should have known that. You quickly threw on your costume and did your makeup light, wanting the glittery cat ears on your head to be the center of attention.

You wore a small black dress that could honestly barley be called a dress, paired with black heels that would bring your height to only a couple inches under Theo. You let your hair fall straight behind your shoulders, holding it back with the cat-ear headband, black eyeliner bringing out the color of your eyes with classic red lipstick drawing attention to your lips. You decided for no bra to let the dress hug your figure entirely, pulling it all together with a tight black belt adorned with a sleek black cat’s tail.

Goosebumps covered your skin as you made your way up the stairs to the packed Slytherin Common Room. A haze of smoke flitted over the various packs of dancing and conversing students while you made your way through to Draco and his friends usual spot.

Your skimpy black cat costume was basic, but a classic that was sure to drive Theo crazy. Your eyes met his as soon as the crowd parted to let you through to the group, leaving almost immediately to rake his eyes across your body as you approached. However you completely ignored him, walking up to Draco and announcing your presence before slipping away to get a drink, feeling Theo’s dead eyes stare into your back as you did so.

You hastily filled a glass with spiked punch and leant against the table with a sigh as the lanky figure of Lorenzo Berkshire approached the drink table only a few feet away from the group,“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight,” You eyed his loose button up and black jeans, he wasn’t wearing costume and if he was you had no clue what it was but you didn’t mind. He’d do.

“I wasn’t planning to at first,” You lied, turning to fully face the tall brunette, feeling Theo’s burning gaze on you both now, “But since it’s all you guy’s last year I figured I should come to as many parties as possible this year, don’t you agree?”

You maintained eye contact with Enzo as you lightly bit your lip, watching his eyes fall to watch it bounce back in place before meeting yours again. His eyes lingered in yours for a second as a smile slowly grew on his face. “I’m gonna be honest here, I thought you and Theo might’ve had something going on.” Enzo’s voice was low and intoxicating as he inched closer to you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Theo zoning in on the words spoken between you and his friend with a clenched jaw, no longer trying to hide his annoyance.

You laughed sweetly at up at Enzo as he eyed you with his bloodshot gaze, “Theo? He’s just my brother’s best friend Lorenzo, why would there be anything going on between us?” You had to make an effort to keep your eyes on the lean boy in front of you as his hand found it’s way to your waist, he tugged you closer to him slightly just as the shadow of Theodore Nott engulfed you.

“Walk away Enzo.” The boy in front of you retreated with raised hands and a mocking smile, sending you a wink that made you giggle as he slipped into the crowd, much to Theo’s dismay. Theo’s large hand took in your wrist as he tugged you toward the boys’s dorms. “Aren’t you afraid Draco will see you leave with me Teddy?”

You forced the most sincere voice you could muster, poking out your lip in a dratamatic pout as he turned to you with daring eyes, “I don’t fucking care.” He spat, tugging you into his dorm room before slamming the door shut behind you both.

“What the fuck are you wearing first of all?” Theo snapped, turning to meet your eyes as he loosened the tie around his neck with a huff. You looked down at your dress then back to him with your eyebrows furrowed before simply saying, “A costume.”

“A costume?” He chuckled, poking his tongue into his cheek as he eyed your body again, “That’s barely clothes.” Theo sighed, eyes dead and set into yours before eyeing your outfit again, though this time he didn’t seem to have a problem with it at all.

“It’s the same thing I would have been wearing if you came with me,” You huffed, crossing your arms with a roll of your eyes before meeting his gaze again with a challenging stare.

“That’s different, I’d have been with you.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he spoke, taking in his sentence with a laugh and shake of your head. “So maybe you should have come with me?”

“I would have if it weren’t for your annoying ass brother,” He snapped, stepping closer as you stood your ground in front of his bed. “Speaking of which, I’m just Draco’s best friend now? Last time I fucking checked not all of Draco’s best friends get to fuck you almost every weekend,” He shouted, his eyes bore directly into yours but you didn’t waver. He didn’t scare you and he knew that, but you both knew you probably should have feared him a little.

“Well I guess I could change that couldn’t I, Enzo seemed rather eager, maybe I’ll start with him.” You laughed, biting at your lip and going to turn around before feeling Theo’s large hands dig into your arms, turning you to face him as he shoved you into the end post of his bed.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” His voice was strained, clearly hurt by your jab but you didn’t care, though you probably should have. “Or what?” Your voice dripped with desire as his face edged closer to yours, your thighs clenching together subconsciously and before your knew it his lips were on yours in a hungry kiss. His hands fell to your waist as yours wrapped around to meet in his hair, tugging at it to egg him on as he lifted you just to toss you on his bed.

“You’re a fucking brat.” He growled, crawling up your body as his eyes dug into you before smashing his lips back against yours. Face paint and lipstick smeared together, ending up in each other’s mouths as your teeth clattered together. “Now I’m gonna have to teach Enzo a lesson on who he can and cannot touch because of you.” He whispered into your mouth making you shiver and sending a rush of warmth directly to your core.

Theo’s lips and teeth worked down your neck, nipping at it and leaving a trail of bruises in their wake as his hands worked to push up your dress. You fumbled with his belt, the metal clinking together loudly as you tugged it off of him and tossed it aside before eagerly unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down. Theo quickly moved your panties to the side, lining himself up and meeting your gaze for consent with hooded eyes before filling you up entirely.

He immediately set a ruthless pace, staring into your eyes as he groaned and grabbed at your neck, “If your eyes leave mine you don’t get to come until I say so, understand?”

Your thoughts jumbled together as Theo hit your g-spot over and over, working overtime just to form the word “yes” while Theo picked up his pace. He kept one hand gripping your neck tightly as the other held onto your hip with a brutal grip. “You’re mine Baby, I don’t fucking care who knows anymore. You are mine.” He growled, mostly speaking to himself as he lost himself in your soft walls.

You moaned up at him as you dragged your nails down his toned back pulling a groan from him before wrapping your legs entirely around him and trapping him between them. Theo began speaking Italian down to you, still fucking into you while watching your face intently, you couldn’t understand a single thing he was saying making you glow bright red as he chuckled down to you.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous.” He muttered as his hips smacked against yours repeatedly, filling the room with the obscene combination of the smack of skin mixing with your moans and the creak of the bed drowning out his whispers of praise. “You feel so fucking good baby, I’m gonna fucking cum. Can I fill you up Baby?”

You moaned his named loudly as he tugged you closer to him by your neck, stealing your breath as you desperately mumbled a yes into his mouth. His hips snapped into yours faster as his hand fell between your legs, fingers finding your clit immediately to pull out your orgasm. You clenched around Theo as he hissed and sped of his thrusts, driving into you harder as he stuttered and moaned loudly. Your name repeatedly falling from his lips as he came deep inside of you pushing you over the edge, you clamped around him while your legs shook and your head became cloudy only being able to think of Theo as he fell on top of you completely.

Theo slowly pushed himself up further to look down at you, your face, neck, and shoulders smeared with his face paint and red lipstick just as his was, your hair a mess on his pillows, your eyes teary and staring up at him. He swore he’d never seen anything so perfectly ruined in his life.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Draco stood in the doorway, sighing into his hand after taking in the scene in front of him. His best friend had his sister in their dorm, that they shared. “Eh put a fucking sock on the door next time or something.”

Theo turned quickly as the door slammed shut before he could glimpse his friend, “Does that mean he’s not gonna hex me?” Theo asked, eyes fixed on the cloak swinging back and forth on it’s hook on the door.

~~~~

-HP Taglist-

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[viennakarma]

In my life (I love you more)

Part 2 of Say Something (Alternate ending)

Summary: Navigating pregnancy is an adventure on its own, but doing it with your recently divorced ex-husband is on a whole new level. But maybe it's the perfect opportunity to find your kinship once again.

Word count: 8.3k

Tags: Female reader, established relationship, ex-wife reader, reader is an architect, cheating, smut, pregnancy symptoms, pregnancy sex, fingering and oral sex, lactation kink (briefly), chilbirth (not descriptive), lots of fluff, open ending, happy ending, not beta read

Relationships: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Notes: Again, sorry if it's rushed or something, I was just going with the flow. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

It’s different getting settled on your new, divorced life, and with a baby on the way. You kept trying to establish a new routine in your new place, while going over and over on what to do in your head.

You knew you were keeping the baby, because that’s something you always wanted. And for a few weeks, you weren’t sure if you would tell Lewis.

Then, you started thinking about going through the pregnancy alone, which you knew you couldn’t do. Then you thought if, god forbid, something happened to you during childbirth, if you died, who would take care of your child? What would happen to your baby? But also, you got lost in thoughts about the future, about the kid not having a father growing up, about your kid finding out you had hidden them from their father. You wasted only a couple of weeks until you made up your mind.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night keeping something like this from your ex-husband.

That’s how you were a little over twelve weeks when you finally sent Lewis an email. You could’ve called or texted him, but you were only willing to talk in person.

I’m not sure if you’re interested in hearing anything from me now, but I urge you to come meet me this Saturday at 11 am. I have some important things to talk about with you.

Attached, you sent him the address of your new home. It was a complete shot in the dark, adding the fact that he never replied to your email, you were unsure if he was gonna show up.

Hugging yourself inside your winter coat, you wondered if you did right by inviting him to your home. But then again, you didn’t want to have this conversation in public and risk Lewis being recognised.

You made tea and were waiting outside on the porch when he finally showed up, right on time.

God, he was easily the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, still. He was dressed in a dark blue coat, and simple cargo pants. He stopped when he saw you, visibly emotional.

“Hi, lo- Y/N” he almost slipped up.

“Hi, Lewis. I’m glad you came,” you whispered with a small smile.

You were just as stunning as the day Lewis saw you for the first time, beautiful skin, sweet smile and the kindest eyes.

“What happened? Do you need help?” He asked, and you just shook your head, with a small smile, and he added “you look so content. So different from the last time I saw you.”

“I am, Lewis. Still adapting but I really am,” you gestured for the house, you started walking, “come on in. It’s cold outside.”

You two entered, and removed your shoes by the door, getting comfortable.

“I need to tell you something, Lewis.”

“Is it about the divorce? You know I would come back to you whenever, you just need to say the word and I ca-”

As he started rambling, you just removed your coat, showing your little baby bump, now starting to show. Lewis stopped talking abruptly. He was shocked, jaw slack as he stared from your face to your belly a couple of times.

“I’m dreaming,” he turned around, slapping his own cheek as if to wake up.

“I’m pregnant, Lewis.”

Lewis turned around again, taking in your figure. You were wearing those elegant pajama sets you’d always wear whenever you wanted to feel comfortable at home, but the shirt was hugging your figure tightly, specifically around your middle, displaying the baby bump.

He felt a lump on his throat. He had dreamt of this throughout your relationship, but even more after he lost you. Lewis would dream of you and your family almost everyday, waking up crying over what his mistake cost him.

But now, now you were right in front of him, pregnant with his kid.

You mistook his silence for confusion, so with a heavy heart, you said:

“The baby is yours, but I don’t mind if you want to take a paternity test. I know it’s been a few months with no contact, so I understand if you have doubts ab-”

“No, no! I believe you- I do!” He interrupted your turn to ramble, “I guess I’m just a little bit shocked.”

There’s a brief, awkward silence as you two stood there. Lewis was staring at you so intently, so in awe that it made you squirm, so you walked further inside, going to the kitchen to leave your cup of tea, now empty by the sink. Lewis still walked after you, still looking at you like you had hung the moon or something.

“You’re stunning, Y/N. Just how I imagined you would be when pregnant.” He whispered. You felt yourself blush with the open compliment.

“Thank you, the morning sickness is dying down now, so I’m feeling much better these past few days.” You told him.

Someone rang the doorbell, and you went to check followed by Lewis. You opened the door to your new neighbor from down the road. He greeted you quickly, and handed you a small box full of cherry-tomatoes.

“Oh, thank you so much, James! You’re a lifesaver!” You waved at him, as he got in his car and drove away.

Happily skipping back to the kitchen, you washed and put the cherry-tomatoes on a plate, seasoning it with a little bit of salt and pepper. You ate the cherry-tomatoes raw, only after the second bite, noticing Lewis was still there, even more confused.

“Who’s that guy?” Lewis pointed to the door. He didn’t like the idea of other men coming to visit you. Especially that James guy who looked at you as if you were the most beautiful goddess to grace the earth. Well, you were the most beautiful goddess, but still, only Lewis looked at you like that.

“He’s my neighbor down the road, a couple of kilometers down. Him and his mom have a small plantation of fruits and vegetables. I told her I was craving cherry-tomatoes and she kindly sent them to me,” you said, taking another bite right after, “this is the best I’ve ever had. So fresh!” You exclaimed, eating a couple more.

Lewis looked at you, giddy with your little cherry-tomatoes, and he felt something in his chest expand. He smiled at you, looking so happy and healthy. The last two images he had of you were, you miserable around the house in Monaco, and the other was of you making love with him so passionately but so sad. The last time he touched you intimately, and lovingly, it was painfully obvious it was a goodbye to you, but to him it had been a chance, he had let himself be blinded by hope.

He had so many questions about the pregnancy, about how you had been feeling and what you wanted to do that he couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. Still, he took a deep breath and just said:

“Have you been having lots of weird cravings?” He asked, staring at you, still munching on the cherry-tomatoes.

“I’ve been craving fruits a lot this past week, the other day I wanted green mango with salt, but it’s so hard to find tropical fruits around here!”

Lewis grabbed his phone and texted Kevin, one of his assistants, telling him to find fresh mangoes anywhere as fast as possible.

“How are you? How are you feeling?” He put the phone away, eyes focused on yours.

“In regards to health, me and Peanut are completely fine. I’ve been really sleepy, taking naps all the time…”

“Peanut?” He smiled, eyes shining to the little nickname.

“So, the first craving I had was so bad I spent three days eating anything with peanuts. People have some really creative recipes on the internet.” Your words made Lewis laugh out loud, that one giggle that you had not heard in months. One laugh that used to make you so happy, “but really, we're fine. I’ve had some doctor visits now.”

“That’s good. I told my family about our divorce. Mum tore me a new one.” He gave an awkward smile.

“I know, she called me to apologize.” You let him know. You were still in touch with his mom, not having the heart to cut her off.

“Hey,” Lewis leaned in, his expression serious again, “I know I failed you in our marriage. But I won’t fail you in this pregnancy, ok? I want to be there every step of the way, if you allow me to.”

“I know, Lewis. I never doubted you would,” you sighed, pushing the plate away. You always knew Lewis would want to be there for you and his kid, “I just- I’m sorry it took me a while to reach you. I was confused and overwhelmed, heartbroken, everything at once, and I had to comprehend what I wanted to do. In the end, I couldn’t allow my baby to grow up without a father, and I know you will be a loving one.”

“Thank you, I hurt you so deeply, just- Thank you for letting me know about Peanut.”

“I know it will be difficult to get over our problems and the divorce, but I was hoping we could co-parent, as friends,” you told him.

“Whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I’m aware that's not how we planned things to go…” your eyes were wet with unshed tears, sometimes you still mourned the future you had with Lewis before, “... But we can do it, right?”

“We can do it. Peanut will be so happy.”

He was so sure, so confident, that it gave you a weird sense of security, knowing he will be there no matter what, knowing Peanut would have a loving father. It was a huge weight lifted from your shoulders, and now you could just focus on trying to go through a safe pregnancy.

“Tell me about your routine, how are you adapting here?” Lewis stood up, looking around.

You told him how you had reduced your work hours, to only work during the mornings, usually finishing up around noon, then you had lunch, then if you had any errands to run, you’d go to the city, then prenatal yoga class, and doing your hobbies the rest of the day.

While you were explaining your routine, you went to the pantry and got cat food out, your new companion showing up, meowing.

“You got a kitten.” Lewis pointed out.

“That’s Olive. I’ve always wanted one,” you said as if he didn’t know it, your fingers scratching behind her ears. Your voice didn’t have any malice, but Lewis’ own blame made your words feel like a jab.

“I know.”

Lewis stared at the fluffy gray cat. You had always talked about how growing up you had a cat that passed away when you were around fifteen. You had mentioned adopting a new one a lot after you got married, and still, Lewis never felt inclined to support the idea, he thought you two already had Roscoe, who you had to leave with a caretaker most of the time. He just thought you two wouldn’t have the time for another pet. It made something inside him burn with shame seeing that now that you were divorced, you finally got the little pet you always wanted.

You kept talking, telling Lewis how your parents are constantly traveling here to keep you company on weekends, and how you had been changing a few furniture, because you bought the house already furnished, but you wanted it to feel more like you, including a flowerbed by your porch. How you met a couple of neighbors, and how you had been exploring Edinburgh’s museums and galleries at least once a week.

It hurt him hearing about how you were moving on, meeting people and places, buying things and making plans when he was still stuck in the past. He was still wishing every morning he would wake up in your arms again, how he would share one big cup of coffee with you in the mornings, how he used to hold you in silence for a good 20 minutes after you woke up because you don’t like talking as soon as you wake up. How you would peck his lips every time he had to pack a bag to leave. How he would kiss your ring finger every time before he hopped in the car for a race.

Now he would walk past your office, and your work supplies weren’t there anymore, and the furniture didn’t have charcoal stains anymore, and the house didn’t smell like your tea and the bedsheets didn’t smell like your strawberry body scrub and shower gel thing.

Lewis spent the day with you, chatting like you were just two friends catching up. There was still a lot of baggage none of you wanted to touch just yet, so you just brushed past any awkward silence, and distant, cold chatter. It took a couple of hours to feel fully comfortable with each other. You had seen Lewis as the love of your life for so long it was mind boggling now having to put him in a “friend” category.

He left by the end of the afternoon, after leaving dinner ready for you.

“Will you unblock me?” He asked, getting ready to leave. You laughed but nodded, “You can text me anything. If you need something, anything really, call me or text me, yes?”

“Will do, Lewis. I’ll text any pregnancy updates too,” you walked him to the door, “Oh, wait! I forgot something.”

You went back inside scrambling into your purse for the sonogram image you had gotten the last doctor visit. You went back and handed it to Lewis. His eyes shone with tears as he understood what it was. He ran his thumb through the picture, tears falling down his cheeks. 

“Oh, wow. That’s my baby.”

You noticed how Lewis was still wearing his wedding band, and your chest constricted a bit. You knew more than anyone that it would take some getting used to remove the ring as you were still getting used to not wearing yours, but you had forced yourself to leave it behind. You wondered if Lewis had gotten rid of it after the divorce was finalized.

“Can I- Can I tell my family about the baby?” He asked you, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

“Yes. Tell Carmen to call me after you tell her.” You smiled softly at him.

He stared from the picture to your belly, your small bump.

“Wanna touch?” You offered, and he smiled.

“Only if you’re ok with it,” he muttered. You nodded, raising your shirt up.

You pulled his wrist, placing his palm against your stomach. His hand was warm, calloused as you were used to feeling them on your body. His thumb moved up and down, caressing your bump and raising goosebumps in your skin. It took him a full minute to let go, like it was physically painful to leave.

“Take care, yeah?” He told you, walking away.

“You too.”

You went back inside after locking the house, the sun was already setting as you sat down to eat the dinner Lewis prepared. He had promised you to come back in a couple of days after his work commitments.

The next morning, you were working when the doorbell rang, and it was a delivery guy. He handed you a box and left. You opened it on the kitchen counter, and it was full of fresh mangoes and a small note.

“Anything you need. -L”

Lewis came back three days later, letting you know when he was at the airport. You knew he had told his family, since Carmen had called you and you spent a good hour talking to her on the phone the night before. You heard a noise outside and you went to your porch to see Lewis arriving in a pick-up truck. 

You walked up to Lewis with a small smile. He closed his fists, physically restraining himself as to not hold your pretty face and kiss you silly.

“Hi,” you said and your voice was sweet.

“Hi, beautiful mama,” he whispered, which made you blush. You eye the back of the truck.

“What is that?”

“I bought some stuff,” he patted one of the boxes, “this is an ergonomic chair, appropriate for pregnant women, I thought it would be useful since you’ll still be working for a while. And they had it in your favorite color too!”

“Lewis.”

“I also bought a few books on pregnancy, maternity and paternity. Already sent a few copies to my place too. There’s a bunch of baby clothes over there, a few are gifts from my family but most of them I just bought because I thought they were pretty cute.” He pointed to the other boxes.

“Lewis, it’s too much!” You wanted to reprimand him, but it was also sweet how dedicated he was being.

“Nothing is too much for Peanut and Mama,” he dismissed you, “and I didn’t even buy a lot of stuff because I thought we should do it together.”

He carried the boxes inside, while you got started on the meal for lunch.

“Why is this ladder here?” Lewis pointed to the folded ladder in the hallway.

“Oh, I was going to change the light!” You told him.

“Are you crazy, woman?! You can be doing all that while pregnant!” His voice echoed from the hallway.

“I’m pregnant, not ill!” You screamed back, and he laughed out loud.

There was only silence for a few minutes, so you checked the hallway to see Lewis changing the lights. As he came down the ladder, he put both hands on his waist.

“Anything else needs fixing?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know how to fix the door handle, would you?”

“Please, how would you doubt me?”

After Lewis fixed the bathroom door handle, he came back out and started helping you with the food. You ate while Lewis told you about his family’s reaction to the news. He guaranteed everyone was happy, but they were refraining to call and text you so as to not overwhelm you.

While you were on the phone with your mom, Lewis decided to unbox the new chair and take it to your new office. He looked around, seeing how this office was smaller than the one at home, but cozier. You had a big window with lots of natural light bathing the room. Whenever you were working on your projects on paper and charcoal, you liked using natural light to draw. There were a couple of scented candles around too. 

He took a little while to fully assemble the new chair, but as he came back down, you were taking a nap on the couch. He grabbed the blanket and covered you, and went back to put the dishes away. It was different, he hadn’t been so domestic in so long, and certainly not when you were married. Now he was just happy to be of service, to help you around just like things had never changed. He noticed you had put a panel on the kitchen, just like in the project for your family home, and your planner was there. It showed you had a doctor visit by the end of the week and pregnancy yoga twice a week in the afternoons, it also had your next museum visit marked for after the doctor. He took a picture of your planner, to align his to yours.

“Y/N, hey,” he woke you up softly, confused, you stared at him, “you have yoga class in like an hour, will you go today? I can drive you to the city.”

“Yes, sure.” You got ready and Lewis drove you there right on time.

“I’ll just drive around for a bit, text me when the class is over,” he said as he dropped you by the gym’s door. He ended up going shopping for baby stuff, and had at least seven shopping bags by the time he went back to pick you up. He stopped the car by the entryway of the gym, where a man had been excitedly talking to you. Lewis made a face, it seemed like everywhere he went, there was someone into you. Of course, you were radiating this glow and charm of a pregnant woman, seducing everyone around.

Impatient, Lewis honked softly to catch your attention. He bit his tongue as you said goodbye to the man, who hugged you way too tight for Lewis’ taste. You were happy and Lewis hated that you were giving that rando your sweet smile and attention. He didn’t say anything as you got closer and he left the car to open the door for you, instead, he showed you all the stuff he had bought you and the baby.

When the end of the week came, Lewis also came back as you were leaving for your doctor’s appointment. You had invited him but he also had taken a picture of your schedule.

At the doctor’s you laid on the bed and the doctor started the ultrasound, Lewis gripped your hand firmly, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“See, here, this is your baby,” she pointed at the little gray mass on the screen, she gestured to the nurse, “and this is their heartbeat.”

The sound filled the room, and Lewis felt like his world stopped and reset, a warm sensation in his chest, finding what felt like something to live and something to die for. He listened while you asked the doctor for updates, but his eyes never left the screen, where he could see Peanut.

As you left the room, with your next appointment scheduled, Lewis stopped you in the parking lot, pulled you to his chest, holding you firmly and breathing into you. He was crying, you held him and that moment, something started to heal inside you. Maybe you’d never get your husband back, but you could count on him as a friend, as the father of your kid.

“Everything’s gonna be alright, Lewis. We’re gonna do great for Peanut.” You whispered into his shoulder.

-

You and Lewis managed to get a routine, he was coming back frequently, he claimed your guest room and was staying for two or three days at a time, only leaving for his commitments. Both of you already did therapy separately but you also decided to go a few sessions with a family therapist to try and navigate the new family dynamics as divorced parents to an unborn baby. You talked about the cheating a lot, which brought big emotions during most of the sessions, with the therapist mediating until you could talk again. Lewis for the most part accepted taking you anger and sadness and hurt, apologizing profusely over and over again, reassuring you that he made a mistake he regretted every breathing moment. It took a while to make peace with the fact that his mistake shouldn’t define him forever, to accept and give him the opportunity to grow and learn for the sake of your baby.

“The season will start soon,” he told you one day, late at night as you ate quietly. You only hummed a response, unsure of what he wanted you to say or what point he was trying to make.

“Ok, understood,” you muttered, knowing he probably was letting you know he wasn’t going to come visit you as much, which honestly made you a bit sad, kinda used to his company by now.

“What I mean to ask is, can I move here? I know I won’t have much free time, so instead of going back to Monaco, I was wondering if I could come straight here. Of course, I would need to bring a few things, training gear, stuff from my office,” When you didn’t answer him, jaw slacked, he thought you might not like the idea, “But it’s ok if you rather not, too. I mean, if you prefer your privacy and all- I totally respect-”

“It’s ok, Lewis, you can move here for the remainder of the pregnancy,” you calmed his rambling, and he smiled seemingly relieved.

“Thank you, I don’t want to miss anything,” He whispered, crouching down by your side, putting his hand on your belly, “right, Peanut? Daddy’s gonna be right here.”

The next morning, you woke up, the breakfast was ready, and you looked around for Lewis, until you found him outside. He was wearing gardening gloves, making a hole on the ground with a trowel, and behind him a wheelbarrow loaded with flower pots. He was also shirtless, sweat glistening on his skin and above his tattoos, back muscles prominent with every move, which had your pregnancy hormones feeling some kind of way.

“Morning, what is going on?” You asked, hugging yourself as you approached him.

“Well, you said you wanted a flower bed on the entryway. So I had the time and thought I would do it for you.” He shrugged, removing the gloves.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you.”

As he stood up and when he turned to you, your eyes fell on his necklace, and more specifically, your wedding band hanging from the necklace like a pendant. You had wondered if he had gotten rid of your wedding ring, but now you knew where it was. Lewis swallowed like he was self conscious, putting his hand over the ring. It was so different whenever you thought about the cheating and the divorce, about the new normal you had to get used to. You weren’t angry at him anymore, but it would require a lot to rebuild the trust you once had in him. You decided to not address the elephant in the room, so you just looked away.

“I’m going to eat, thank you for breakfast, also.”

He only nodded as you got inside, swallowing the lump in your throat with a glass of juice and slices of bread. You didn’t mention the ring, but you could notice he kept wearing the ring under his shirts.

You went back to watch his races, commenting about it with Olive and Peanut, cheering when he was going well and complaining when he wasn’t. You’d hug him whenever he came back, for emotional support, you’d tell yourself.

You two decided you wouldn’t find out if Peanut was a boy or a girl, leaving the mystery to whenever they were born. And as the pregnancy progressed, it was inevitable that you and Lewis got closer, almost like best friends as he had seen your many lows of the pregnancy. That one time you craved cauliflower with barbecue sauce, or when you ate corn with sprinkled smashed cheetos on top, or when you farted loudly. He also had seen you cry because the delivery guy didn’t wave back to you as he was leaving, or when Olive hunted a small gecko and gave you as a present and you started just bawling. Or when Lewis hummed a song by a rapper you disliked and you started going off, snappy.

Honestly, Lewis took your mood swings and weird cravings like a champ with the patience of a saint. He had read about how pregnancy could cause your emotions to be all over the place, with outbursts of sadness or anger, and according to what he read, he just needed to help you let it all out. He had studied hard about pregnancy and was always willing to help. Funnily enough, you saw him more that season than all the five seasons you witnessed when you dated and was married to him.

One night you went to bed early, and when he went to your bedroom to check on you, you were moving a little, grunting in your sleep. Lewis immediately went closer, shaking your shoulders to wake you up from your nightmare.

“Hey, hey,” he called and you opened your eyes wide and you looked a little winded, “had a bad dream?”

Your eyes started tearing up, and he sat by your side, putting an arm over your shoulder for comfort. He ran a hand up and down your back as you wiped your tears. 

“Are you ok?”

“It wasn’t a bad dream!” You whined like a little kid about to throw a tantrum.

“Ok, you want to talk about it? Maybe I can run you a bath?” He offered.

“It was a sex dream!”

Your words caught him a little off guard.

“I’m sorry?” He tried to understand what he should do or say.

“Goddamn pregnancy! I’m horny all the time now, but I can’t cum with my fingers! And I bought a bunch of toys but the delivery had messed it up and it never arrived!” You cried even louder now, and Lewis had to bite his tongue so as to not laugh and cause more anger.

“I could help you with that,” he offered, softly. He was actually scared you’d punch him in the nose for offering.

Instead you just stood up huffing and puffing, and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

“Sorry!” He shouted, standing by the door. Then a minute later you opened the door again, poking your head out.

“Will you help me?” You pouted.

“Of course, baby,” he walked inside, and you stood there wearing only a t-shirt and panties, “do you have something in mind or do you want me to freestyle?”

“Freestyle. Fuck, I just need to cum.”

Lewis sat by the closed toilet and patted his lap. You walked over to him, letting him position you sideways on his lap. God, you were so frustrated, and so horny your panties were shamelessly wet from the dream. He cupped you, running his middle finger up and down between your legs.

“Lewis, fuck,” you moaned, hyper sensitive, but still not enough, “if you’re going to tease me, I better finish the job myself.”

“Calm down, woman! I was just creating the buildup!”

“I’ve been building up for the past three weeks, Lewis. I need the finishing!” You whined and Lewis chuckled, pushing your panties down until they hung from your foot.

A loud moan escaped your lips as he ran his finger over your cunt, spreading out your wetness and when the pad of his finger found your clit, your hips jerked. You nuzzled into his neck inhaling his perfume and laying your weight on him, letting him do his thing. You had been feeling so sensitive because of the pregnancy, every single touch made your body jolt, curling your stomach already so close.

“More, Lewis, please,” you moaned into his skin, and he only hummed, pressing a finger inside you. His other arm was around you, holding you firmly against his chest.

“Like that, baby? That’s how you want it?” He asked, egging you on, going harder.

You could only moan as he took his time pressing into you, curling his finger and finding your most pleasurable spot.

“Oh, Lewis, fuck-” you moaned all the way up to your orgasm that had your toes curling and eyes rolling back. It took all his restraint to not eat your moans with a sloppy kiss.

Lewis slowed down, but he didn’t stop fingering you, and when you almost felt like it was too much, he kept going, cooing you.

“That’s ok, baby. Give me one more, yeah?” As you whined, pushing his hand away, he gave you a couple of seconds and went back, “you can take it, love. Gonna sleep so well after. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

He practically pushed you into the second orgasm, shaking, hand pressing your nails into his skin and you bit into his neck to muffle your moans.

Breathless, you just melted into him, sleepy again after cumming so good. Lewis cleaned you and carried you back to bed, letting you fall into slumber.

Raging hard, he ended up in the bathroom of the guest room, fisting his own length thinking of your moans and your teeth on his neck, that’s how he finished under the running shower.

The next morning, he smirked as you walked inside the kitchen, his winning smile hidden behind a mug.

“Shut up, Lewis, or I swear I’m gonna cut your dick off!” You warned. He held back a laugh.

“I didn’t say anything!” He raised both hands in surrender.

“Yeah, but you thought.”

“Look, whenever you need release, I’m right here for you to use me any way you want.” He smiled slyly.

“SHUT UP!” You threw a grape at him, which he caught in the air and ate. “I won’t be needing your services anymore, but thank you.” You whispered begrudgingly.

“If you say so…” He shrugged.

But that same night you ended up laid on the table, your dress hunched around your waist as Lewis ate you out like a man starved for the better part of an hour. You came loudly, grinding your hips to his face, pulling on his braids as he pulled orgasm after orgasm. Until you were limp and sleepy, and he cleaned you up and took you to bed.

It kept happening, but you never kissed or fucked, he would just relieve your tension with hand and mouth, and the few times you tried to reciprocate, he denied and said you were pregnant and needed the stress relief. You’d usually go to sleep right after he pleasured you.

After he left for a race week, you received a medium box full of sex toys, ranging from vibrators to suckers and dildos. He left a note saying it was for whenever he wasn’t there to fulfill your needs.

One morning, you were working, finishing up the last of your projects before going on maternity leave, when you felt a little poke on your belly, from inside. You squealed, and in mere seconds, Lewis was speeding up the stairs and barging into your office.

“What happened? Are you ok? Do we need to go to the hospital?” He panted, getting close to you. You just held his wrist and pressed his palm against your bump, where you had felt the thing.

“I think Peanut just kicked!”

You two stayed silent as you waited, and then you felt it just as Lewis felt on his hand. You cried, Lewis cried, and then he crouched, pressing his face to your belly, feeling a little kick on the side of his face. He laughed between tears.

“Peanut, daddy’s right here! You’re going to be so strong, baby!”

As your bump got bigger, and the pains got a little bit worse, you tried new sleep positions because of the back pains. Your feet swelled and your boobs and nipples got a bit more sensitive, so you had to change bras. Lewis was such a great help throughout the gestation, that you’d  always remember him as a great source of strength. Sometime after you were seven months along during Summer Break, Lewis ended up taking you to a spa resort one week, somewhere in Greece, where you had one of the best times ever. You got massages, went into the hot tub, swam in the pools and went to the beach.

One random day back home, you were feeling particularly bothered by the backache, laying down in different positions and walking around with a muscle pain tape glued to your spine. Whenever you felt like that, your mood got irritable due to the pain.

“I saw something on the internet, I think we could try,” Lewis suggested.

“What?”

“Just trust me, yeah?” He asked and you nodded.

He stood right behind you, his chest pressed to your back, and his arms circled your waist, both hands settling under the bump. Then he just pushed up softly, taking the weight of the baby. You moaned feeling instant relief on your back, your head falling down on Lewis’ shoulder as you breathed deep.

“It’s ok, take your time,” he murmured close to your ear, “we should do this a few times a day to ease the pain.”

Eventually you two sat down to discuss baby names, and decided on each making a list and then comparing if you had put the same names. The boy names list ended up with three names matching and the girls’ list had only one match. You came around with choices for both, but ultimately decided to leave the decision for after Peanut was born.

When your birthday came in late July, Lewis took you to another trip, for a surprise.

“Where are we?” You asked as he blindfolded you on your way out of the private jet.

“We’re in London.”

“Oh, I love London!” You whispered excitedly, getting inside a car.

“I know you do.”

It took a few minutes, but eventually, he took you out of the car and walked you a few steps. Then, he removed your blindfold, and you stared at a big house. Not any house, but the home you had designed, your family home. The one you would give him on his birthday, but he saw when you were at the low ending of your marriage.

And it was just like the project, the same materials, the same colors, the same height and size. With all the little details you had poured your heart into.

“Happy birthday, this is yours.” Lewis whispered, handing you a key set.

“Lewis? What?” You turned to him, feeling your eyes watering.

“I know that we divorced, and things are different now… But I think it’s only fair that you get to raise Peanut in the home we dreamed of,” he said and you just nodded, the tears falling down, “and I hope you save me a guest room, for when I want to spend time with Peanut and Mama, if you allow.”

It was time you admitted that you and Lewis had grown so much closer than you ever did while married. It was good and most of the time you’d say it was everything for the sake of Peanut, but you knew better. You could silently admit to yourself that Lewis was an indispensable presence in your life. You needed his steadfast support that you been getting throughout the pregnancy, you needed his company in the mornings and his laughter in the evenings, you needed the feel of his hands on you be it for comfort or for intimacy.

And you fucking loved him.

It was like you’ve never stopped, even through the pain and the divorce, like your heart had always been in the palm of his hands.

But the pregnancy was like falling in love all over again.

You turned around and pulled Lewis by the coat, pressing your lips into his. It felt so right, like you should’ve never stopped. Lewis held your neck, pressing you into him.

“Lewis…”

“We can talk about it, yeah? Take as slow or as fast as you want. I just-” he paused, pecking your lips twice like he couldn’t get enough, “-I love you, my baby. And we can do whatever you want.”

“Let’s just, let’s take it slow first, yeah? See what- see what happens.”

He nodded, kissing you once again before taking you for a tour of the house. It was just as beautiful as you had imagined. The house was already baby proofed, and it had electricity and water already running.

“You can move here whenever you feel like it.”

“Yeah, I think I will soon rather than later. But I’ll keep my place in Edinburgh too.”

When the due date came, you had already moved to the new home, and it was so much closer to your parents and Lewis’ parents to visit, so Carmen was coming to see you a couple of times a week. She usually cooked for you, leaving meal preps for the days she couldn’t come.

To keep everything on the low with the media, you and Lewis decided against a baby shower. No one knew about the divorce, nor the baby.

“Lewis, it’s time to pack your bags,” you said walking into the room.

You were honestly so fed up with being pregnant that you just wanted to give birth. Your body was uncomfortable, you couldn’t sleep right in any position, your breasts were so full that it was leaking all the time and the bump got in the way of pretty much anything.

“I don’t need to,” he said, sleepily turning off the alarm.

“Lewis, you’re going to miss the flight!”

It was race week, which meant he would leave and only come back Monday. Hopefully, Peanut will be born next week. You were already a little over 39 weeks so you’d give birth pretty much any minute now.

“I’m not racing this week,” he said simply.

“You what?! You can’t do that! You need the points!” You exclaimed, pacing around.

“Love, Peanut will come any moment now, I won’t be away and risk missing this.” Lewis stood up, holding your shoulders and standing behind you. He held your bump and lifted it just like he had been doing, which helped you feel immense relief.

“Lewis, I can’t believe this! You’re literally competing for the championship! You can’t afford to lose any points.”

“I won’t be able to get in the car and drive knowing you’re here mostly alone or maybe that you’re going through labor alone. This is not up for discussion, I have spoken to Toto and everything is already set.”

You wanted to cry. You had not told him about how you were worried he might miss the birth, but he must’ve picked up somehow. You two had been in an entirely new level of connection, Lewis attuned to your wants and needs without you needing to express.

You turned around, kissing him. He held you close, reciprocating as his hands explored your body. And with just a little make out you were lit up and horny again.

“Can we make love?” You asked him, between kisses.

“Are you sure?” He mumbled, nipping at your bottom lip.

“Please, I miss your cock,” you whined, pulling his shirt.

That did it for him. He undressed, and you eyed your wedding band on his necklace. You pulled your dress up and Lewis groaned as he saw you were wearing only a support bra underneath, no panties.

“We need to see what positions is more comfortable though, I-”

“Spooning, missionary or cowgirl” he kissed you again, taking your hand and leading you to the bed.

“How do you know?”

“I read a book.”

“A book about sex?” You giggled.

“A book about pregnancy sex.” He corrected which made you laugh even harder.

“Ok then, get in the bed. On your back,” you bossed him and he obeyed.

You didn’t take too much time to straddle him, his cock between your pussy lips as you ground up and down on him, leaning down to kiss him. You were dripping wet, finding comfort on the way his abdomen held most of the weight of the bump. You looked down to him, his lips were open and he helped you up until you had him lined up and into your cunt. Both of you moaned out loud. The first time for both since your goodbye before the divorce.

Lewis sat up and pawed at your boobs and you moaned with sensitivity. He tried to remove your bra, but you stopped him.

“It’s going to leak everywhere, Lewis.” You shook your head.

“What kind of husband do you take me for?” He asked as if you were being silly. He unclasped your bra and as soon as you were free, ready to complain, he mouthed your nipple, sucking hard. The relief of the milk coming out was so great it had you groaning.

“Oh, Jesus! Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you moaned out loud with the relief his sucking caused, so much that your cunt clenched with the pleasure, “that’s so good baby, fuck- you’re so good!”

You started moving your hips, the experience so otherworldly that you could only ride him, letting him suck at your tits as your mind exploded with mind blowing sex. You shook so hard through the orgasm that Lewis had to stop and hold you firmly, only moving his hips under you to cum hard to the feel of your cunt milking him.

He stared at you like you were the most beautiful woman on earth, with so much love and devotion that you couldn’t help but bash in it.

You fucked any given chance for the next few days, making up for lost time. Lewis’ favorite position was spooning while he fucked you from behind, holding your body flush against him, kissing your neck and shoulder.

Saturday evening, you started feeling pain, sometimes every few hours. Lewis wanted to go to the hospital immediately but you, having talked with your doctor, knew it was too soon, and you’d only wait for hours in a hospital room.

You slept on and off the entire night, the jolts of pain waking you up every couple of hours. In the morning, you and Lewis had breakfast and decided to watch the race to see how Mick was going to do. You didn’t make it past ten laps, when the water broke when you got up for snacks.

“Oh my god! Ok, now we’re going to the hospital, yeah?” He asked and you nodded, taking your phone to let your doctor know you were going to the hospital.

Lewis was a mess, running up and down the stairs to grab your hospital bag, then he forgot the car keys and went back up again.

“Ok, stay calm, we’re fine,” he said, helping you up.

“I’m calm, Lewis.”

“Yeah, I’m talking to myself.”

You laughed as you two got in the car and to the hospital. You still felt these jolts of pain, each contraction getting closer and closer from the one before. You were put in a bed to wait for the right moment for the baby to crown. Lewis never left your side, even to call his family and your parents to let them know, he stood by you.

When it was a little while before the time to labor, you couldn’t handle the pain anymore, opting for an epidural on the spot which made the pain bearable. Then finally came the time to push, and Lewis stayed there, holding your hand and whispering words of comfort when necessary, and words of strength when needed.

“You are doing great, love. Come on, on three you push with all you can yeah? Promise I’ll stay right here! Come on, no- no-” he held your face softly, “I know you’re tired but you can’t rest yet! Stay here, and we’re going to see Peanut soon! Come on, when the doctor calls three, you push!”

Your memory would be hazy but you’d never forget Lewis’ patience and strength dealing with you. His voice guiding you through every single hour, his eyes that were so kind and his hands on you.

“I can’t Lewis!” You cried, but he held your face, looking deep into your eyes.

“You can! You can because you’re the strongest person here! I love you so much. You can, I’m right here with you. One more push, Peanut is almost out.”

Then, there was the loud cry of the baby in the doctor's hands. Gasping, Lewis stared at the baby while the doctor cut the umbilical cord. You looked at Lewis, who was bawling, face sweaty but the complete adoration in his eyes said more than any words could ever.

“This is your baby girl, Mom and Dad!” The doctor handed you the baby curled on a blanket.

“Oh my god. Love, this is Luna, right?” Lewis leaned down, whispering and watching his baby’s face.

“Luna…” You whispered, looking at her perfect little face.

“Our Luna…” Lewis whispered.

-

You were making tea in the kitchen when you heard Luna starting to cry, progressively louder. You could hear Lewis trying to calm her down, and when you came back to the living room, he was softly nursing Luna, and she was still whining.

“Everything ok, Dada?” You asked him, saving him a mug with tea.

Chuckling, he held Luna against his naked chest, and she was getting calmer and calmer. You sat on the couch, watching them. But then Lewis started mumbling a song, softly like a lullaby, and after a few seconds he sang a bit louder so you could make up the lyrics.

But of all these friends and lovers

There is no one compares with you

And these memories lose their meaning

When I think of love as something new

Though I know I'll never lose affection

For people and things that went before

I know I'll often stop and think about them

In my life, I love you more

Funnily enough, Luna started to drift to sleep again, curled on her Dad’s chest. He put her on the little carrier, covering with the blanket then sat beside you, pulling you into his chest.

“Can you believe that? We made the most amazing bundle of love!” He said, kissing the top of your head, “Thank you so much for taking a chance on me, for letting me be part of this. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, honey.”

“I told you we were gonna make it.”

You felt like your heart was going to burst with so much love, for Lewis, for Luna and grateful for the second chance you took on this life and these dreams. You knew there was still a lot of work to put in, not only in raising your daughter but also in rebuilding your life with Lewis, but you were sure you'd have the rest of your lives to work on it.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton +18 #f1 smut #smut #Spotify

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Astarion and his s/o getting into a sass competition where Astarion ends up confessing to her by accident and now he's all flustered?

Astarion x Reader

“Can’t you go any faster?”

“I’m not exactly as well versed into taking these off as I am in putting them on, darling.” Astarion quipped at you as he fiddled with the lock on your cuffs.

Being somewhat of an anti-hero liaisons these days, the group had been pinched on some trumped up but completely true & legal charges of petty theft and larceny. Your options were fight, flight, or get arrested when confronted by the guards and charges. And since you couldn’t fight a whole city’s worth of Iron Fists, and running also seemed unplausible as you’d have to come back to the city sometime, you decided to take you lumps and went to jail. Luckily, where there’s a will there’s a way. Or in this case: a vampire with a lockpick up his sleeve.

“Why did you wait to do me last anyway? Just to see me suffer?”

“Well,” Astarion cooed, “it does have a certain visual appeal.”

You clicked your teeth and rolled your eyes. “Could you just hurry up? I’m starting to lose the feeling in my hands. All the blood is rushing out of them.”

“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want that.”

“Well, if you want my blood again, you should be more sympathetic to my pain.” You told him. Sighing heavily as one arm was free and Astarion moved on to the other one.

“Don’t you threaten me. Besides, if you won’t give me what I want, I’ll just move on to some other lucky companion in our camp.”

“Ha! Like anyone else would have you.”

Astarion frowned. “I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who would welcome my teeth at their necks. Hundreds. Thousands!”

“Yeah. One blood obsessed drow and…who was the other one you tricked again?” You pulled at the shackles, which jiggled the irons and knocked the lockpick free, but unbroken. The vampire growled at you.

“I tricked you easy enough, didn’t I?”

“Only because I took pity on you.”

“Pity?!”

“Yeah.” You told him. “That poor, sad, puppy dog ‘please feed me’ look was just something I couldn’t say no to.”

Astarion growled again. “That is not how it happened. Besides, if you didn’t like it you wouldn’t keep asking for more.”

“Oh sure. Blame the victim.”

“You are not a victim!” He snapped at you. He seemed a little wounded by that one. Maybe you went a little too far. “Gods.” He cursed under his breath with a frown. “You are lucky I love you so much, otherwise I would just leave you here, chained up, and never bite you again. No matter how much you begged me.”

The lock finally snapped open and your arm fell to the side. You lifted it to rub your wrist but were uncharacteristically silent.

“Would it have been too much to expect a thank you??”

“Did you just say you love me?”

Astarion froze for a moment. A little wide eyed at your question. He seemed to be racking his brain for a moment. Trying to remember the conversation before an ‘Oh. Shit.’ expression came over his face. “What? Oh, that. Figure of speech darling, of course.” He let out a single nervous cough after that and a rushed, “let’s go meet up with the other.” Before he turned on his heels and made a speedy exit.

You rub your wrist one more time as a soft, shy smile came to your lips behind his back. You follow after him and meet up with the others. Waiting just outside the prison for the two of you, as apparently just around the corner was enough of an escape from the mighty Iron Fist.

“Ah! I just love this fresh air.” You exclaim, followed by more comments on how dusty & dank your cell had been, but really just watching Astarion’s shoulders tense.

You spent the rest of the day subversively tormenting Astarion. Making comments on how much you loved the weather, or loved a dress in a window. How much you loved dinner that night. How much you loved getting a good night’s rest that night.

By the time everyone had gone off to their respective tents for the evening, Astarion had apparently had enough and slunk up to yours. “I know what you’re doing. Now stop it!” He hissed.

“But I thought you’d love it.”

“Stop it!” He hissed again. If he could right now, he would blush. You were tempted to let him feed on you for a moment to get the full effect. “I mean it! How would you like it if I threw every verbal misstep in your face? I don’t keep bringing up the time you said Ibis instead of Ignis, now do I??”

It was pretty funny when that bird showed up.

“So, are you upset that you said it and I’m teasing of you, or are you upset that you didn’t mean it and I keep bringing it up?” You honestly didn’t know which answer would be worse at this point. You felt bad you had wounded his pride to the point that he came to talk to you. But you also don’t think you could take it if he told you that he didn’t love you.

Astarion just stood there for a moment, thinking, before he sighed and waved you off. “Just…knock it off ok. I’ve had quite enough today. I’m going to get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turned to walk away and just before he fell out of ear shot you called to him. “Hey Astarion,” he looked back over his shoulder at you, “I love that you could come and talk to me about this.”

He huffed, but you could see the corners of his mouth struggling to keep down. “Oh shut up.”

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers) #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #tav #baldur's gate #baldurs gate imagine #baldurs gate scenarios #bg3 imagine #bg3 scenarios

[slut4thebroken]

Practice Makes Perfect

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | stepdad!Jackson Rippner x reader

Summary | You go to your stepdad for help… with very pure intentions… obviously. (Heheh)

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, innocence kink, corruption, large age gap, but not under age, hand jobs, oral both m and f receiving, spanking, daddy kink technically, also incest I guess?, groping, thigh riding, praise, a sprinkle of degradation and humiliation.

Words | 7.5 k

Notes | I hope it was worth the wait folks. Also ionno how I feel about this gif but whatever lol

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

You liked making men crave what they could never have, that’s why you dress the way you do. But it seemed like the one man you actually wanted to crave you, never did. Much to your disappointment. 

But you liked doing it in a subtle way, where at first glance, it wouldn’t seem like your goal was to get his attention. You’d wear loose, frilly skirts, always on the shorter side, but not short enough to be too obvious, and tight crop tops that were somewhat see-through. You also liked wearing pretty dresses and knee high socks and dainty jewelry and soft makeup. All of which at first glance would just seem like a cute, unintentionally sexy— yet still in an innocent way somehow— outfit. 

Nothing you ever did caught his eye though. Sometimes you’d forego the bra all together so that your nipples were just barely poking through the thin fabric of your top, but you still didn't get a reaction. So you decided to step it up. 

“Mr. Rippner?” You asked quietly, making him look up from the computer screen as you hesitantly walked in. 

“How many times have I told you to call me Jackson.” He said teasingly.  

“Sorry…” You couldn’t help the blush that painted your cheeks when he gave you a soft smile. 

“What's up?” 

“I can come back later if you’re busy…”

“Never too busy for you. Come sit.” He clicked a few buttons on the computer then gave you his full attention. You dragged one of the arm chairs a little closer to his desk, then sat down. 

“I just… had a question— questions. But I’m scared to ask my mom.” You said quietly, nervously playing with the fabric of your skirt. 

“Scared?” 

“I don’t want her to see me any differently… and I’m scared that asking this might do that.” 

“You can talk to me.” His tone was so genuine that it made you want to tell him anything and everything about yourself, even your deepest secrets. His warm smile wasn’t helping much either. 

“Thank you… So, um— there’s this guy that I like..” He just barely stiffened when you said that. “He’s older,”

“How much older?” 

“A little more than twenty years…” 

“He’s in his forties?” 

“Early fourties, yes.” You said quietly, not able to maintain eye contact any longer. You couldn’t figure out what emotion was on his face right now. “But I really really like him, Mr. Rippner, and he treats me right.” 

“Any man going after you who’s that old will not treat you right.” 

“Oh…” You kept your eyes on your lap as your chest ached. Even though this wasn’t a direct rejection it still hurt. “Sorry.” 

“Hey— no, I'm sorry.” His tone was noticeably softer. “I just worry about you, kiddo.” Your whole face heated up at the name, as it always does. “I'm sorry. If you still want to talk, I'm here for you.” 

“Thanks…” When he didn’t say anything, you took that as your cue to continue. “I- I’ve been having.. bad thoughts about him, Mr. Rippner. And I know that it’s wrong, but I just can’t help it. I don’t even really know what he’s making me feel, just that it makes me feel dirty…” His cheek tensed as he clenched his jaw.  

“Inappropriate thoughts, you mean?” He clarified and you nodded in response. “I see. And before I respond, what exactly is it that you’re asking me?” 

“I- I want to impress him… but I’ve never done.. anything. I’m scared I’ll make a fool of myself, so I was hoping… you could help me?”

“Help you?” He choked out. You nodded and bit your lip. “Let me just make sure I’m hearing this right. You want to fuck a man twice your age,” you blushed at his crude words, “but you’re nervous about it… so you’re asking your step father, who’s also twice your age, to help you practice so you feel more confident?” 

“I’m sorry, this was stupid.” You muttered as you got to your feet. 

“Sit down.” His voice was technically still soft, but you could hear the underlying sternness in his tone, so you lowered yourself back down in the chair. “Why me?” 

“I just… I trust you a lot, Mr. Rippner— more than most. I know you’d never do anything to take advantage of me.” You said, even though you hoped he would. 

“And what about your mom?” That made you frown. 

“I didn’t mean it in a cheating way. Just for you to show me what to do— to teach me. That’s not cheating.” 

“Sweetheart…” He started, making your frown deepen. “You understand why this would be wrong other than that, right?” 

“…No.” You did. 

“Not even talking about the fact that I'm twice your age— I’m your step father. This is not something that step fathers teach their step daughters.” He explained gently. 

“Oh.. I guess you don’t have to, then. I can just… ask him to teach me or something.” 

“Absolutely not.” He said sternly, startling you. “Telling him that will practically give him the green light to manipulate and coerce you.” 

“He wouldn’t do that.” You frowned. 

“Yes he would. Every man would.” 

“Clearly not every man.” You muttered. 

“Look,” he sighed, “I do want to help you, kiddo, but it’s more complicated than that.” 

“It doesn’t have to be..” 

“But it is.” 

“Are you not attracted to me?” You asked suddenly. “Is that why?” He sighed again and looked away from you, making your stomach churn. “Oh.” You felt like you were about to cry any minute now— this is not going how it was supposed to at all. You felt stupid and embarrassed and you wished you never came in here. 

“I…” he sighed, “It's not that. I shouldn’t be attracted to you, honey. It’s wrong.”

“…But you are?” He said ‘shouldn’t’ so maybe that’s a good sign. 

“It’s doesn’t matter if I am,” 

“I’m attracted to you, Mr. Rippner.” You said quietly, waiting nervously for his reaction. “It doesn’t feel wrong.” He let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes as his head tilted back a little. You watched him carefully, trying to figure out what he was thinking. When he suddenly leaned back up and opened his eyes, they were significantly darker, the pretty, pale blue almost gone now. “Mr. Rippner?” You asked when he didn’t say anything. 

“I’m not going to show you, but I’ll tell you. How does that sound?” You frowned and looked away. 

“Okay… If you think that’s best, I trust you.” You said, silently praying for him to do more than talk to you. 

“Let’s just start off with you telling me what you do know.” 

“Um… Well, I’ve seen people kiss.. and I’ve tried to practice, but it feels awkward and I don’t want it to be weird when it happens.” 

“You never kissed anyone?” His eyebrows were raised as he stared at you in poorly concealed surprise. 

“…No.” You said, voice small. 

“Okay,” he cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, “okay. What else?” 

“I mean… I think I mostly know how the rest of it goes? The part where.. I don’t really do much. It’s the other parts that I don’t know.” 

“You mean foreplay?” You nodded with a blush. “And you know how to practice safe sex, right?” 

“A condom?” 

“That’s the most common way, yes.” He leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy breath. “Okay. I think I can help you out with some of it, but the rest you might just need to practice on your own. 

“But I have!” Your blush deepened when you realized what you just implied. 

“You have?”

“I- I mean.. I just— It…” Nothing you could say would save you. 

“Dirty girl… Do you have a toy hidden somewhere?” He said teasingly and you didn’t know how to respond, not when the real answer is so much more embarrassing and perverted. 

“Something like that..” He examined you carefully, making you feel like he was uncovering every secret you've ever had. 

“Oh I see.” He chuckled. “Creative little minx, aren’t you? What’d you use?” You looked down and bit your lip, feeling far too embarrassed right now. “Hairbrush handle? Cucumber?” 

“Stop teasing me, Mr. Rippner.” You pouted and he gave you a small smile.

“I’ll stop teasing once you stop calling me that.” When your gaze stayed on your lap, he continued. “Where'd you use it? Your mouth or your cunt?” Your head snapped up with a gasp at his vulgar language. 

“Mr. Rippner!” You scolded him, but your cheeks were far too red to uphold the sternness of your reprimand.

“It’s just a simple question, kiddo. You’re going to have to get used to those words if you want my help. I can’t really explain it without saying it.” 

“I- I know. It just caught me off guard is all and um… mouth.” You muttered, not able to maintain eye contact. “But I couldn't do it, it was too hard.” 

“What’d you try to do, sweetheart?”

“I dunno… just— anything that I thought might be right. I didn’t really know what to do.” You looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Need someone to teach me…” 

“You know that I can’t.” He said softly. 

“But how else am I supposed to learn? Why can’t you just help me?” You pouted, making him sigh. 

“I am helping you.” 

“But….” You were going to beg again, but so far that’s gotten you nowhere, so you decided to try something else. “Fine— I’ll just find someone else!” You said, standing up and turning around to walk out. 

“Sit down. I won’t tell you again.” He said sternly, making you freeze, but not turn around yet. 

“Mr. Rippner…” You finally turned back to face him, but you couldn’t look at him, “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day,”

“You really don’t want me to tell you again.” He warned and for the first time, you felt a little afraid of him. It was flustered fear, but fear nonetheless. You slowly walked back over and sat down again. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to help you, but you’re not going to tell anyone. Especially your mother. Do you understand?” You couldn’t help the smile that creeped up on your face as you nodded. 

“Come here.” You got back up and walked around the desk, waiting awkwardly for the next instruction. “On your knees.” Your stomach fluttered and you could feel the ache between your legs that you usually get when you’re near him. Slowly lowering yourself to the ground, you placed your hands on your lap and looked up at him as he rolled his chair back and faced you. 

“Do whatever you think is right. I’ll stop you or tell you what to do if you need help.” Even though that made you nervous because there was a higher chance you’d embarrass yourself, you agreed. 

Shuffling forward, you settled between his legs and reached for his belt. The bulge in his pants was already making your mouth water and you pressed your thighs together without thinking. His breath hitched when you accidentally brushed his crotch, but he let you continue until his pants were open enough for you to pull them down a little and reach inside to take out his length. 

You gasped at the size of him and stared at it with wide eyes and slightly parted lips— how is this ever going to fit.. anywhere inside you when it barely fits in your hand? He brushed your hair out of your face and you swallowed thickly as you forced your eyes away from his length to look up at him. 

“Y-you’re… Are they all this big?” You asked nervously, making him chuckle quietly. 

“Not all, but I’m only a little above average.” 

“Oh.” So the average is only a little smaller? That didn’t ease your nerves at all. 

“Just take it slow, kiddo. Don’t rush into it, go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.” You were struggling to get yourself to follow the soft demand because of how badly you wanted to impress him. “Start with your hand.” You nodded and swallowed down the lump in your throat as you reached for his length. Tentatively grasping it in your hand, you stroked him slowly, looking up at him for confirmation. “A little harder, love.” You squeezed harder, but immediately pulled back when he winced. 

“I’m sorry,” 

“That’s okay. Here,” he took your hand in his and wrapped it around his cock, moving it slowly. “Like this, okay?” When you nodded, he let go for you to continue on your own. You noticed that his limited reactions seemed to mostly happen when you were at the tip, so you focused on that, rubbing your thumb over the bead of clear liquid on top, making him curse under his breath. 

“You know what that is?” He asked, almost breathlessly. 

“…Precum?” You were terrified of embarrassing yourself by saying the wrong thing, but you vaguely remembered learning that somewhere. 

“That’s right.. good girl. Have a taste.” With a blush from the praise, you tentatively brought your hand up and sucked your thumb into your mouth. “Do you like it?”

“I think so. It’s… watery but a little sweet almost?” He laughed quietly and you gave him a small smile. 

“Keep going.” You started stroking him again, keeping the pace a little slow as you got used to it. “Do you want to try using your mouth now?” You looked up at him nervously, but nodded anyway. “Okay, just suck on the tip while you keep stroking it.” You shuffled forward even closer and placed your free hand on his thigh to steady yourself as you leaned up a little. When you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, he let out a shaky breath and put his hand on top of yours on his thigh. 

“Suck it and flick your tongue over it,” you obeyed and he let out a low moan, “there you go… Keep using your hand.” You hadn’t even realized you stopped stroking him until he mentioned it. 

“Atta girl. You’re a natural, kiddo.” You couldn’t help the whimper that slipped out at the praise, even if he was just teasing you. You continued stroking his length while mouthing at the tip, not sure what to do next. Thankfully he seemed ready to help you with that. 

“You want to draw it out a little so how about you practice kissing, hm?” You perked up at the thought of finally being able to kiss him, but almost pouted when you realized he didn’t mean on his lips. You gave the tip and quick kiss, then looked up at him, asking a silent question of what to do. “Kiss all over it, sweetheart.” You obeyed, working your way down the underside of his cock. “Good girl. Keep going down.” You were quickly reaching the base and you looked up at him in confusion. 

“You didn’t think you were just going to suck my cock, did you?” He chuckled, making you frown. You did think that… What else would you suck? “Start with kissing and licking my balls.” That made you pull back as your eyes widened. 

“Your— But… Is that,” 

“You’re not going to impress any man with a mediocre blow job. I’m trying to help you, baby.” You didn’t know that was a thing you had to do… and for some reason it felt dirtier than everything you’ve done so far. He picked up on your apprehension and his teasing smirk dropped into a more serious expression. 

“Hey, we don’t have to.” He said softly, genuinely. “The second you change your mind, we’re done, no questions asked. I can make you some hot chocolate and put on that movie you like and we don’t have to mention this ever again.” 

“I…” You swallowed the lump in your throat as your gaze shifted between his eyes and his cock. “Can we still do all of that after we do this?” You asked timidly, making the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile as he reached out to pet your hair. 

“Of course we can, kiddo. I’m pretty much done with work for the day so I’m all yours until it’s your bedtime.” You flushed at the mention of the silly rule he was so adamant about implementing. You told him that you’re an adult and adults don’t have bedtimes and he said that he just wants what’s best for you and that getting a good night's sleep is one of the best things you could do to take care of yourself. You didn’t protest again after that— mostly just because you liked the idea of him having that power over you. 

“Since it’s Friday… could we maybe.. extend my bedtime?” You asked coyly, staring up at him with wide pleading eyes. He raised his brows as he looked down at you for a moment before letting out a breathy laugh and looking away. 

“You’re getting too spoiled. I might as well start calling you princess.” He said with a sly smile, making you blush. 

“If I’m your princess, does that make you my daddy?” You asked innocently, making his breath catch in his throat, but he recovered quickly and decided to tease you a little. 

“Now where did you learn something like that?” Your blush intensified and you couldn’t maintain eye contact any longer. 

“Heard some classmates talking about it…” 

“Aren’t you a nosy little thing? But no kiddo, that doesn’t make me your daddy. I’m still just plain old stepdad Jackson.” He said with a small shrug. 

“But… if I want you to be?” You asked nervously. He let out a heavy breath that turned into a quiet chuckle. 

“If you want me to be… Then, we'll do a trial run tonight, how does that sound?”  

“Good. Thank you, daddy.” You decided to try it out immediately and it was strange how natural the word fell from your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his cock twitch. 

“Okay, princess. You do a good job and I’ll reward you by pushing your bedtime back an hour.” That made your face light up, but you were feeling bold right now. 

“…Two?” 

“Thirty minutes?” He asked, in the same tone as you, making you pout and accept his original offer of one hour. “Pick up where you left off.” He spread his legs to give you more room to shuffle forward and lean your face close to his length, but instead of aiming for his cock, you went lower. You did as he instructed, kissing and licking them gently. It felt dirty and wrong doing this, but somehow, at the same time, like the most fulfilling thing you've ever done. 

“Now suck one into your mouth.” The second your lips wrapped around one, he cursed under his breath and let out a sigh of pleasure, but it quickly turned into a wince, making you pull back instantly. “Gotta be gentler, honey.” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” You rushed out, face flushing with shame, and he shushed you. 

“It’s okay. Just do it a little softer.” You hesitantly leaned forward to try once again, now much more apprehensive this time. “There you go…” He cooed, “Few more seconds, then do the same to the other one. Don’t forget to use your hand on my cock while you do this.” You blushed at the crude words but wrapped a hand around his length again to start pumping slowly before releasing him with a loud pop and moving to the other one. His sounds gave you confidence and you flicked your tongue as you sucked, then pulled back to keep licking and kissing while you stroked him. It was hard to multitask though with how overwhelmed you were getting from his scent and his hand holding yours on his thigh and just his closeness. 

You tried not to get too embarrassed when your spit kept building up until it was covering your lips and chin, making you feel even dirtier. But you realized that you like how it feels. You like feeling filthy as you make him feel good. 

You kept mouthing at his balls, occasionally sucking on them, and he placed his free hand on your head, stroking your hair. 

“Fuck… Look at you— Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” He asked teasingly, not giving you a chance to reply before speaking again. “There’s no way this mouth belongs to my innocent little girl.” You blushed, feeling shy at the compliment. 

“Daddy…” You whined against him, never stopping the movement of your hand or mouth. 

“It’s okay, kiddo. You just keep sucking on my balls and stroking my cock. Don’t need to do anything else.” You whimpered and squirmed at his feet, quickly growing uncomfortable with the weird feeling between your legs. 

“Daddy, it hurts.” You didn’t want to disobey him by stopping right after he told you to keep going, so you barely pulled back enough to get the words out. 

“What hurts?” You whined quietly and pressed your thighs together. His gaze traveled down your body curiously. “Your cunt?” You mewled and blushed at the vulgar word, but nodded in agreement. 

“You’re a proper whore, aren’t you?” He chuckled, making you frown and pull back. 

“No…” 

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, baby. If sucking balls is what gets you off, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“Stop making fun of me.” You pouted, making him smile. “And ‘m not a whore.” 

“Of course you’re not a whore, princess. You’re my whore.” Your entire face heated up and the ache between your legs got infinitely worse. “Isn’t that right?” You whined quietly and he chuckled. 

“Y-yes…” You whispered. “Yours.” 

“My what?” Your expression turned into a pout and you averted your gaze. “Hm?”

“Your— your whore.” You choked out as tears welled in your eyes from the humiliation of it all.  

“Good girl. Keep going.” 

“But,” He gave you a warning look so you ignored the fire in your belly and leaned back in. Your hand picked up again as you tried new things with your mouth on his balls, making sure to repeat the ones that drew any sounds from him. There was even more saliva now and you could feel some of it dripping down your neck to your chest.

“Go a little lower now.” 

“W-what?” You choked out, trying to pull back, but he used the hand on your head to hold you there. “Relax, kiddo. Just a little bit.” He explained, but you were still apprehensive. He pushed you down until your chin hit the chair then pulled you closer, burying your nose into his balls and holding you there. 

“Lick.” He demanded, but you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be licking. Since you weren’t able to question him, you just stuck your tongue out and moved it as best you could with how close he was holding you to his body. “There you fucking go.” He groaned, bucking his hips against your face. 

“So fuckin’ filthy.” He said through a breath. Despite the degrading words he used, his tone was full of admiration and pride. “Covered in your own spit as you lick my taint.” He chuckled, voice a little darker now. “Work your way back up slowly.” He lessened the pressure on your head and you gave one last lick before moving up to his balls, mouthing at them for a few seconds, then kissing up his length until you reached the tip. You pulled back and looked up at him, waiting for the next instruction eagerly. 

“…I’m on the fence about teaching you this.” You furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“What is it?”

“It’s not necessary for a good blow job, you can leave a guy plenty satisfied with what I’ve taught you so far, but this just makes it even better.” You wanted to make him feel even better so there wasn’t any doubt in your mind. 

“Please teach me?” You asked, even though you still weren’t really sure what he was talking about. 

“Are you sure?”

“Please, daddy.” You whined. 

“Okay, princess. Hands off.” You let go of his cock and placed your hand on his thigh. “Open.” Your mouth fell open and he adjusted so he was gripping your hair, then slowly lowered you onto him. 

“First I want you to show me how far down you can take it.” He kept his grip on your hair, but let you move freely. Slowly forcing yourself down, you looked up at him for a moment before taking a deep breath through your nose and closing your eyes to concentrate. This is what you’re not good at. You kept going down until he brushed the back of your mouth. When you tried to move down even more, you gagged and had to pull off. 

“Good girl. Almost halfway.” You all but beamed at the praise. “I’m going to try holding you there. Pinch my thigh if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded and he gave you a small smile. “Take a deep breath.” You inhaled and let your mouth fall open, waiting for him to guide you down onto his cock. He pushed your head slowly until he reached the back of your mouth, then held you still. You were fine for a few seconds as you breathed heavily through your nose and focused on suppressing your gag reflex, but once it started, you couldn’t stop it and you had to pinch his thigh. 

“That was good, kiddo. You’re already getting better. Just try to keep your mouth open wider so your teeth aren’t touching it, okay?” 

“Okay. Sorry…” You looked away, feeling embarrassed. You didn’t know how you were supposed to open your mouth any wider when your jaw was already starting to ache because of his size. 

“Don’t apologize. You’re learning, you’re bound to make a mistake or two.” He said, easing your nerves. 

“Can I try again?” 

“Whenever you’re ready.” You sank down on his cock voluntarily this time and took deep breaths through your nose as he held you there. You didn’t want to gag, but you could feel it coming anyway. When it happened, you squeezed his thighs to keep yourself from pinching him, wanting to hold out a little longer. He shushed you and used a hand to pet your head while the other held you down as your body instinctively tried to pull up. 

“Good girl. See if you can control it.” You squeezed your eyes shut with a strangled whimper and tried to breathe slowly. “That’s it… I'm going to pull you up a little so you can take a breath.” He lifted you only an inch or so up and you heaved in a shaky breath before he pushed you back down. You weren’t expecting him to actually only let you take a single breath, so you gagged again the second he hit the back of your mouth. This time though, you gagged hard enough to make you feel like you could throw up if it happened just one more time so you pinched him and he pulled you off. 

A string of saliva connected your lips to his cock and you panted heavily, trying to catch your breath and push down the nausea. 

“I’m so proud of you, kiddo. You’re doing amazing.” It didn’t feel like you were doing amazing, but you blushed at the compliment anyway. 

“Thank you.” You rasped, giving him a small smile. He cupped your cheek, rubbing the saliva on your lips around a little as he returned the expression. 

“Keep this up and I might consider pushing your bedtime back two hours instead.” Your face lit up at that and he laughed under his breath. 

“Really?” 

“You deserve it.” You smiled and his thumb swiped over your lips again, so you took it into your mouth and sucked lightly. “Christ— You’re going to kill me, baby.” He groaned, making you blush. “Do you think you can try something a little harder now?” 

“I think so.” You said quietly, after reluctantly pulling away from his thumb to speak. 

“I’m going to push you down farther, okay? You’ll probably gag, but I know you can take it.” He pushed your hair out of your face and gave you a reassuring smile. You nodded and moved closer to his length, taking a deep breath and waiting for him to push you down. He did it slowly and stopped once he reached the back of your mouth. Placing both hands on the back of your head, he applied more pressure, but did it quickly. You gagged instantly, but it cut off into a garbled whimper when he breached your throat barrier and pushed you all the way down until your nose was buried in his pelvis and your chin was resting on his balls. 

“Fuck— good fucking girl.” He said through a moan. You tried to stay there despite the intense need to gag, but it was quickly becoming too much. “You feel incredible, baby.” You squeezed your eyes shut, hearing him curse under his breath as you choked. When you couldn’t take it anymore, you pinched his thigh and he hesitated for a second before letting you pull off. He stroked your hair as you coughed and tried to catch your breath. You looked up at him through teary eyes and his other hand moved to cup your cheek and brush his thumb over your lips that were slick with even more saliva now. 

“How you holding up?” He asked softly and you cleared your throat before responding. 

“Good I think..” 

“Do you want to stop?” Kind of… but at the same time you wanted more. More of this— more of him. 

“No- no… I want to keep going.”

“Don’t just say that because you think it’s what I want to hear,”

“‘m not. Wanna keep going.” You whined. 

“Do you want to keep doing this or go back to what you were doing before?” He seemed to like this the most and you wanted to practice so you could get better for him. So even though your throat was already sore, you said yes. 

“This.” 

“Okay, baby. Whenever you’re ready.” You cleared your throat again and tried to even out your breathing before wrapping your lips around the tip again, waiting for him to push you back down. He moved you slowly until he reached the back of your mouth and you braced yourself for what was about to happen. 

Even though you were anticipating it, you still gagged when he applied more pressure, and then choked when he finally entered your throat. You were coughing and sputtering around him, each time forcing more spit out of your mouth, making your face heat up when you felt more of it roll down your neck to your chest. 

“That’s it… Good girl.” The moan that escaped you because of his praise sounded more like a garbled, incoherent sound rather than anything else. “Fuck— I’m gonna come, baby.” He groaned, making your stomach flutter. 

You wanted nothing more than to pull off so you could breathe and cough, but you wanted to let him finish. So you squeezed his thighs hard enough to make him wince and his hips flinched up, burying his cock even deeper. 

“When I pull out, keep your mouth open.” He rushed out and you could only make a strangled sound in return. His hips were rutting up into your mouth now as he kept a tight grip on your head, not letting you move when your body reflexively tried to pull away. He cursed under his breath, then let out a loud groan, and you felt heat in your throat until he pulled out. You coughed, but tried to keep your mouth open as he stroked his cock in front of you, making more come land on your tongue and around your lips. When his sounds quieted and his hand slowed to a stop, he stared down at you as he panted. 

“Swallow.” He demanded softly. You reluctantly closed your mouth and swallowed, then he swiped up the come that landed on your face and put it on your tongue for you to swallow as well. 

You tried not to let it show in your expression, but you weren’t expecting it to taste like that at all and it caught you off guard. Especially because you were expecting more of the sweet taste that the precum had. 

“Everyone tastes like that?” You asked quietly, making him chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t really know, sweetheart, but I would assume so.” He wiped your tears and the spit from your chin and your stomach fluttered again at the soft, simple action. “You did such a good job. I’m so proud, kiddo.” Your whole face flushed at the compliment, but you didn’t understand why he said it since it didn’t seem like you improved much. 

“Thank you..” You said anyway, making the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile. 

“Get up here, princess.” You immediately got giddy at the thought of being so close to him and you eagerly climbed onto the chair and straddled his legs, putting your hands on his shoulders. He rubbed up and down your thighs slowly, teasing you. 

“Do you think you’ve learned enough?” You tried not to frown at the thought of this ending so soon. 

“No…” You muttered, looking down. 

“No? What else can I teach you, baby?” He chuckled. You knew his question was rhetorical, but you answered anyway. 

“I- I don’t know how to… touch myself.” You said with a blush and his eyes widened a little. 

“You don’t touch yourself?” He asked through a breath, almost completely frozen. 

“I’ve tried… I just end up feeling awkward and dumb so I stop. But I need you, daddy, it hurts. Make it go away.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes and a frown. He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes for a moment, his grip tightening on your thighs. 

“Fuck— fuck, okay. I’ll teach you, but after that, no more.” 

“Okay.” You agreed, even though you knew you were going to be begging him to keep going when he decided to stop. He took a deep breath and you waited anxiously for him to do something. 

“You have to start slow, build up to it. Women are different from men, they need more than we do to get started.” His hands dragged up your thighs— over your skirt— to your hips, then up your waist, and sadly back down again. 

“Don’t wanna start slow.” You whined, squirming in his lap. 

“You told me to teach you and that’s what I’m doing, princess.” You huffed and looked away from him with a pout. When he suddenly grabbed your cheeks in one hand, then turned you back to face him and pulled you closer, your breath caught in your throat. 

“I don’t want any attitude from you when I’m the one doing you a favor.” He said lowly, but you were distracted by his breath fanning your lips and his grip on your face. “I control how fast or slow we go. Do you understand?” There was that fear again, only this time you subconsciously tried to grind against him. 

“Y-yes.” You whispered, staring at him with wide eyes, getting needier and needier. “Please,” You whined, squirming again, but stopping when his hand moved down to your throat. 

“What did I just say?” He gritted. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry— But I can’t take this anymore, it’s torture!” You cried. He stared at you with a dark look that made you nervous and you waited anxiously for what was next. 

“Fine. Up.”

“Daddy…” You whined, but it cut off then he roughly grabbed your hips and lifted you to your feet. He didn’t even give you a demand before pulling you forward by your hips so that your legs were on either side of one of his. You gasped when he pulled you down and reached for his shoulders to steady yourself. “Grind on my thigh.” 

“W-what?” You choked out, eyes widening even more. 

“If you want to act like a bitch in heat, that’s how you’ll be treated. Hump my fucking thigh or we’re done for tonight.” He menaced, making your whole face heat up. You’ve never heard such degrading words before, especially not aimed at you, and even though you were probably supposed to be upset that he basically just called you a dog… you started moving your hips anyway. 

“You need to learn,” he landed a hard smack on your ass, making you cry out and tighten your grip on his shoulders, “when to fucking listen.” Another spank, this time on your other cheek. “I didn’t have to let you suck my cock, but I did…” When he hit you again, you felt tears brimming in your eyes. “I didn’t have to teach you how to deep throat,” you let out a choked sob when he hit you again, the hardest so far, “but I did.” He growled, spanking you twice in quick succession. 

“I’m sorry!” You cried, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Look at the fucking mess you’re making.” He roughly fisted your hair and forced your head down so you could see the damp spot on his pants where you were grinding. You whined, getting so overwhelmed with the feeling between your legs and his words and his hands and just him. 

“Get the fuck up.” He suddenly said, making your heart drop. Was he going to leave you like this? All needy and achy?

“Daddy, ‘m sorry.” You whimpered, staring at him with puppy dogs eyes and a pout. In response, he just lifted you off of him by your hips and stood up. You protested with a whine, but it cut off when he pushed you in front of the desk and roughly forced your chest down on it. You tried lifting yourself up, but he just placed a firm hand between your shoulder blades and forced you back down. 

“Stay.” He growled, making you stiffen. He flipped your skirt up and you squirmed with a low whine. “No shorts?” He spanked you again and you quickly scrambled for purchase on the desk. When he roughly groped your ass, you let out a quiet moan and squeezed your thighs together, but he kicked your legs apart, not letting you have any relief. 

“Daddy…” You whined, but it cut off into a yelp when he spanked you again. He roughly cupped your sex and you mewled in response as you pushed your hips back. 

“Such a needy fucking pussy for a virgin.” He gruffed, making you blush, but it only intensified when he pulled your panties to the side. 

“Fuck…” He muttered, then dragged a finger through your slit, spreading your arousal. “Fuck!” You jumped at the sudden increase in volume. Was he mad? He sounded like he was quickly losing his composure and you weren’t exactly sure why or how you could help him. 

“Daddy?” 

“Shut up.” He hissed, roughly gripping your underwear and pulling until he ripped it off of you. “Just shut the fuck up.” 

“Mmph!” He shoved your panties in your mouth before you could even register what was happening. He ignored you and roughly groped your ass again, pulling you apart to spread your holes and cursing under his breath. When wetness and heat replaced the chilly air on your clit, your hips flinched back toward the pleasure as a surprise moan escaped you. 

He licked over you slowly, still having a firm grip on your ass to keep you spread open. Moving up to your hole, he licked and sucked, making a loud, vulgar slurping sound that had you whining from embarrassment. 

You whimpered, hiding your burning face in your arms. He lapped up your arousal for a while before going back down to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. You choked on a whimper at the sudden, intense pleasure, making him chuckle against you. 

Your knees shook and you moved your hands to grip the desk, trying to ground yourself, but it was just so fucking intense. Eventually, your legs got too weak to hold you up and all of your weight was resting on the desk with the hard wood digging into your hip bones painfully. 

You whimpered, feeling your stomach tighten with arousal even more, but let out an anguished sob when he suddenly pulled back. Your head was spinning with how fast he lifted you off of the desk and sat you down on his chair, removing the makeshift gag.

He pulled your hips to the edge and dove back in eagerly. Your hands landed in his hair as you rocked your hips against his face, moaning and whining at the new feeling— you could already tell you were getting addicted. Moving down to your hole, he lapped up your arousal and rubbed his thumb over your clit, making your stomach feel even tighter.  

“If you let that… that fucking pervert anywhere near you I swear to god you won’t be able to sit for a fucking week.” He growled and you moaned at his words as well as the sudden possessiveness in his tone. “This pussy is mine. Do you understand?” You mewled and tugged his hair, trying to pull his mouth back on you, but he was stronger. 

“Y-yes. Yours, daddy.” You whined, tugging harder. “Please!” You cried, when he still wouldn’t give in. “It’s yours, daddy! I’m all yours.” You sobbed out, grinding your hips in hopes of getting the stimulation back. 

“Pull your shirt up.” He gruffed, only leaning back down after you obeyed. His mouth took over his thumb again and he reached up to grope your breast as he sucked on your clit in an almost feral manner. “Who’s tits are these?” He mumbled against you, starting to toy with your nipple now. 

“Yours.” 

“Who’s allowed to see them?” He switched hands, giving your other nipple the same treatment. 

“Only you.” You said through a breath, feeling the coil in your stomach get impossibly tighter. 

“Who’s allowed to touch them?” 

“Only you, daddy. Please!” He didn’t respond, he just worked harder and faster on your clit until you fell over the edge. You sobbed out a moan and pulled on his hair hard enough to make him hiss in pain. But that was overshadowed by the feeling flooding your entire body, making you tremble and writhe as you rutted against his face. You weren’t lying when you said you don’t touch yourself, but now that you know what an orgasm feels like? You might start trying honestly. 

Once your body sagged into the chair and your sounds died down, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening. You were panting, still trying to calm down even though you were practically dizzy with pleasure. You felt warm hands running up and down your thighs, soothing you, and you gave him a dopey smile as your eyes fluttered open to look down at him. 

“You’ve got quite the grip on you, kiddo.” He chuckled, making you blush and loosen your hands in his hair. 

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly, trying to rub his scalp a little to soothe the ache he must be feeling from you pulling so hard. 

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded wordlessly. “I… I didn’t mean to get so harsh. I just worry.” 

“I know, it’s okay. I won’t go near him.” It felt like you were hit with a wave of exhaustion all of a sudden. Is that what orgasms do? Make you sleepy?

“Good girl. You tired?” When you nodded, he chuckled quietly. “Let’s get you cleaned up really quick. Wait here.” As if you could stand on your wobbly legs. You thought with an internal scoff. He left the room and returned with a damp washcloth a minute later. He started with your face, gently wiping the mascara from under your eyes and the dried spit around your mouth, trailing down your chest. Once that was cleaned up, he went even lower. You jolted when the cloth brushed over your folds. 

“I’ll be quick.” He said, trying to soothe you. He wiped the area gently and you couldn’t help the quiet moan that slipped out when he brushed your clit. “None of that.” He reprimanded you softly and with a smile. When he finished, he pulled your top back down and fixed your skirt. 

“Do you still want that hot chocolate and movie?” You nodded with a lazy smile and he chuckled before picking you up and carrying you to the living room. He set you down on the couch gently and laid a blanket over you, then kissed the top of your head. As he was walking to the kitchen, your brain was already starting to come up with new ways to get this to happen again. You still have so much to learn, after all. 

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @aviamulier @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @xxorazz @halleysc6met @crunchsworld @cillianscrybaby @babaohhhriley @deceitfuldevout @gentyleman @lorelais-world @shroombloom-rry @pinguwrites @thatonesinglefriend @bernelflo @bluujaiwrites @crunchsworld @jayroytodd

#jackson rippner x reader smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner #stepdad!jackson #red eye #red eye movie

[hheaven-sentt]

devotion

summary: because love doesn't quite capture it | leon kennedy x partner!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: depictions of injuries, angst if you squint, mentions of alcohol consumption, yearning, mutual pining, partners to friends to lovers

notes: BACK FROM THE DEAD W A VENGEANCE. my semester has finished and my second one doesn't start until january so i will be posting for once. college is kicking my ass like all the time so it puts everything else on pause for me anyway ily all | ao3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dress feels itchy against your skin. You don’t want to go to this event, so you can’t imagine how Leon feels. He doesn’t even like when you thank him for doing the dishes, so you wonder how he might behave up on a stage to receive a medal. You stretch behind you, reaching for the zipper. Wordlessly, Leon turns to you and zips it up himself. Of course he does; that’s just Leon.

“This is weird,” he says. It’s barely a whisper, breath dusting over your shoulder as he says it. You nod with a sigh.

“I wouldn’t say weird,” you return. You watch his eyes in the mirror. They hover somewhere on your forehead. “Not normal, but not weird,” “I think it’s weird,” he says, and steps away. You nod again, because what else can you say?

Working with Leon has its ups and downs. He’s too quiet some days, and you have to fill in the gaps yourself. Or he’s too loud–sometimes without even saying anything–and you have to figure out how to deal with it. Or he’s just Leon; he laughs and jokes, he helps cook dinner, he doesn’t talk about work. You like those days the best. Had you seen these versions of Leon when you were assigned to him almost ten years ago, you would’ve laughed. Ten years ago, you couldn’t imagine being this close to someone, to care as much as you do about someone you’re paid to be around.

You suppose there’s layers to it, layers you haven’t fully unraveled yet. You know only a few things for certain: Leon is your partner, he is also your unofficial roommate, and you care about him more than you care about others.

“Are you ready?” he asks. He’s standing in the doorway of the bedroom, the light from the hallway making him look like an angel descending to relay a message from God. You swallow and nod.

“Just need my shoes,” you say, moving to the bed and sliding your shoes across the floor to be in front of you. Leon bends down without a word to help you fasten them.

When he looks up at you, he looks less like your partner and more like someone you’re meant to love. An ache resonates within you, a need to reach out a brush your fingers through his darkened hair. He shifts his gaze to your upper arm. Gingerly, he runs the tips of his fingers over a scar that spans from your elbow to your clavicle. It’s ugly and red, courtesy of the nasty burn you’d sustained there a few years ago. The ridged skin is unfeeling as Leon skirts his hand across it, tracing it from your elbow to your shoulder.

“I remember when you got this,” he says absently. His fingers dance across your skin, and you wish the scar didn’t run so deep so you could feel his ministrations. “Thought I’d lost you,”

He says nothing more, just stands up and offers his hand to you to help you off the bed. You take it, and he hauls you up with ease. He twists out of the room like a ghost. You follow him, like you always do.

The scar is one of a few you’ve come to own. You remember the day you got it, too. For whatever reason, you replay the moment in your head over and over in the taxi on the way to the gala. It makes your skin burn.

It was supposed to be a normal day, a normal mission. Go in, extract, get out. Three simple steps that you had done a hundred thousand times before. Leon stood beside you, always offering to enter a room first. You’ll admit, years removed from the situation, you should’ve been more careful, should’ve listened to what he was saying. But you were so angry at him. You felt weak, unnecessary. You remember shoving past him and through a door you hadn’t known was connected to a trigger. Almost as soon as your boot touched the concrete on the other side of the threshold, your hearing went out. It felt like you were standing miles away from a nuclear blast, and you had felt the effects of the delayed shockwave. You were knocked to the ground in an instant, but you didn’t feel pain–not yet at least. When you woke up in the hospital a day later, Leon was asleep in the chair beside you.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he’d said. You vowed not to.

“Do you think they’ll at least have an open bar?” he says now, drawing you back into the world. You turn away from the window of the cab to look at him. He’s staring at his hands, forcing a small smile.

“They better,” you say, reaching over and settling a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you. “It’s the only reason I’m going,”

This turns his smile genuine, and he even offers an eyeroll. You squeeze his shoulder, bracelets jingling with the motion. His eyes are on you, and you feel as hot as fresh sin. You hate this; hate that he makes you feel this way, hate that he is so beautiful, hate that you can’t seem to shake this deep seated love you harbor for him. You miss him when he looks away and you remove your hand.

The gala is overwhelming. Leon stays near you, hand hovering near your own. You wish he would reach out and take it. You debate the consequences of doing it yourself.

Breath hot on the shell of your ear, Leon whispers, “You think our taxes went into this?”

You suppress a laugh, tightening your lips into a thin line to fight a smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised, but I’ll pretend like this was all donated,”

“You can consider taxes a donation if you really think about it,” he says, gliding across the floor with you toward an empty table. You snort.

“I think that depends on what your definition of donation is,” you say. He pulls out your chair for you before pushing it in, then takes his own seat beside you. His legs are angled toward you like he only plans on talking to you.

“I think you underestimate my ability to bend definitions to suit my needs,” he says. You laugh again.

You like this version of Leon, and you know that it won’t last very long so you should hold onto it while it’s here. An old jazz song rings out from the speakers across the hall, and the lights catch his eyes just right. They’re really blue, as true blue as blue gets. They’re your favorite shade of blue. If you could paint your living room that color, you would. It’s a soft blue, like the crest of a wave blue, like the sky just after dawn blue, like two perfect oceans set into his skull. There’s a hairline scar that runs between the crows feet of his left eye, one you ache to reach out and trace.

That’s the best way to describe how you feel when you look at Leon: aching. It’s desperation, an aching need to touch and hold. It’s not exactly love, but you don’t have another word for it. Maybe devotion? Looking at him feels like the first time a child sees a kitten. You’re like me, soft and lovable, and we should stay together.

“Have you listened to anything I’ve said in the last few minutes?” Leon asks, putting a hand on your knee that brings you back to the gala. You suck in a breath and shake your head. He smiles wide. “Quit staring at me, makes me feel like I’ve got something on my face,”

“You’re pretty,” you say before you can stop yourself. Maybe pretty is the wrong word, but you don’t know what the right one would be. He’s handsome, sure, but handsome doesn’t encapsulate the way his lashes flutter against his cheekbones or the way he blushes when you smile at him. “Sorry,”

He’s grinning now, giving your knee a squeeze. “You flatter me,”

An hour later, and he’s being called up on stage by your director, who intends to decorate him. You’re beaming with pride, even though you know Leon is dreading this moment. He stumbles across the stage. Cameras are flashing, and you can almost see Leon cringe between photos. He’s off the stage a few minutes later, heading straight for you. You grin more, knowing that he’s choosing to seek solace in you, in your company. He wraps you in a stiff hug that loosens as it endures. You laugh into his shoulder.

“Don’t let me do anything heroic ever again,” he mumbles, burying his face into your neck. You bark a laugh.

“Yeah, okay,” you agree. “I’ll make sure to step in next time,”

In an act that surprises you, Leon tugs you toward the dance floor. You must look wildly confused because he explains, “Just this once. Just one dance,”

You agree, not that you could deny even if you wanted to. He’s looking at you like you’re someone he’s meant to love, like you’re more than just his partner. His hand slots against the curve of your waist like it was made specifically to be there. He’s warm and smiling, and you think maybe he’s had a bit too much champagne. But you like him like this. Who knows when you’ll see him like this again? You stare at him, intent to memorize his features and the way the light catches on the bridge of his nose.

“You’re staring again,” he whispers. You smile sheepishly.

“Never seen you like this,” you reply. He bows his head to chuckle. “Not sure I’ll ever get the chance to again,”

“I’m sure you will,” he says. “You’re the one who brings it out of me,”

You roll your eyes. “I’m more convinced it’s all the free champagne we’ve been drinking,”

“You can believe whatever you want, sweetness,” he says, spinning you. “I’m telling you the truth,”

You’re both giggly and joking the whole way home. Leon has you wheezing about something you can’t remember as you step into the apartment. Tears rest at the corners of your eyes. You shove him playfully. He follows you from room to room like a puppy, making you giggle and flash a smile as you clean up for the night.

You crash onto the bed, warm and light from the night, and reach to take off your shoes. Leon stands in the doorway, watching you. The light from the hallway gives him a halo. Your feet ache as you release them from their prisons, and you glance up to see Leon smiling at you. You return it with the cock of one of your brows.

“You’re pretty,” he says by way of explanation. You feel heat snake up your body. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, hair slightly messy from where he’s run his hands through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone. If you weren’t as shy as you are, you’d probably move to touch him.

Instead, you huff a laugh and toss your shoes to the floor. “You flatter me,”

When you stand and begin to move around him, he grabs your elbow. “I mean it,”

Perhaps, in another life, you would see this as a win. The man you’ve spent most of your life following around and yearning for seemingly returns your affections, and you are about to deny him. Admitting it out loud makes it real, makes it mean something. What happens the next time something goes wrong out there? The next time he does something heroic? Everything will be much too real, and much harder to bury. You blink at him, looking at him for what feels like the very first and last time. He’s still Leon; scruffy stubble, blue eyes, and warmth. He’s still Leon, teetering on being your Leon, and you’re not going to let that happen. You, again, are going to deny yourself from what you want.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. You take in a shaky breath. He’s still holding you, but his touch is a ghost on your flesh.

“Leon, I don’t know-”

“You know that one Frank Sinatra song?” he interrupts. You gape at him.

“Why did you ask if you won’t let me answer?” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. He returns his hands to his pockets.

“Predicted where it was going, figured I’d circumvent it,” he admits, the corner of his lips turning upward slightly. “The song he sings with his wife?”

You shrug. “Maybe? What’s your point?”

“I love you,” he says. Your body goes cold. “That could be the stupidest thing I’ve ever said, but I feel like you should know that before you make whatever decision you’re about to make,”

Your face breaks out into a grin, and you laugh in spite of yourself. “I’m sure you’ve said stupider,”

Whatever worry was on Leon’s face dissolves, and a real, full smile splits across his lips. He takes your face in his hands. He holds you delicately, like you’d break under the slightest pressure. To be fair, you feel like glass at the moment–if glass could have legs made of rubber.

“This makes it real,” you say. He swallows. “No going back, no forgetting, no pretending. When something happens, it will be real,”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he whispers. “It’s worked out for us so far,”

You’re not sure who closes the space first, but it matters little after it’s happened. His lips are gentle and giving against your own. Your hands splay against his sides, using his suit jacket to pull him closer. His hands wind into your hair. There’s a desperation behind his movements, one you’re all too familiar with. After what feels like hours, he breaks from you, leaning his forehead against yours. His breathing is labored, you can feel it in his strong chest beneath your hands.

“This is real,” he says.

“We take risks for a living,” you say. He opens his eyes to peek at you through his lashes. “What’s one more right?”

He grins and kisses you again.

#leon kennedy x reader #my fics #m writes #resident evil #x reader #partner!reader #resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy #id leon kennedy

[nhlclover]

wish you were sober pt.2 | mark estapa

summary: mark works up the courage to finally tell you his long kept feelings. part one here!

request: yes / no

warnings: the second part to a previous story, i recommend reading the first part before this one. semi proof read, couple instances of cursing, little bit of angst + fluff

a/n: sitting here pretending he didn't just get hurt yesterday😃 also sorry for lack of posting it’s midterms and i’ve got lots of school work so bear with me!

word count: 1.08k

It had been a full day and a half since you’d heard anything from Mark. Although you had told him off, saying you were done, you had hoped he would’ve come to some sort of senses sooner. You missed him. You missed having him in your life, to the point you wished you’d said nothing. You honestly would’ve rathered staying in your limbo of friendship as long as that meant keeping Mark in your life.

The past couple of days had been miserable for you as you were stuck in your dorm room, doing homework and getting ahead on readings. Normally, over a weekend, you would have a hockey game to go to. You’d watch Mark play, and hopefully watch Michigan win. But you couldn’t bring yourself to go to Saturday’s game, so you instead watched online from the comfort of your bed, missing Mark's hold.

When your phone buzzed, you’d expected a text from you and your friends' group chat. Your heart did a leap when you read Mark's name on your screen. A text from him asked if he could come over. You wondered if it was just going to be Mark pretending as if nothing happened, as per usual. The smart and right thing to do would be to say no or ignore his text. But the prospect of having Mark back, hanging out with him in your dorm again, made you blindly pick up your phone and agree, telling him to come over. 

He was there within a few minutes, a soft knock signifying his arrival. When you opened the door, his appearance was not one you’d expected. His normal smile-dressed face, eyes lighting up with excitement even if it was just another normal day, was absent. He looked somber.

You stepped aside, allowing the boy to walk into your room. He sat in your desk chair, leaning back. The space was void of any words.

You stay by the door, wanting to maintain the distance between the two of you. You know that if you’re within reaching distance and you fall into his arms, Mark won’t need to say anything because you’ll succumb to his touch.

“How was your weekend?” He asks. It’s suddenly as you feared, with Mark brushing past what had happened on Friday.

You scoff at his question. “Uh, it was fine, Mark. I did some homework.” You answer bluntly.

Mark nodded, picking at the skin around his fingernails. “We had a game on Saturday. I was hoping you’d go, but I kind of figured you wouldn’t. We won. Four nothing. Rutger had this awesome play where-”

“What’re you doing here, Mark?” You cut him off.

He licks his lips, looking away from you. He’s silent as he looks out your window, the orange leaves slowly dropping from the tree just outside.

“I thought about what you said…on Friday.” He finally says. 

Your mouth goes dry, anticipating what his next words will be. You figure it goes one of two ways; he tells you he feels the same way or he tells you he doesn’t feel the same way and it’s the end of your friendship as you know it. You pray it’s the first.

“I was a douche.” He says. “I like you. I do. I really do.”

His words seem sincere but you don’t feel wholly convinced. “You said that, Mark.” You say. “But I don’t know if I believe you.”

“I understand that, but please try to.” He says softly. You stay silent, going to sit on your bed, giving Mark the chance to speak. 

“Okay…I’ve liked you for a while now. Like, last homecoming, y’know?”

You do know. It was the first time he’d kissed you.

“That…that was…sober thoughts becoming drunk actions,” Mark says. “Y’see I liked you a lot but I was scared…I didn’t know what to do. So when I got drunk, I wasn’t scared anymore so I just kissed you. And then the next morning, I was sober and the fear was back.” “Okay but Mark, I don’t understand what you were scared of. You say.

“I was scared you wouldn’t reciprocate, y/n.” He says. 

You can’t help but chuckle at his reasoning. “Why would you think that? I did reciprocate.” 

Mark bows his head, shrugging his shoulders. “Y/n… you’ve been in my life for too long. If I fucked up our friendship…I don’t know what I’d do.”

You run your hands over your face, processing his words. 

“And you’re you! I mean, y/n, you’ve always been this straight-A student, and you’re so god-damn smart and I’m a fucking fourth liner with more penalty minutes than shots on net.” Mark says, chuckling as he reaches the end of his sentence.

“Mark…” You say. You finally lock eyes with him, his brimming with tears. You hop off your bed, standing in front of him.

“And I’m not trying to give excuses I’m just trying to explain why the hell I’ve been the way that I am.” He tells you.

You reach forward, running your hand through his hair. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. His hands find the back of your thighs, his head resting on your stomach. The pair of you stay there momentarily, holding one another close. 

“Y/n?” Mark finally says. You pull back slightly, looking at Mark. “I want you. I want to be with you. Please.”

He pulls you down so you’re sat on his right knee. “If you’ll have me.” He adds.

You chuckle, bringing a hand to his cheek. Mark doesn’t hesitate to close the space, pressing his lips against yours. The comfort of his lips swaddles you as his hands grip your hips to hold you on his lap. The lack of sloppiness his sober kiss brings realizes the truth of his words. You’ve also known Mark since grade school and you’ve come to recognize when Mark is being genuine and not. And right now you have no doubt in your mind of how genuine he is.

When you break apart, you wipe away a stray tear that had escaped Mark's eye. “So, you’ve liked me since last year?”

“Maybe more like high school…” Mark says.

“High school? You’ve been hiding this since high school?” You ask.

“Yeah, well you didn’t like me then!” Mark defended.

You chuckle, brushing back a piece of hair that fell over his face. “Honey, I’ve liked you since the day you destroyed my sandcastle in the sandbox.”

#mark estapa #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl #hockey #umich imagine #university of michigan

[hughes86-43]

tough love | M. Barzal

request - can you write for Mat and do enemies to lovers as coworkers. maybe she’s on the social team and she gets hurt getting content and he’s the one to help her get to the trainers for medical attention? (thanks for requesting :)

warnings - mentions of blood, not sure what else but please let me know if there is more! some grammar mistakes present.

To say working on the social media team for a NHL team being your live long dream would be an understatement. Ever since you watched your first NHL game with your dad, you somehow someway wanted to work for one of the teams. You went to school, and you worked hard to get to where you are now.

The lead social media member for the New York Islanders.

You honestly cried when they first offered the job to you. You couldn’t believe it. All your hard work was starting to pay off.

Upon your first year there, you met all of the Islanders team, and also, made some great friendships with them. You did your best to be friendly with everyone as you were going to constantly be working around them. Mostly everyone was very welcoming and friendly towards you, however there is always that one person that begins to get on your last nerves every time you see him.

That person for you was Mat Barzal.

The truth was you never did like him especially since you heard what he had said about you. Within the first month that you were there, you had been walking to your office when you overheard your name down the hall. Thinking someone was wanting you, you walked down the hall, but you stopped at the doorway when you heard what actually was being said.

“I don’t know man, just something about her is nerve wracking. Maybe it’s the over-the-top excitement about everything, I don’t know, or maybe it’s just the way she is constantly annoying in those meetings.” Even though you had only met him twice in that first month, you could tell that the voice was Mat. Once you heard him say that, you made your way back down the hallway to your office. Shutting the door, you did your best to not let it get to your head.

However, no matter what he thought of you, you still wouldn’t let that keep you down. You were just excited that you finally got your dream job, and you were not about to let someone you barely knew get you down about it.

Now over a year later, that hatred you felt for Mat was still there. You didn’t know if he ever noticed it, but you didn’t exactly hide that you didn’t like him either.

The Islanders were playing the Panthers at home tonight. You arrived to the arena for morning practice in your black dress pants with a blue sweater paired with black heeled boots. Multiple of your coworkers complimented you on your outfit that it was perfectly matched with the Islanders blue.

You walked down the long hallway to your office to get your notes for the media coverage today. You were unfortunately going to be interviewing Mat after practice, but fortunately you also would be interviewing other, nicer players after him.

During practice, you advised the intern photographer of what types of shots they should be getting, practicing for the game later tonight. Soon after, all the players were off the ice and down the hall to the locker room to change. Leaving you to mentally prepare for interviewing Mat.

Mat was always professional during the interviews he did with you, however you could tell that he was just trying to get it over with, which he doesn’t do with any of the other media people. That action itself makes you even more annoyed at him.

As you were waiting to get the all clear to make your way to the locker room, you got held up by your office door not opening. You tried the key card and everything but it just wouldn’t open for some reason. Deciding to just figure it out later, even though your notes were in there, you went to the locker room. The whole fiasco had made you late by ten minutes, so you knew that Mat would be annoyed at you.

That assumption was true as you walked into the locker room and saw him on his phone. When he heard you walked in, he spoke to you with an annoying tone. “Other important things to take care of, huh?” You took a deep breathe, trying not to let your emotions get the best of you.

“Yes, sorry, my key card wouldn’t let me into my office,” you say as you get your mic ready for him while trying to rummage through your bag for your water.

“Here, give me the mic.” He grabs it out of your hand after you didn’t respond for five seconds. “Are you sure you weren’t fired?” Although you could tell he was just trying to get a reaction out of you, you couldn’t help but to give a sarcastic answer.

“Seeing as no one has came and dragged me out of here yet, I think I’m still good. You couldn’t make a goal during practice, are you sure you’re still going to be starting tonight?” You turn your head away from your bag and stare dead into his eyes. He gives you a blank stare.

“Is that part of the interview? Trying to take shots at me now, huh?”

You grab back the mic from him and take your seat in-front of him. “No, that wasn’t part of the interview, and I’ll take as many shots at you that I want, since you seemingly want to do the same.” You get comfortable in your chair, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other, which then causes your water bottle to fall to the floor. Water goes everywhere, because of course the lid wasn’t on good.

You reach out to grab your water bottle, the same time that Mat reaches down with a towel in his hand to clean it up. You try to take it out of his hand, but he keeps pulling it from you. “Here, I can do it!” You say reaching out for it again. “No, I got it, I can do it, just put your lid back on your bottle before it gets worse!” You end up just letting him clean up the water as you put the lid back on, because truly you could’ve went back and forth with him for a lot longer.

He stands up and walks to take the towel to the hamper by the door. Once he sits back down, you ask, “Are we ready to start now?”

“Yes, unless you’re going to spill your water again?” You roll your eyes at that and begin asking the questions.

Twenty minutes later, you finish with the last question. You turn the mic off and throw it back into your bag until the next one. You’re rummaging around your bag again when you find the key card that was actually the right one for your office. “Ugh!” You say out loud, not noticing that Mat was still in the room.

From his stall, he whips his head around so fast and makes his way towards you. “What? Are you okay?” You jump when you turn around, not realizing he was closer than he seemed. “Sorry for scaring you, what’s wrong?” He says eyeing you up and down, practically seeing if you broke anything.

“Oh, nothing. I just found the right key card to my office.” You wave the key card in front of you. Mat nervously runs his hand through his hair, backing up to give you your space back.

“Oh, that’s good, great, guess that means we’re stuck with you, eh?” At that, you throw your key back into your back, along with your water bottle, and throw your bag onto your shoulder.

“Yep, guess so! Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go back to my office, which means I’m not fired, and prepare for the next interview, so thanks!” You just want nothing more than to get into your office and let out the emotions you’ve been trying to hold in.

Mat seems to notice the change in your demeanor, he reaches out to touch your shoulder. “Hey, are you okay? I was only joking,” he says softly but you move out of his reach.

“Yep, all good! I know you’re joking, it’s all good!” You rush out the door before he can saying anything else.

-

You make it through all the interviews, make you’re way home to take a nap, and now your back for the game tonight. You changed your outfit to blue pants and a black long sleeve paired with the same boots from earlier.

You managed to get into your office with the right key this time. You take some last minute notes before heading to your spot in the arena.

You spend the first and second period in your spot with the other media people behind the glass. You send out tweets, take videos, send instructions on what the intern photographer should take photos of, and take notes to ask the players after the game. During the third period, you’re doing the same until the worst thing imaginable happens to you.

It’s 5 minutes left in the final period, the opposing team ends up with the puck on the opposite side of the ice from you. You weren’t paying attention much to what was happening on the ice, which you should’ve been, since the puck somehow ended up flying over the glass and hitting you under the eye. It has you stumbling to find your balance, you hold your cheek, and you can feel the blood flowing down it.

Mat sees it all happen. The puck flying through the air, over the glass and hitting you. He can see the blood gushing down your cheek. He rushes to the bench to get a trainer. He’s practically trying to climb over the glass to see if you’re okay, because the amount of blood doesn’t seem that good. The trainers are around the glass within seconds to get you up and down the tunnel to the medical room.

You faintly hear someone say “I’ll check on you after” but you’re not sure if the force of the hit left you hallucinating things. You’re also not sure if that was Mat or not who was rushing towards you behind the glass.

-

You finish the rest of the period laying on a medical table in the medical room. They ruled out anything major; they just had to stitch you up. Now you just have to lay there for thirty minutes with an ice pack on your face until they rule that you’re good to go home.

Ten minutes or so after, you hear someone ask one of the medical staff about you. They must’ve said that you’re still here, because you see Mat coming through the door looking frantic. He changed out of his gear, mostly now just in shorts and a hoodie.

He spots you laying on the table in the corner, he rushes over to you. “Oh, gosh, are you okay? I came as fast a could to check on you.” He pulls up a chair to sit next to you. He’s not sure whether he should reach out to touch you or not, but he decides not to, not yet anyway.

“Yeah, I think so, pretty much. They stitched me up and gave me some Tylenol for the pain,” You reply back, trying to look anywhere but at him.

He nods his head at your answer. “That’s good, that’s good,” he says nervously.

With his nervous tone, you turn your head to look at him. For someone that finds you annoying, he sure seems to be worked up about something, you think to yourself. Heck, he probably came to make sure you died but got disappointed.

Deciding to speak up after a couple minutes of awkward silence. You ask him, “Why did you help me out there? I would’ve though you would have left me lying there.”

Mat looks down at you with a shocked look on his face. “Why would I do that? Just leave you there? As you’re bleeding down your face?”

“Well yeah, you’re not really my biggest fan, ya know,” you reply as a matter of fact, like he should know that.

“What? Where’d you get that from?” He’s now trying to decide if he should go get one of the medical staff as he is now worried that the hit as made you go crazy.

“Oh, I don’t know, since you said that my excitement about working was over the top or the fact you said that I was annoying.”

“When did I ever say that?” He pauses. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you wave your hand around, “Plus, you’ve never not been annoyed with me during interviews, when you’ve been nothing but nice to anyone else so.”

Mat sits there trying to process everything you’ve been saying. “Oh.”

Honestly, you’re pretty sure your just spilling all the thoughts on your mind right now. “It’s not like you’ve been my favorite person or anything. I’ve been trying to annoy you since you said that.”

“Oh-” Mat starts, but you continue talking.

“And then I was annoyed this morning because you really want me fired for some reason since you joked about it all morning.”

Mat tries to get another sentence out. “I don’t want you fired-”

You’re still rambling on and on. “I mean, I get it, I really do. My excitement can be over the top sometimes about things, but I don’t think that warrants being fired over-”

“Y/N-”

“I mean what’s wrong with being excited? I’ve worked hard and nobody else seems to think I should be fired, well except you and this lady down the hall, but that was probably because I spilt my drink on her by accident, but still-”

“Y/N!” That shuts you right up. “Did the puck rattle you so much that you’re going crazy now? Take a deep breath with me, you’ve been talking nonstop without taking a moment to breathe.”

You follow his breathing and calm down a bit. You lay your head back down on the table with the washcloth back on your cut. However, you shoot your head back up at what Mat says.

“You know, I never wanted you to be fired. Heck, you’re so good at your job that I don’t think anyone else would be as good as you, so they wouldn’t want to fire you.”

You’re the confused one right now, “Huh?”

“Shhh, it’s my turn to talk now. Honestly, I don’t even know why I said those things about you. I know I was wrong for saying those things about you, and I’m sorry,” He looks into your eyes. “I love how you’re so excited about what you do and it’s understandable because you worked so hard to get to where you are. Overtime, I’ve started to admire how hard you work and how excited you are to do the work that you do. It has always made me so happy to see you do the thing you love to do. I guess my way to showcase that was by annoying you, though.”

You stare at him with your mouth wide open, completely shocked by what he is saying. You take a second to process what he just said, you reply, “Are you serious right now? Because Mat, I swear, if you’re messing with me right now to get a reaction, now is not the time and it would not be good for you.”

Mat frantically shakes his head. “No, no. I promise I’m being serious,” he runs his hand through his hair. “I guess what I was trying to say is that I like you a lot.”

You lay your head back down to think over what just happened in the last hour or so. “I’m dying, aren’t I? I’m hallucinating this. I’m losing my mind. You get hit by a puck in the face one time, and now, you’re losing your mind.”

Mat laughs at your dramatics, but quickly gathers himself to comfort you. “Hey, Y/N, I promise you’re not dying. You’re just fine, everything is fine, you just had to get stitches, and you’re going to be good to go home soon.”

Finally, after debating it a lot, he reaches out to run his hand over your hair, and surprisingly, you let him. After taking some deep breaths and calming down a bit, you say, “Okay, I’m okay. Sorry, I don’t know what happened there.” You shakily let out a laugh.

Mat still has a hand in your hair, and he smiles down at you. “It’s okay, all is good. Guess I probably could’ve waited to tell you all that, but I couldn’t after seeing you almost dying out there.”

“No, I’m glad you did. Honestly, I like you a lot, too. I think I’ve just been too annoyed at you to realize that. Maybe we both have just been flirting back at each other without realizing it,” you jokingly say.

“Maybe so, but truly, I’m glad you’re okay.” He runs a thumb over your cheek under the stitched up cut.

You both relish in that moment until the medical staff comes in. “Okay, you’re good to go, do you think you can drive back or do we need to call someone?”

“No, I think I’m okay to drive, and if not, I have someone to help me.” You thank them before hopping off the table to grab your bag.

Mat walks up beside you and places his hand on your lower back to steady you after seeing you trying to regain your balance. “Do you really think you can drive home by yourself?”

You turn your head to look at him and give him a grin. “Oh, I’m still a bit dizzy so no, but I know someone who can drive me though.” You give him a wink and hand him your keys.

“Me? You want me to drive you home?”

He’s not sure if he has died and went to Heaven. You laugh, “Yes, you! Now c’mon, I’m tired and I need someone to take care of me, so show me how caring you are, and take me home. We can go from there.” Mat didn’t have to think for a second longer as he followed right beside you to your car. Certainly not the night you thought would happen, but you can be glad something good came from it.

#mat barzal fic #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagines #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal #hockey imagines #hockey fics #nhlhockey fic #nhl imagines

[paradiseismine]

Late Night Talking - Trevor Spengler x Reader

Love note from Nina: Aaaand I’m back again with some more Finnie cuteness and filth, lovelies. My boy Trevor is way too underrated around here, so it’s about damn time we turn those tables.

Pairing: Trevor Spengler (Ghostbusters Afterlife/Frozen Empire) x f!reader

Warnings: mostly smut, but also some fluff. Also maybe this is kinda long (?) sorry not sorry etc

Summary: you visit the Spengler’s residence for a dinner party and end up having a lot more fun than you intended, if you know what I mean

Your mom and Mrs. Spengler had become best friends, all of a sudden - neither of them had had much luck on that when they moved to the city, but ever since they first met in a 7/11 a month ago, they were inseparable.

It was a Saturday evening, and your mom was dragging you along to Mrs. Spengler’s house, for a dinner party of some sort. You weren’t in the mood, but she seemed so happy to finally have a new friend, you just couldn’t say “no” to her.

So, all dressed up in a cute black dress and strap sandals, you rang the doorbell.

- Oh, hello - a tall lanky boy with messy black hair opened the door. - Good evening, Mrs. y/l/n… And you must be y/n, right?

You nodded, smiling sweetly, as your mom greeted the boy as well.

- Hi, Trevor! Your mom told me all about you - she said, giving him a warm hug after she handed you the huge cake tray she was holding.

It was pretty heavy - your mom wouldn’t show up to dine at someone’s house without bringing dessert - but you could manage to hold it.

- Callie, there you are! - she squealed as she hurried to meet Mrs. Spengler in the kitchen, leaving you and Trevor behind.

- She loves your mom - you said to Trevor, chuckling.

- My mom loves yours too - he chuckled. - Hey, can I help you with that? - he continued, gently taking the cake tray off of your hands.

- Thank you Trev, that was quite heavy - you said, relieved. - Should we bring that to the kitchen?

So you both put the cake in the fridge and helped your moms with everything - from setting the table to organizing the kitchen.

You had a great time eating and talking to Callie, Trevor and his sister, Phoebe. After dinner was over, the moms opened up a bottle of wine and sat on the living room to talk, while Phoebe went to her room to sleep.

That left you and Trevor alone in the kitchen, talking. It was already close to midnight, and by the laughs you could hear from the couch, you were not going to leave the Spengler’s home for a long time. Halloween was just around the corner, so you asked Trevor if he was into horror movies.

- Hm, kind of… - he responded, finishing his glass of soda. - I think they’re way too unrealistic sometimes.

- Ugh, wish I felt like that too… Movies like Poltergeist and The Conjuring totally freak me out. I’m just afraid of ghosts, I guess.

Trevor nearly choked, but you couldn’t understand why.

- Do you like slasher movies though? - he asked, trying to move on with the conversation.

- Yeah, I love them! - you answered, excitedly. - My favorite one is Friday The 13th!

- The first one?

- The best one, right?

- Absolutely - he laughed, then pointing to your moms in the living room - I think they’re gonna take a while there… Wanna go upstairs and watch a movie? It can be Friday the 13th if you want.

- Of course, I’d love that! - you said and walked over to the living room with him.

- Mom, Trevor and I are going upstairs to watch a movie, ok?

- Sure darlings, go there and befriend! - your mom agreed, her voice sounding a bit different already. Good thing you were driving.

You two went up the stairs to Trevor’s room, still talking about horror movies and your personal favorites; but you noticed he would talk just as excitedly about any subject. The conversation was light and comfortable. Trevor was so nice to talk to. He was also really good looking. Something about his lanky figure, dark hair and dark eyes really stood out to you.

Up in his room, you couldn’t help but walk around and notice the various objects he had in there.

- Whoa, do you like Arctic Monkeys?

- Their “AM” album is, like, most of my will to live. - he chuckled. - So yeah, I like them a bit.

- That’s an instant classic if I’ve ever seen one, right?

Turns out, you and Trev had A LOT in common. You were into the same movies, the same music and even the same places to hang out. He was working up the courage to ask you on a date already.

- So, uh… y/n, would you… would you like to go to that record store downtown with me… Sometime? It doesn’t have to be like a date or-

You put your index finger to his lips, and his eyes went wide.

- But can it be a date, though? - you whispered, your finger leaving his lips as you put your hand on his cheek.

- S-sure - he stuttered. He was much taller than you, even with the heels you were wearing.

- I would love to - you smiled, your hand still on his cheek. - I could talk with you all night if you’d let me.

- Me too - he smiled, putting his arm around your waist and leaning in a bit. - Y/n… can I-can I kiss you? Or does asking that totally ruin the mood?

- Of course you can! - you laughed. - C’mere.

You leaned in and your lips touched his, lightly. You touched your forehead to his and looked him in the eyes. He pulled you even closer by your waist and kissed you again, way more eagerly this time. His tongue asked for entrance and you permitted it, in pure ecstasy.

- Hm - he broke the kiss - maybe we could move this over there? - he said, his head pointing to an armchair on the corner of his room. You nodded, your lips parted and swollen from the kiss.

Trevor sat down on the armchair and you sat nearly on his lap, but sideways, so your butt was down on the armchair and your legs were all over his lap.

He put his hands on your bare knees and caressed them gently as you continued to kiss, more slowly than before. Your dress was a few inches above your knees. Nothing too modest or too slutty, but Trevor secretly wished you were wearing the sluttiest dress possible, just so he could feel you up without actually lifting up your dress and risking getting slapped across the face.

Little did he know you were craving that touch. You lightly guided his hands a bit further up your thighs, giving him the permission he wanted. To touch your soft skin and get intoxicated by you.

You kept kissing him passionately, your hands wandering from his cheek to his neck to his chest. You grabbed the collar of his T-shirt and pulled him even closer, wanting to savor him as much as you could. He let out a soft moan on your lips, so discreet you wouldn’t be able to hear it if you two weren’t all the way upstairs in his room.

Things were getting hot and heavy pretty quickly, but isn’t it always like that when you’re young? His hands were gently caressing your upper thighs for a minute, as if he was mentally debating a way to ask you to take off your dress, but gave up on that idea.

His slender fingers gently slid your panties to the side, only to meet your soaking wet pussy. You hissed and moaned in his mouth as he kissed you hungrily while slowly playing with your clit. His touch was so light, it made you ache for more; but at the same time, it was perfect. He continued for a couple minutes, your moans in his ear increasing. That had to be Trevor’s new favorite sound.

- Trev - you called, your voice faint and breathy. He looked into your eyes. His gaze was dark and full of lust. His swollen red lips were slightly parted, ugh, he was so beautiful… - If you keep going, I-I…

But you couldn’t finish that sentence. Your back arched and your mouth cracked open, your body completely taken by that orgasm. Your eyes were closed for most of the time, squeezed in pleasure, but when you peeked through them to look at Trevor’s face, he was grinning like the devil. He got you good and he knew he did.

- You’re so pretty - he said, mesmerized, his fingers still touching your pussy until you closed your legs and he realized you had ridden out of your orgasm. - and you look even prettier when you cum.

You sat there in his lap for a moment, head on his shoulder, resting a little from such an intense sensation. Trevor had quite a cocky smile plastered on his face, seeming proud of himself for making a pretty girl cum. For getting the chance to make a pretty girl cum and succeeding.

- Alright, so not only you’re all tall and handsome and stuff, but you also got magic hands? - you said, your hair ruffled and your voice breathy.

- Magic hands? Really? - he laughed.

- I’m serious. - you said, laughing with him. - But now I feel the need to… reciprocate, you know?

Trevor’s breathing quickened. You sat on his lap properly now, one leg to each side of his waist, straddling him while cupping his face for another round of passionate kissing.

His kisses found their way down to your neck, gently nipping on your skin, making you shiver and squirm. His fingers started toying with your dress’ straps until he felt confident enough to pull them down slowly.

The black lacy bra you were wearing underneath was beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but the sight of your breasts is what made his mouth water. With your dress already down to your waist, he put his arms around you to try and unhook your bra. As boys normally do, it took him a few tries, but he finally got it off of your body, his hands quickly covering your breasts again, fondling them.

Your skin was so soft and smelled so good, his kisses returned to your neck and continued their way down to your chest. Your nipples were so hard already, he simply had to take them in his mouth. One at a time, he licked and sucked gently, earning some pretty urgent moans. You knew you had to keep the volume down so your mothers wouldn’t hear you two, but that couldn’t stop you from moaning softly, just enough for him to hear. Your body was a feast and he had never been this hungry in his whole life.

- I-I thought it was my turn, Trevor - you said, softly, his lips still kissing the skin around your nipples and his hands groping your waist firmly. Damn, this boy was definitely going to drive you crazy.

Kissing his lips once again, you reached for the hem of his T-shirt and slowly pulled it upwards. He helped you take his shirt off, and his bare chest was surely a sight to be seen. Back to the kissing, your hands now wandered from his cheek, to his neck, to his chest, to his belly and…

- A-are you sure? - he asked, as you were about to touch his belt to unbuckle it. He didn’t want to pressure you into anything.

- I am pretty sure - you said with a smile, playfully kissing his nose. - Can I?

He nodded eagerly, so you unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled them down. Trevor just sat still and watched as your beautifully manicured nails were touching his belt, then his pants, then his underwear.

You knelt down in front of him, using a pillow under your knees for comfort, and pulled his body closer to the edge of the armchair. You kissed his lips one last time, then his neck, scratching his chest lightly with your long nails, causing him to moan and bite his lips to avoid making too much noise.

You kissed down his chest, your nails now scratching his waist, and finally got to his underwear.

- Can I pull these down too? - you said, your big eyes pleading.

- Yeah - he said, barely breathing. - Please.

You gave him a naughty smile and pulled down his boxers. It was impossible not to lick your lips at the sight of that cock. The perfect length, the perfect girth, and that perfect pinky tip begging to be sucked. So you did it.

You took Trevor into your mouth hungrily, as your mouth was already watering just by taking his underwear off. Your head was bobbing up and down his thick shaft, as he tried his best to hold back any louder moans.

Suddenly, he grabbed some of your hair in his right hand and pulled your mouth off of his dick gently.

- Did I hurt you? - you said, looking worried.

- No, no, princess - he answered, scared that he might’ve offended you. - It’s just… you’re so so good… and so pretty… I’m afraid I won’t last, you know?

- It’s ok babe - you reassured him, caressing his bare knee. - You pleasured me selflessly, and I’m doing the same. If you want to cum now, then do it. I’d love to get a taste…

Your mouth went right back to sucking on his dick, your both hands now also added into the mixture. After a minute or two, it was too much for him to take.

- Y/n - he called, softly. You looked him in the eyes, mouth still around his shaft. You knew what was going to happen next. - I just… Please, can I cum in your mouth?

- Mhm - you agreed, not slowing down or stopping anything you were doing.

Trevor let out a muffled groan as he came in your mouth. You swallowed his warm seed at once, gently licking his tip clean afterwards.

- Fuck, you’re a goddess - he said, his voice faint, his eyes rolling.

You laughed a little and wiped the corners of your mouth.

- And you’re a darling. I’m glad you could trust me.

- Y/n - your mom called out from downstairs. - Is the movie over already? I think we should get going…

- In a minute, mom - you yelled in response.

You turned back to Trevor as he handed you your bra and put his own shirt back on.

- I had a great time with you today, Trev. Hope we can hang out sometime.

- Of course, I’ll text you - he started - there are already so many places I thought we could go together… You might just be the best company for basically everything. Specially late night talking.

You grabbed his phone off his desk, typed in your number and handed him the phone. Realizing what you just did, he smiled and held out his hand so you would give him your phone and let him do the same.

After the exchange of phone numbers and a quick good night kiss, you two got downstairs and pretended nothing had happened.

- There you are - Callie said as she saw both of you. - What did you guys watch?

- Friday the 13th - Trevor lied for both of you. - It was her favorite horror movie, and one of my favorites too.

- Aw, how cute. I’m glad you guys are friends now - your mom said, grabbing her purse. - But those old slashers have some awkward sex scenes, don’t they? We heard their moaning from down here.

- Glad they make movies more gory and less sexually charged nowadays, right? - Callie agreed.

Your moms were drunk and probably wouldn’t remember much about tonight. Thankfully, ‘cause your face and Trevor’s got just as flushed as if you had spent the entire night sipping wine.

#finn wolfhard smut #finn wolfhard x reader #mike wheeler x reader #imagine #mike wheeler #miles fairchild #smut #trevor spengler

[01zfan]

consuming the light | o. st

pastors son!shotaro x rich!fem. reader | 8.9k words

went a little overboard with the world building im sorry but i loved this story too much

contains: arranged marriage (not between shotaro and the reader), implied virginity loss, bible study under the guise of fooling around, readers parents are awful, shotaro is the best, ANGSTY, sad ending, oral (fem. receiving), missionary, emotional

sacrilegious masterlist

god was always kind to you. some people called it luck but you knew there was a bigger force behind all the good in your life. you were blessed to say the least. so many people would kill for the life you were born into.

as you walked down the aisle, your thin white veil filtered the colored light coming through the stained glass of the church. it was a veil imported from a place in italy you couldn’t pronounce, and it had beautiful white embroidery that told the story of both you and the man you were going to marry. the symbolism was etched not only into the veil, but also your beautiful dress. the explanation of the stitching had went in one ear and out the other. 

you looked down the aisle to your soon to be husband. with each slow step and each swelling note of the organ you felt like you were walking towards your doom. the light from the stained glass window was artificial, giving the illusion that the rest of your life wouldn’t be drained of color and sunlight.

the sun shined down on you in the form of the pastor’s son. you remember the first day you met him, during a sunday dinner hosted at the church. he helped serve the little kids and you were volunteered to help by your parents. they figured that shotaro could teach you to be kind, something they said you lacked. you weren’t sure if it was true or not, but you were at the age that you believed whatever your parents said. 

the only time you were excited to learn about god was when shotaro became your bible study partner. your parents wanted it more than you did, but you quickly became accustomed to looking at shotaro as he went over bible verses. you barely looked at the passages, eyes trained on his side profile and the way his skin gleamed underneath your kitchen lights. he would look at you as you mouthed latin hymns wrong and blush, knowing that you weren’t paying attention.

you ended up spending more and more time with shotaro outside of the church. he would come over to your house often, gawking at your high ceilings and the maids you had. you learned pretty young that your house was different than everyone else’s. your lifestyle was different, surrounded by custom furniture and large rooms. you would never tell shotaro that you enjoyed going to his house more. his house had food prepared by his parents and his place was cozy and warm. but when shotaro came to your house the cold tile suddenly felt warm underneath your feet, and all you wanted to see was his face when you looked up from your plate at dinner. he took time to learn the names of the people that kept your house up and running, thanking them sincerely when they would bring you fresh cut fruit during your bible study lessons.

your first kiss was with shotaro underneath the big tree in his backyard. you sat on the swing that hung off a large branch and laughed as he pushed you, saying you might end up wrapping around the branch if he kept going. your swings came to a stop and shotaro came to stand in front of you. he looked at you with eyes that reflected the light coming through the trees. you were shy when you said you liked him and the kiss was awkward, lips barely touching before you both pulled away. you both turned away from the other, faces hot and eyes darting everywhere else. shotaro’s hand was hot when he grabbed yours as he walked you home, and he gave you a gentle peck on your cheek when he dropped you off at your door.

from that moment on for more than three years you and shotaro had a relationship of sorts. he would walk you home and hold your hand and look after you. you ended up becoming a regular at church and shotaro started sitting next to you in the pews. no one suspected a thing was going on between you two, sometimes it felt so unreal that you didn’t know what was going on either. you both avoided the topic of defining what you guys had. something about it felt so unholy, like you were straying from the path your god—your parents had carved out for you. you couldn’t resist straying from the path when you first put your tongue in shotaro’s mouth, or when he pulled you to straddle his lap. it was all new for the both of you, learning about passion and fire that burned outside of hell. it was liberating to experience a new emotion and trying to understand it. when you told shotaro how to touch you it was like you finally had control of something in your life.

shotaro had a good head on his shoulders, one that entertained your requests and listened to you. you credited his obedience to the church, thinking about all the sunday school nuns that shaped him into the man you snuck around to see. you knew it was partially credited to his parents. they were different from yours, they had an honest living. you had heard stories of both your fathers growing up together and getting along before they chose different paths in life. your father chose riches over anything, and shotaro’s father chose the path of righteousness. their close relationship in childhood evolved to be something cordial and somewhat awkward, something both you and shotaro bared witness to. you imagine it drove your father crazy seeing someone so honest be just as respected if not more in your town. shotaro’s parents were a important part in the community, maybe even more important than your father. so your parents had built up a fake rapport with shotaro’s parents, one that you’re sure they saw right through. god-fearing people you found out were insanely perceptive. shotaro’s parents didn’t outwardly call out the fraudulence until your parents offered a large donation to the church in exchange for the churches endorsement. 

you still remember the last time you ever saw shotaro. his parents stormed through your house, looking for whichever large room you two resided in. he sat in the nook of your window while you sat beside him, with his face in your hands. his hair blew gently from the spring breeze while you brushed a strand behind his ear. that’s what had become of your bible study, the two of you sneaking away to kiss and look at eachother. 

shotaro sprung up from his spot in the window and you whipped your body around to face the door. it was quiet for a moment, everyone in the room slowly understanding the scene laid out before them. both of your parents stared at the two of you, intruding on an intimate moment. you realized you were caught when your father raised his voice and your mother began screeching. shotaro’s parents were calmer, for some reason that scared you even more.

“we are leaving now, son.” his father said sternly.

shotaro didn’t look at you as he kept his head down, walking towards the door. you were frozen in place, fingernails digging into your knees as you watched shotaro walk away.

you only got one last glance at shotaro as his parents led him out of your room. his father gave one more look to your dad, the scariest look you have ever seen.

shotaro didn’t even make it down the stairs before he heard your parents yelling at you. something about betrayal and risking your lifestyle to sneak around with someone so poor. shotaro and his parents were all shocked. he didn’t get yelled at by his parents, he was sure all the anger they felt for him dissolved into pity. 

you never got the chance to spend much time with him after that day. he became a distant figure in your life. you only caught glimpses of shotaro in the church, running around stretching his hands far to help anyone. you never got the chance to be alone with him ever again, so you were forced to watch him grow up through the church.

you watched shotaro grow into the leader of the youth group, then continue to grow to someone who led sunday service. you watched him get sent off to a private catholic school a couple of towns over. usually it only happened with rich families, but shotaro was a special case. he had wowed the school board and was rewarded a scholarship that allowed him to go. 

as ridiculous as it was, you debated on asking your parents to send you to that school. they were the ones that proposed you go to the expensive school at first, they could’ve afforded it with ease. they insisted you go to make them proud. after the situation with shotaro transpired, making them proud only made you want to deny it more. after spending so much time telling your parents you weren’t going to go to the private school it was too late to go back on your word. so you settled for staying in town. you would just have to wait until school ended so you could see shotaro again. you waited for summer eagerly like all of your peers did, but you had your different reasons. in the back of your head you saw the distant figure of shotaro, coming closer and closer to you as each season passed.

summer was like a movie every year, memories glossy and organic like it was shot on a film camera. the film was different each year—as a child it was bright and saturated, the blue sky popped and the grass shined brightly. the older you got the more muted summers became. you credited it to becoming mature, finally turning into the adult you wanted to be so badly. you made it your plan to become that bad kid your parents called you all those years ago. it wasn’t long before you heard the final bell of school toll. your graduating class ran out in their puritan christian schoolgirl uniforms. the shrill sound of cheers filled the parking lot as everyone took off the cross pendants that adorned all your necks. it was a tradition that started long before you, symbolizing your changing relationship with god. other girls in your class would become closer to him, but you had your plans to abandon him completely.

summers were very important in your town. everyone came home during the summer for the annual congregation at the ocean. it was something like an unofficial holy site, something made up by the elders before the current elders of your congregation. everyone participated in the event, washing away their sins and stress in the holy water of the ocean. it wasn’t an obligation to participate, but everyone had to be there. you saw shotaro there every year, helping take care of the kids and sometimes leading the oceanside service. 

you saw him on the sand, running around with a kid hanging onto his shoulders. you couldn’t help but look and wave at him and he waved back. you wanted him to come to you more than anything. you wanted to tell shotaro that you were an adult now, your parents couldn’t dictate who you spent your time with. even meeting in secret would suffice, but you just had to see him up close again, to have him talk to you. with his parents busy and your parents never coming to the ceremony you could finally get have a word with him. you beckoned to shotaro as you laid underneath your umbrella in the shade. this was the newfound confidence that came with washing away your sins—you were suddenly ready to sin some more. you wanted to whisk shotaro away to the car you had driven here or take him to your empty house. maybe even a secluded part of the oceanfront if he let you.

shotaro came to you after looking bewildered only for a moment. he sat with you underneath the shade of the umbrella, eyes fixed on the changing tides. 

you two both sat in silence, seeing children on the beach run around and adults chatting. it was comforting, being able to be so close to shotaro with so many people around. you put a sandy hand on his knee and shotaro turned his head away from the water to look at you.

”i missed you.” shotaro said.

the way your parents raised you was extremely different from shotaro’s upbringing. it was evident in how you two interacted with eachother. when shotaro had no problem telling you he missed you, you felt sick sometimes even reaching out an affectionate hand to him. the first part of your relationship was like a one sided game of chicken, shotaro had to work hard to whittle down your cold front. but you were older now, a different person who didn’t struggle with that stuff anymore. so you nodded your head and played with the sand some more, trying to distract yourself.

“i missed you, too.” you said.

letting down your walls was worth it when you got to see shotaro smile because of the sweet things you say to him. his hair blew in the light breeze the same way it did that night your parents caught you two. you cast your look down and so does shotaro. his eyes watch your hand as it plays with the sand.

“how are your parents?” shotaro asked.

just as quick as the walls went down, you could feel them go back up. you scoffed and retracted your hand from his knee. shotaro already missed feeling the fine grains of sand that stuck to your palm press against his knee. he turned his head to follow you as he watched you lean back and prop yourself up on a singular fist. with your free hand you moved your shades to rest on your head.

“after all this time the first thing you ask about are my parents.” you said. 

shotaro knew you wanted your words to pack a punch, but you looked distracted as you continued to play with the sand. shotaro could never bring up your parents yelling at you that day, but when he saw you he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about your pained expression when he left your room that final time. shotaro brought a hand to rest on your calf. he squeezed it gently to let you know he was sorry. shotaro felt blessed when he saw you smile. he watches you tilt your head and purse your lips, like you’re trying to think of something.

“wanna get out of here?” you asked.

your hand that was playing in the sand went back to shotaro. you were confusing to him, so shy when it came to affection but still so bold with your words and suggestions. he had trouble believing you were the same girl only a moment ago that could barely say that you missed him. now he was following you towards the parking lot as you headed towards his car.

you led him away from the oceanfront to the parking lot. you bobbed and weaved through cars, going to the familiar dingy shit box shotaro drove. it was almost like you two were robots, neither of you saying a word while shotaro used a slightly shaking hand to unlock his door. shotaro raced to open the passenger door for you, but your hand went to the backdoor instead. you opened it slowly and crawled in, doing your best to give shotaro a view of what he hasn’t seen in months. when you were fully situated in the seat you beckoned to shotaro again. he looked around the parking lot, scanning for anyone watching. once he saw the coast was clear, he went into the backseat too.

you didn’t even let the door close before your lips were on shotaro’s. you wasted no time bringing him in close, swinging your leg over his. shotaro welcomed it, hand going to your hip and your leg. your hands on his shoulder gripped his shirt. he didn’t 

it wasn’t hard to channel all your frustrations and pent up emotions into shotaro. you kissed him with a fierceness, pressing your lips to his quickly. you saw shotaro’s eyes become hooded when you started sucking on his bottom lip.

it took shotaro a moment to get into it. the fear of being caught melted off his shoulders when you brought his hand to rest on your chest. he squeezed the flesh he hadn’t been able to touch in so long, knowing exactly what you needed. when you brought your hand to his clothed dick, he had to pull away.

“we shoudn’t.” shotaro said against your lips.

“i waited a whole year. i can’t wait anymore.” you said. 

shotaro wanted to give in to you so bad. he wanted to make you feel good in the back of his beat up car. but he thought about how you deserved something special in a place that was more private. so shotaro resisted the temptation and took both your hands and put them back at your sides.

shotaro was lucky he practiced restraint, because as he pulled away from you he saw your parents leave their parked car heading for the beach. he pulled away from your lips, visibly distracted.

“what’s wrong?” you asked.

“your parents are heading towards the ocean.” shotaro said.

you crawled over him to see for yourself. sure enough your parents were walking towards the water, weaving through the cars the same way you were. you clambered over shotaro the rest of the way, ignoring his grunts as you opened the door. you were much more rushed, running through the cars trying to find a way back to your spot before your parents got there. shotaro followed behind you, going back to what he was doing before he sat by you.

you had to act as nonchalant as possible when your saw your parents see you. you kept your eyes on shotaro, letting him distract you from your impeding doom coming a step closer. shotaro gave you one last smile before your parents came and stood directly in your line of sight. they blocked your view of your sun. they stood before you like a wall separating you from shotaro. you tried to peer around their bodies but it was no use. your mother waved her hands in front of you to get your attention. you put your sunglasses on top of your head to look at them fully. they wore their usual business attire, they came from whatever meeting to come straight here. it was painfully obvious your parents weren’t going to stay there for long.

“hello honey.” your mom said to you. “congratulations on finishing the school year.”

you stayed seated underneath the umbrella. it was so annoying trying to keep up appearances. your parents were highly regarded in the town, being the second richest family and the only ones with strong political ties. you don’t know if it was because of the money or the status that made your parents so distant. you lived with them your whole lives but knew nothing about them. you were closer with the various nannies you had in your life, ones that would mysteriously quit when you referred to them as mom. 

your relationship with your parents was strained to say the least. after they degraded you and shotaro for hours on end that day the chasm between the three of you only deepened. your relationship had devolved from a mutual respect to a silent agreement that you would behave and be the dutiful daughter you had to be as long as they funded your lifestyle. this included beautiful sunglasses, gorgeous gowns, and extravagant parties. beyond the cash they threw at you they were barely parents, never knowing anything about your life. but them congratulating you on graduating was the first thing they have said to you in weeks, so you pursed your lips and nodded curtly.

“thank you.” you said.

you saw shotaro’s parents walk by and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at them. your relationship with the couple had become strained too. you wished more than anything to feel the warmth of their home again, to be able to say a word to their son again. your parents noticed your attention had shifted, so your dad cleared his throat loudly.

“let’s go home. we have some very exciting news to share with you.” your dad said.

so you went on an awkward and silent car ride home with your parents. they never picked you up, much less drove you places. the pit in your stomach started growing and you could practically feel an ominous dark cloud appearing over your head. your parents said nothing for the rest of the car ride, letting your mind wander to the worst scenarios.

you weren’t sure what was happening when you opened your door to see a man and his parents sitting on the sofa in your living room, chatting about something. the man got up almost immediately and you were taken aback by the person standing in front of you. he wore the nicest clothes you’ve ever seen and had his hair primmed and proper. you felt extremely underdressed compared to him. you were still modest in your beach outfit, but the man in front of you was wearing clothes of a professional.

you were stunned into silence seeing the man stand before you, and even more stunned at how everyone in your living room was staring at you expectantly. you realized that you were the left out of the loop, completely in the dark about the situation at hand. you look to your parents for the answers.

“what’s going on?” you asked them.

“have a seat honey.” your dad said.

your parents looked at you expectantly and you sat down. although you were defiant, you were still a dutiful daughter, one that listened. that’s why you sat down and listened to your parents while they told you why the family was in your home.

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing as your parents told you about your future marriage. the man in front of you was the son of the richest family in town. you could tell by the way your dad’s eyes shined when talking about the family that they were richer than you could comprehend. ties with the money stronger than anything else. you visibly stiffened hearing it, before you could object your dad held up a finger to silence you. you blinked away tears as both your parents and the man’s attorney told you the conditions of the marriage. apparently everything had already been planned out and decided while you didn’t know a single thing. you weren’t able to get a word in until they were done. you looked around the room, everyone smiling as if it was the best plan in the world.

“what if i say no?” you said quietly.

“we cut you off.” your father said simply. 

you looked down at your hands, clasped together in your lap. you would’ve never thought you’d be married off to someone you barely knew. your mother had been lucky in that aspect; she got to marry your father who was a family friend. but you had never seen the man that sat next to you on the couch in your entire life. your family was rich to the point this didn’t need to happen. you looked to your mom and dad, the looks on their face told you trying to persuade them out of this was no use. at the feeling of the man’s hand on your shoulder it lit a fire in your belly, a defiant one that had you shrugging his arm off of you.

you stood up from the couch and you locked eyes with your father. your mom instantly resorted to protecting her integrity, looking at the man’s family with her smiling face and customer service voice.

“we will see you guys at the party tonight. thank you for stopping by.”

your mother shuffled the man and his family out while you stayed there staring down your father. he didn’t relent or say a single thing until the door closed.

“i refuse.” you seethed.

“you don’t have a choice.” you father said. 

you wanted to yell at him, but you knew it was no use. your mind flashed to shotaro and the way his hair would blow in the nook of your room when the window was open.

“we already have the money. we don’t need to marry into more of it.” you pleaded.

for the first time in your life, you made your father laugh. to the point where he nearly had tears coming from his eyes. he laughed the whole day, only laughing more after seeing anger take over your features. he laughed as your anger turned into defeat. his laughs rang in your ears for the days to come, turning you into the shell of the person you once were. you had lost all defiance in your body, finally becoming the compliant daughter he always wanted.

when the party came, you had no energy left in you to say snarky remarks or roll your eyes. you had become unassertive, nodding your head and saying a meek yes whenever asked a question. you could only look ahead, focusing on random paintings hung to the walls as you heard your father pretend to get choked up talking about how he will be walking his daughter down the aisle. 

you imagined seeing shotaro across the room, having him come up to you and whisk you away to a secret place for just the two of you. when you danced in the ballroom you imagined shotaro expertly blending with the crowd, dancing with you and telling you the plan to escape. he’d squeeze your hand extra tight before heading towards the exit. you wondered if he had heard the news yet, how he felt about it. when you thought too much about him your eyes started to water and the lump in your throat got bigger. you needed a place to cry, what better place than the nook in your room where you last felt love. you were able to finally sneak away after severable feeble attempts, exiting through a door in the kitchen.

shotaro was able to sneak into the party after being let in by staff that liked him. he wandered around the party, scared to be caught by your parents, knowing it would lead to him getting kicked out. once shotaro realized that your parents were too invested in talking to the esteemed guests of the party not sparing him a second look, he walked freely around the party. he realized quickly that this wasn’t a celebration thrown for you, but just another opportunity for your parents to make money.

shotaro felt himself fall apart when he opened the door to your room. he heard you first, the quiet sniffling drowning out the sound of your door opening.

you got up from the nook in your bedroom window to turn towards your door, getting ready to yell at whoever came in. you melted seeing shotaro, the tears you were holding back flowing freely. it was like no time had passed between the two of you, a whole school year of no contact dissolving into the air as you held out your arms to him. 

shotaro sat beside you and held you as you cried into his lap. he was patting your back and rubbing your head, comforting you anyway he could. shotaro kept telling you it’s okay a million times over like it might fix the current situation. he realized he had no idea what to say to you, only that he felt tears threatening his own eyes as he thought more and more about you. when you finally pulled away, makeup you had cried off stained his black pants.

“i’m sorry.” you hiccuped.

shotaro shook his head immediately.

“i should be the one that’s sorry,” shotaro said. ”i should’ve never left”

you sniffle to sit back up and look at him. 

“i figured if i got a good education your parents would view me favorably.” shotaro said. 

shotaro used the corner of his sleeve to blot away some of your ruined makeup. it was no use as your eyes swelled again, tears running down your cheeks. shotaro saw a cold resolve settle across your face. you looked up to shotaro, forcing his eyes to hold contact with your bloodshot ones.

“my whole life my parents have acted like god, and you left me just so you could try to please them?” you said quietly.

shotaro wished you sounded angry when you asked the question. he actively watched the fire burn out from behind your eyes, replaced with the same cold look shotaro saw on your fathers features. your perfect posture had devolved into you slumping against him. he couldn’t stop his hands from levitating to your face, trying to warm you up with his clammy hands. 

the feeling of shotaro’s hands were lost on you, eyes steely as you looked ahead. you quickly found out it didn’t matter, nothing did. even if you blew up and cursed at shotaro for wanting to please your parents instead of pleasing you it wouldn’t change your fate. if you kicked shotaro out and cried in your bed alone you would still be walking down the aisle tomorrow to a man you didn’t even know. atleast with your head pressed to shotaro’s chest you could hear his heart pound in his chest a thousand miles a minute and feel his hands wrapped around your body. the possibility of never feeling this close to anyone ever again hit you like a javelin in your stomach. it made you want to double over in pain, it felt like you were losing your breath as you held shotaro’s hand tightly.

“what am i supposed to do?” you asked.

shotaro didn’t have the answers for you as you looked up at him. in your eyes he could see new tears welling and taking the same path down your cheeks.  your eyelashes clumped together from the tears and you were starting to be reduced to sniffles. 

you could see shotaro’s eyes go blank and you realized he didn’t have an answer for you. your blurry eyes travelled to every part of his body, trying to find the answer there. you look at his black hair, the way it falls right above his eyes. every time he blinks his strands move, his hair is practically dancing as he tries to blink away tears. your eyes go to shotaro’s hands, how they grips yours so tightly that you don’t want to let go. you wonder if he will use those same hands to pray for your marriage and future that starts tomorrow. you like that you can still feel his heart beat, how it increased when you looked him in the eyes for too long.

“do you love me, shotaro?” you ask.

shotaro is happy that he knows the answer to this question—he has for a long time. he brushes a piece of hair behind your ear before going back to blot the tear tracks on your cheeks. he nods gently looking into your eyes.

“i love you more than you’ll ever know.” shotaro says quietly. 

its a quiet declaration of love as he wipes your tears away. your hand on his bicep tightens. the somber look in your eyes is replaced with a desperate one as you bring yourself from his chest to look shotaro in the eyes. 

“can you show me. please.”

shotaro could actively feel his reserves melting away the longer he looked at you. he recognized that look on your face from the countless times you two snuck away to fool around. you guys never did something when there was more than your housekeepers around. festivities from the party travelled upstairs and bled through the door. all it took was one single person to walk in and see you two. but you increased your grip on shotaro’s bicep as you readjusted yourself on the ledge. shotaro gave one last glance to your door. he remembered that he locked it after he came in. he put his other hand to rest behind you as he leaned in close. his eyes alternated between your lips and your eyes, looking for any doubt or hesitancy.

“are you sure?” shotaro asked.

he felt your hand go down to his wrist as you spread your legs. your beautiful dress rode up past your thigh as you led shotaro’s hand to your heat. his eyes grew wide but you kept your voice steady.

“this is the one time in my life i get to make the decision,” you pressed shotaro’s palm flat to your panties, letting him feel the heat. “i’ve been sure about this for a very long time.”

that was all shotaro needed. he used his other hand that was rested behind you to tilt your head, exposing your neck to him. shotaro lets his lips graze the skin of your neck, loving the way you shiver beside him. he presses his hand further into you, and you let out a sigh as you lean into him.

“i’ll let you make all the decisions tonight.” shotaro whispers into your neck.

it is sexual but it’s comforting to see how easy it is for shotaro to understand what you need. he gives you the reigns and the ability to be god on your last night of freedom. you nod your head immediately while pushing your hips to meet shotaro’s hand. he uses the heel of his palm to press against your clothed clit and his finger pushes into you. your hand, searching for something to hold, goes to your window blinds.

shotaro brings your face down to his to bring you into a kiss. the moonlight shines on you both through the window as he uses his free hand to guide the back of your neck deeper into him. shotaro lets his tongue graze your teeth before you open your mouth wider. his tongue presses against your cheek before finding your tongue, loving the feeling your your wet muscles touching. it is messy, so messy that a string of spit connects your mouths when shotaro pulls away.

“where do you want me?” shotaro asks.

it takes you awhile to find your voice again. you feel almost nervous being in charge, but shotaro rotating his hand to palm you makes your anxiety fall off your shoulders.

“on the bed.” you say.

shotaro stands up first, reluctantly pulling his hand away from your core to help you stand up from the nook. you already feel weak in the knees as shotaro leads you to your bed, a gentle hand on your back as you guys make your way across your marble floor. it’s almost like a dance, you two move in beat to the music that plays downstairs.

shotaro pulls back the canopy surrounding your bed so you can go through. you sit in the middle of your alaskan king bed, almost swallowed by the plushies and blankets that surround you. shotaro lets the curtains close as he continues to stand next to your bed. you stare at the outline of his body illuminated by the yellow glow of lamps in your room.

“do you want me to take off my clothes?” shotaro asks. 

you dig your feet underneath a blanket as you think. shotaro stands outside patiently, waiting for your order.

“just your pants and shirt,” you see shotaro reach for the waistband of his pants. “leave your underwear on.” you blurt out.

shotaro pauses only for a moment while he takes in his request. you can hear him laugh and see the shadow of him undressing himself. you take off your underwear and attempt to take off your dress but the zipper is out of your reach. 

you don’t let shotaro see you struggle to reach the zipper when he pulls back the drapes of your canopy. he looks at you and you move over slightly, as if there’s not enough room on the bed for the both of you. shotaro settles in next to you and goes back to the same position you were at sitting on the nook. you let your hands run over his upperbody, eyes looking at the bulge in his boxers. shotaro lets out a small sound of surprise when his hand presses to your bare pussy.

“so wet.” shotaro murmurs to himself.

you nod your head and lift your hips slightly while shotaro presses his palm against your clit again. the on and off presses has you gasping and closing your legs around his hand. shotaro has to use the hand that was guiding you through the make out session to apply pressure on your leg in efforts to keep them apart.

“do you want me to do this to you all night?” shotaro says in between kisses on your neck.

you have lost half your mind at this point. you shake your head trying to gather what’s left of your thoughts. you remember the sensation of shotaro’s fingers pressing into you over your panties.

“put a finger in.” you say.

shotaro obliges immediately, your wet hole giving no resistance. it has both of you moaning, the sensation new to the both of you.

“another.” you moan quietly.

when shotaro puts his second finger completely in, he does a scissoring motion inside of you. it is foreign but builds up a heat in your stomach and you can hear the tiny squelching of shotaro’s fingers interacting with your slick. you instinctively close your eyesdig your fingernails into his shoulder.

“feels good?” shotaro asks.

he kisses your eyelid and you nod your head yes. your hips feel like they’re lifting on their own accord, trying to feel more of shotaro’s fingers.

because your eyes are closed you don’t see shotaro more his body to slot between your two legs. when you no longer feel his warmth next to you, your eyes open. you see shotaro in a position you’ve never seen him in before, on his stomach as he lifts up your dress just enough to uncover your lower half. you let your upper body lower, until your propped up on your elbows. you keep an eye on shotaro and he keeps an eye on you, placing wet open mouthed kisses on your thighs. he was dangerously close to your center, a new wave of your slick coating his fingers. the speed of shotaro’s fingers was cruel and slow. you couldn’t stop your hips from bucking into his hand at a faster pace. each time you did so, shotaro’s palm grazed your clit.

“can i try something on you?” shotaro asked. he continued to place tender kisses on the hot skin of your thigh. “i heard people talking about it at my school and i could only think of you when i heard it.”

”okay.” you whined.

shotaro pulled one of his fingers out of you and you whine dagain at the loss. he used his free hand to push your thigh towards your stomach and placed an open mouthed kiss on your folds. your elbows suddenly slid out from underneath you, the new sensation making your back hit your bed with a soft thud. you focused on the canopy of your bed, the royal red and gold fabric that cascaded down your bed. it was one of the many signs of wealth in your life. you would give it up in a heartbeat to feel shotaro between your legs everyday.

shotaro looked up at you from between your legs, only getting a glimpse of your heaving chest. your boobs rested so nicely in your dress, and your pretty whimpers made him want to continue kissing your folds. shotaro was surprised seeing all of his peers at school so sinful, performing acts on each other that would send a pastor into cardiac arrest. but he understood why they did those things when he got his first taste of you. you were sweet and coated his tongue, he found himself needing more. 

you placed your legs over shotaro’s shoulders as his hand that was holding your thigh went to spread your pussy lips. he was licking whatever you body would give him earnestly, wrapping his lips around your clit before sucking. this had you pressing your head into the pillows and closing your thighs around his head. 

you got back on one of your elbows to wrap your hand in shotaro’s hair. you used the grip you had on his locks to push your further into your heat, mouth agape while you rode his tongue. you would’ve apologized sincerely in the moment for being so greedy, but you could make out shotaro’s smile in your dimly lit room. your hand pushed him further into your heat, his finger and tongue moving in tandem.

“shotaro.” you moaned.

shotaro looked up at you from in between your legs, humming into your pussy. your thighs pressed around his head again.

“keep going.” you said.

shotaro hummed again before focusing his eyes back on your heat. his speed picked up, the sucking and the licking and the kissing quickly became too much for you. shotaro pulled away his mouth to piston his two fingers into you again, wanting to see your face as you finished around him. the eye contact is what sent you over the edge and what made shotaro almost cum in his pants. your walls closing in on shotaro’s fingers almost made it impossible for him to move his digits. he kept going driven by the sound of his name falling from your lips.

by the time you came back to earth, your back was pressed into the mattress again and you were sure your head would leave an indent in the pillow. you looked down from your spot, shotaro looked down at you in amazement. your dress was haphazardly pushed push past your hips and your legs had folded in on themselves without shotaro keeping them apart. your hair was already sticking to your forehead from the sweat and you felt like you looked insane. shotaro looked at you like you were god in the flesh. maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to get on his knees for you.

you used the last of your strength to push yourself back up, eye level with shotaro who was resting on his haunches. you looked down at his boxers again. his dick twitched underneath the thin cotton layer, and you swore you could see a patch of wetness on the fabric. 

you turned your body around, showing the zipper of your dress to shotaro.

“help me with the zipper.” you said. 

any authority in your voice was replaced with raspiness. you had to clear your throat as shotaro slowly brought the zipper down your body. shotaro helped you out of your dress without asking, pulling your arms out and letting the dress fall to your stomach. hiss hands went to the clasp of your bra, waiting for you to tell him to help you with that as well.

“bra too, please.” you said.

it was the same process, him helping you out of it before tossing it to the end of the bed. shotaro slowly turned you back around, guiding you back down on the bed. shotaro gently takes off your dress and you lift your hips to help him.

when you are fully naked you hike up your legs, making your knees touch to cover up your heat. shotaro lets you cover yourself up, a gentle hand resting on your knee. your eyes keep drifting down to his boxers, and you put a gentle foot to rest on his dick. shotaro instantly hisses from the contact and he bucks up into your foot. shotaro’s action surprises you both. 

“fuck.” shotaro says breathlessly.

“take your boxers off.” you say while moving your feet.

shotaro tipped forward on the bed to hover his body over yours. you could see his dick springing free, bobbing around before sticking straight forward.

shotaro kept his body above yours waiting for your next order. you saw how angry and red his tip was, how it seemed to be aching.

“touch yourself.” you said quietly.

shotaro wrapped his hand around his dick and began pumping slowly. it was the same pace he had when fingering you, slow and controlled. the power you had over shotaro in that moment went straight to your head. he let out puffs of air as he continued to touch himself. you wrapped your arms around him and brought him closer to you, until your foreheads were touching. shotaro kissed your lips and you preened you neck to give him better access.

“i want it inside.” you whispered to shotaro.

shotaro’s hand let go of his length and went to your hips. his fingers were sticky as he pressed them into your skin.

“are you sure?” shotaro asked.

“don’t ask me that.” you said.

shotaro kissed your eyebrows that furrowed. he apologized before bringing his hips close to yours. you instantly forgave him when you felt his tip prod against your entrance. 

“ready?” shotaro asked.

you nodded your head and he brought your lips in for another kiss before sliding in. it was little to no resistance, but your walls wrapped around him all the same. you were basically sucking in shotaro until he bottomed out, both of you letting out moans at the feeling of him completely inside of you.

“keep going.” you whined against shotaro’s lips.

he didn’t have to be told twice before pulling out and thrusting into you again. your hips touched each time, causing you to wrap a leg around shotaro’s waist. his forehead still rested against yours, the sweat on both of your skin keeping you together. shotaro let his eyes wander down to your chest, watching your breasts move with his thrusts. you while body reacted to him, from your eyes all the way down to your feet. it gave shotaro the drive and energy behind his thrusts. he would fuck you like this all night if you’d let him. he used both of his hands to hold your cheeks, separating your foreheads to press kisses all over your face. your sweat and some tears stuck to his lips, you were all over him. shotaro kept a hand on your face as he looked down where you were swallowing him up with ease. 

“can i—” shotaro started.

“yes.” you whined.

shotaro used his hand to unwrap one of your legs and put it over his arm. this new angle made it feel like shotaro was splitting you down the middle. you cried and pressed your hands to his chest, feeling the taut muscle underneath his skin.

“shotaro.” you cried out. 

shotaro went back in, somehow even deeper than before.

“i know. i know.” shotaro cooed. 

he had to put his body upright to get a better angle, but he still found himself folding over to kiss your face. his other hand that wasn’t holding up your leg held your hand. he could tell you were trying so hard to keep your eyes open for him, but pleasure was taking over.you squeezed his hand each time he hit a part deep inside of you. shotaro was taken aback at how you looked so pretty like this, laid out for him. he wished it was him that would have your hand tomorrow.

“you should run away with me.” shotaro said in between thrusts. 

your eyes snapped open and you clamped around him. shotaro smiled and leaned over again to kiss new tears that had fallen.

“okay.” you moaned.

it was hard to remember what you were agreeing to. you just wanted shotaro to keep hitting that spot that was deep inside of you.

“we can get married and live in a cute little place, yeah?” shotaro said. 

his pace was picking up and you didn’t know what was happening anymore. you were slowly losing control of your body, driven by the steady sound of your thighs slapping shotaro’s skin. he let go of your leg to fuck you in missionary, pressing his chest so close to yours it kept your boobs in place.

“i love you.” shotaro whispered in your ear.

you brought your nails down shotaro’s back, your legs wrapped around his waist brought him closer. the tears had started to come out more aggressively, you could feel the warm trail down the sides of your face.

”i love you too.” you silently cried.

you pressed your head into shotaro’s neck as he kissed your temple. his arms went behind your back like he was holding you, and he was driving his hips deeper and harder into you. your moans had turned into high pitched cries. you didn’t have to say you were close, both you and shotaro knew. he also knew that he should pull out now, but you kept your legs wrapped around his waist as you started moving your hips to meet his.

“inside. please.” you whispered.

shotaro came immediately once you told him to. it came out in thick ropes while your walls milked his dick. even in his haze of euphoria, shotaro brought a hand to your clit to stimulate the bundle of nerves. your back arches off the bed as you came around him. you couldn’t stop the high octave sounds from escaping you, and shotaro wouldn’t have it any other way. he was letting out pathetic sounds himself, whining and whimpering your name underneath your canopy. 

shotaro didn’t pull out until he had gone soft, both of you shivering from the odd sensation. he rolled off of you and brought you close to him, arms wrapping around your body like he was giving you a hug. you started crying into shotaro’s chest and he rubbed your back, telling you it was going to be okay.

you and shotaro stayed awake well after the party was over. you spent your time tracing out his palm with your fingers before clasping your hand over his, clasping your hands together a million different ways to make sure he was really there. you kept your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat drum against your ear as shotaro gave you forehead kisses. the canopy around your bed gave you semblance of privacy, keeping your naked bodies partially hidden through thin draping. the longer you stayed in that position the less you cared if someone walked in—maybe your soon-to-be husband would walk in and call off the marriage immediately. if your parents banished you and wrote you out your inheritance so be it. but you knew shotaro would never forgive himself if you lost your stability in life because of him. maybe you two would find a way around your marriage. rich people committed adultery all the time. 

neither of you said a word until you saw that the sun was beginning to rise. it was an awful feeling seeing the lamps in your room be outshined by the sun because it meant that the day was here. you would lose your last name and any freedom your parents allowed you would be under scrutiny by your husband. you weren’t marrying the one you truly loved, the one whose heartbeat increased against your ear. shotaro began gently rubbing your arm, trying to comfort you as soon as possible. but you were out of tears as you raised your head to look at him. you moved some of shotaro’s hair out of his face. you wish he could stay with you forever

“they’ll be here soon to get me ready for the wedding.” you said.

shotaro wanted to stay too. the way he hesitated before sitting up and kissing your hand that stayed near his face. he put on his clothes slowly, looking around for garments that were right in front of him. you stayed perched on your bed, watching the love of your life solemnly get ready to leave you forever. 

when shotaro was done he went to the nook, leaning over to open the window and take out the screen. you rolled out of bed and threw on your robe that hung from a pillar on your bed. you tied it tight while walking over to shotaro who was preparing himself to exit through the window.

“are you sure?” you asked, peering out the window. 

the drop wasn’t too bad, but it was a drop regardless. if shotaro hurt himself you don’t know what you would do. shotaro smiled and looked down himself. he turned to you and nodded.

“i can make it.” shotaro said. 

he took one last look at your room, seeing all the knick knacks you have collected over the years chaotically placed everywhere. your room was the only place in your house that didn’t feel sterile like a hospital or made him nervous. it was comforting the same way you were. shotaro couldn’t believe this was the last time he’d be in your room. he looked at your desk and the calendar that was above it, seeing ‘shotaro day’ in big bold letters two days ago. 

“will you be alright?” shotaro asked. 

you nodded, because that’s all you could do.

“i’ll find a way.” you said simply.

“we’ll find a way,” shotaro said. “your staff likes me, i’m sure they’ll tell me when i can get you alone.”

shotaro gave you one more longing kiss before moving out of your window. you had to look away when shotaro lowered himself from your windowsill, getting his body as close as possible to the ground. you wanted to grab his hands and pull him back up and beg him to stay with you. but you had to watch him drop down into the flowerbed on the backside of your house, perfectly fine from the fall.

shotaro gave you one last look and waved goodbye. you had to bite your lip to hold yourself back from yelling his name as he walked away.

sacrilegious masterlist

#01zfan: shotaro #seriez: sacrilegious #shotaro smut #riize smut

[euseokz]

can you write friends to lovers smut for anton where they have crazy sexual tension pls🙏🏼💗

@ anton — we both want each other, why can’t we just let things go with the flow ? . cws : unprotected sex. creampie . slight size kink . big dick anton . wc : 2.0k+ . genre : smut

a/n : i hope this aligns with what you wanted nonnie ! somehow i always find myself only writing best-friend! anton whenever i write for him, and for some reason, i love it ! i just think he fits this trope so well 😮‍💨

BEST-FRIEND! ANTON who you’ve always shared some sort of sexual tension with, but that neither of you has ever acted on because you have always been afraid of what would happen if you did.

you knew it all. knew how he looked at you, how he’d look you up and down when you got more dressed up and get that little smirk on his lips, how he liked having a hand on your waist when you were in public not only in a protective way, but also because he liked to touch you, liked when people thought you were his. you knew when he was horny too, how his eyes would turn darker and his lips would twist into a sort of cocky smile, and you also knew what made him horny, what words you used and what touches you left on him that made him want to fuck you.

anton also knew all about you, you had each other all figured out, and still, somehow, had never fucked, because you were still afraid due to all the what if’s. what if that ended your friendship? what if one wanted something casual but the other wanted a proper relationship? what if having sex would completely ruin your dynamic and make things awkward? there were just too many possibilities, so you never acted on it — until it finally got to be too much and you did.

you had gone over to anton’s apartment, his roommates loudly talking about something in the next room while you two laid on his bed, close to each other but not as close as you actually wanted to be, having a conversation about whatever came up. you could feel anton’s gaze on you, almost burning into your skin. you had borrowed some clothes from him, a hoodie and a pair of shorts, something about wanting a more comfy outfit to wear instead of the one you had worn all day, and it was driving him insane. anton’s eyes couldn’t leave you, obsessed with how good his clothes looked on you, with how his already baggy hoodie looked baggier on your body, and how his shorts that usually ran just around his knees went down lower on you. you looked so good in his clothes it made him completely lose his mind, getting to a point where he was barely even listening and processing what you were saying and just ogling you. it should be uncomfortable, but somehow it also turned you on, knowing the sight of you was too much for him, that he couldn’t focus on anything but you.

maybe if you hadn’t burrowed his clothes things wouldn’t have developed the way they did, or maybe they would but it would’ve just taken a bit longer, but once you caught anton’s eyes stuck on your body for the nth time you decided you had enough, tired of being cautious and simply deciding that enough was enough, that you needed to be bold, which was what led you to blurt out the next words that came out of your mouth as if they were nothing.

“you should just fuck me if you’re gonna continue looking at me like that”

it took a moment for anton to register your words. was he hallucinating? was that the next stage of the level of horniness he was experiencing? he didn’t know, so he looked at you, a surprised but confused look spread across his features. you repeated the question, and this time he knew it was real, that he wasn’t hearing or imagining things, you had actually told him he should fuck you. his immediate response was to jump on you, but he held himself back, only turning more towards you instead, now being on his side while you still laid back against his pillows, asking you through an all too shy tone if you were sure, his shyness ridiculous taking into account his actions up until that point.

“i wouldn’t propose it if i wasn’t” you replied, a smug smile on your lips, and that was when anton finally let his instincts win and jumped on you, kissing you harder than he had ever kissed someone, cupping your cheeks in his hands with so much strength it made you wonder if he was afraid you’d slip away or vanish into thin air. his lips felt good against yours, the way he sucked on your bottom lip making you mewl against him, a small smirk curling the corners of anton’s mouth because of it. he wanted you to be as into it as him, wanted you to want him to fuck you as much as he did, so he moved on top of you, both hands still cupping your cheeks while one of his knees moved to separate your legs, pressing against your covered middle softly, just hard enough to elicit another small moan to slip past your lips and into his. he started moving it, drawing it in small circles and making sure to start pressing more and more into you, until you were whimpering against him relentlessly, wordlessly begging for more until you finally spoke up, your voice much whinier this time as you told him to just fuck you — and because anton wasn’t one to ever deny you anything, he did, not much time separating the last kiss you shared and the moment you finally found yourselves naked and with him pushing himself into you for the first time.

your pussy was absolutely soaked by then, all thanks to anton’s continuous teasing, making the job of thrusting into you somewhat easier, even if you still struggled a bit to take him fully. anton swore he would cum as soon as he bottomed out solely based on the wondrous feeling of your pussy clenching around him as he dragged his cock languidly into you, getting lost in how you wrapped around him so well, so tightly, a warm feeling surrounding his length, making his brain grow fuzzy with pleasure.

you just looked too good underneath him. your face was twisted into an expression of pure pleasure, brows furrowed and lips parted in a perfect “o” shape, moaning as he started to slowly pull out, giving you time to adjust. you felt as if anton was splitting you open, his cock so thick it barely fit inside you, stretching you out as much as you could take while still feeling good, the initial weird uncomfortableness eventually passing by as he kept moving, keeping his pace slow and steady, wanting to give you time to adjust, being patient because the last thing he wanted was to accidentally hurt you. your pussy looked so good taking him though, swallowing him and wrapping around him so snuggly, making anton wince in pleasure. both your gazes were focused on it, on how your cunt was taking him, each thrust making anton’s cock glisten more with your slick, the visible veins running up and down his length throbbing in anticipation for the moment he would be able to start fucking you properly.

in an attempt to help relax you even more, anton leaned down for another kiss, his hair falling over his eyes as he pressed his lips against yours. this kiss is softer, sweeter, just as needy as the ones you shared previously but not as fast paced. anton wanted to treasure the moment, live it to the fullest and have every second of it imprinted in his brain, afraid of ever forgetting the first time he ever truly had you in his arms. he held you closer, still kissing you, sucking on your tongue while slightly speeding up his thrusts, testing how well you’d take it — and as expected, you excelled, moaning into the kiss and clamping down around him harder, eventually breaking apart from him, wanting to scream anton’s name but suddenly remembering his roommates were still in the room next door, so you couldn’t. instead though, you pressed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and whimpering about good it felt, about how good his big dick felt stretching you out, fucking you so well, better than anyone ever had. your words affected anton, making him moan, rolling his eyes back in pleasure while changing his posture, hoisting himself higher by placing his hands by either side of your head, picking up his pace and moving more swiftly, by now already able to build up a quicker pace with how well your pussy was taking him.

“you drive me crazy, you know that, right?” he asked, eyes locked on yours, his tone more unstable than usual. you nodded, your expression flustered as you brought him back to you, wrapping both arms around his neck and lacing both of your legs around his waist, holding him in place, wanting to feel anton’s wide frame pressed against yours, his weight on top of you comforting in a way. he also embraced you, reaching behind you and hugging you close, his hands interlocking it’s fingers behind your head and holding you up so your face was close to his, forcing you to maintain the eye contact as he continued fucking you, moving faster, more precisely, reaching deep inside you with his cock, his tip kissing your cervix softly with every thrust. anton felt like he was in heaven — you both did, so lost in each other that nothing else mattered, only able to focus on looking at one another and feeling how good you both made each other feel. it was all too much, too intense, so when anton blurted out his next words without even thinking twice, neither of you reacted as if they were odd for him to say.

“i love you” he told you, his tone sincere and his voice steadier this time, as if he was determined to say it in a way that would let you know he was being truthful. you only kissed him, pressing your lips against this desperately and bringing him as close to you as humanly possible, pulling away for a second just to say those three words back to him, your voice whinier than his, but still just as honest.

anton’s thrusts continued steady, dragging in and out of you deliciously, reaching that sweet spot inside you that made an invisible knot start forming in your lower stomach, growing tighter, ready to snap at any moment. you were both close, so through his low groans, with his lips still pressed closed to yours, anton asked if he could cum inside, if he could fill you up with his cum, and you, in your hazy state, said yes, asking for it, his thrusts growing rougher for a second until you were both reaching your orgasms. anton’s came first, his thrusts starting to get sloppier but not completely losing their pace as he kept going while his cock twitched inside you, shooting creamy strings of warm cum inside you, painting your insides white — that feeling being exactly what finally ignited your own high, one loud moan leaving your lips when it hit before anton was pulling you in for yet another kiss, trying to silence you as you both reveled in your own pleasures, whining into one another as he started slowing down, eventually finally coming to a halt with his dick still buried deep inside you. you both felt at cloud nine, beginning to come back to your senses and finally realizing what you had admitted to in the middle of your sex-induced, foggy states, pleasure having clouded your thoughts throughout the whole thing and making you bolder than usual apparently.

“did you mean it?” anton began, his voice soft as he pressed his forehead to you, both your eyes closed while you still held each other close. “when you said you loved me?”

you hummed in agreement, deciding to be honest, nervous when you asked if he did too. anton replied that yes, he did, both of you smiling at that moment, giggling before sharing another kiss, this one more intimate, as if you were making a promise to each other to stop avoiding your feelings, and to finally lean into them, to let yourselves be together like you had been wanting for so long.

#! . . 📝 #anton lee #anton #lee chanyoung #riize #riize anton #anton smut #anton lee smut #riize smut #lee chanyoung smut #anton x reader #anton x y/n #anton x you #riize x reader #riize x you #riize x y/n #riize anton smut #anton imagines #anton scenarios #anton drabbles #anton hard hours #anton fanfic #anton fic #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize hard hours #riize hard thoughts #riize fanfic #riize fics #riize anton x reader

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 1.5

1.1 | 1.2 | 1.3 | 1.4 | [here]

ahhh!! the final part of chapter one! hope the wait was worth it <3 i’ll be posting the full chapter on ao3 tonight, so look out for a post with that link! i’ll also start a master post that i’ll pin to the top of my blog later. eventually. it’s on my to-do list.

i’ll start posting chapter 2 sometime in jan/feb, depending on when i fjnish writing chapter 3, which i’m about a third done with!

happy christmas! i hope everyone enjoys the final part to chapter one!

Steve hadn’t received a response from Eddie, but he wasn’t really expecting one anyway. He sipped his chai and checked the time every minute or so, and even though it felt like he’d been waiting for ages, only a few minutes had passed when a man walked into the café. He had long, dark curly hair, that was in a messy bun. He was wearing a grey band shirt with ripped black skinny jeans and chains hanging off of them. He appeared to be holding the hand of a little girl who had a mane of wild curls that were a few shades lighter than her dads. She was wearing a purple dress and a poofy blue jacket that appeared to do nothing to slow her down as she seemed to move even as her dad ordered.

Steve couldn’t stop the smile that formed at the sight, but assumed that this wasn’t who he was waiting for. He didn’t think his client would bring his pup with him to the interview. He found no harm in watching them for a bit while he waited for Eddie to show up.

After the man placed the order, he turned to look directly at Steve, who flushed in embarrassment at being caught looking and ducked his head. Which meant he didn’t see the man approach with his daughter in tow, but he did smell him, a sweet, musky scent filled his nose as the alpha approached, it reminded him of the forest. He lost himself in it for a moment before subtly shaking his head to clear it. He looked up with wide eyes as the man stopped at his table, hazel eyes meeting brown.

“Steve?” The alpha—Eddie?—asked, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Steve blinked as he took in the sight of the man, trying to figure out where he knew him from. He looked familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint why. He was sure he would have remembered meeting an alpha this handsome.

“Huh? Oh, yes, sorry,” Steve stammered, cheeks suddenly flushed. He stood abruptly to properly greet the alpha, “That’s, um, I’m Steve.” he thrust his hand out to shake Eddie’s, who took it and shook firmly. Steve ignored the way his stomach swooped at the firm grip the alpha had.

“..I’m Eddie,” he responded, and opened his mouth to say something else but a small voice interrupted them.

“I’m Elodie!” the pup said cheerfully, trying to replicate the action of shaking Steve’s hand. He was immediately enamored with Elodie and allowed her to shake his hand.

“It is so nice to meet you, Miss Elodie.” he said sincerely, grinning as she giggled in response. The three of them quickly sat, with Eddie and Elodie on one side, and Steve on the other.

Steve wasn’t sure where to start, now that he knew they were going to be joined with the pup he would be taking care of if he was chosen. To be fair, he probably wouldn’t have known where to start even if she hadn’t joined them.

Elodie seemed to be taking this seriously, sitting next to her father with her hands together on the table. She had taken out a notepad and had it opened to a blank page with her colored pencil next to it. She looked like she was trying hard to look stern, and failed miserably at it, which was just an adorable sight. Beside her, Eddie looked uncomfortable but still polite. Elodie also seemed to not have the same problem as the adults, immediately launching into questioning.

“Will you take me to the park?”

Steve glanced at Eddie, who looked fondly exasperated the moment Elodie started talking, so Steve figured it wouldn’t hurt to answer her question.

“If your dad is okay with it, sure,” he agreed easily, trying not to show his amusement in his tone, but sure his scent was giving it away as it sweetened. He was glad that pups didn’t fully develope their understanding of the different scents until they were a bit older than Elodie.

Elodie nodded firmly, writing it down on her little notepad, which upon closer inspection, Steve noticed had stickers of what appeared to be dragons and unicorns decorating it.

Eddie seemed content to let her do her questioning, sitting back and watching the pair. Steve wondered if this was the interview, to see how he and Elodie got along.

“Will you give me treats?” was the next question that Elodie had for him.

Steve leaned forward to stage whisper to her, “Only every day,” as if it were a secret. She brightened at that answer, giggling. Steve tried not to wince as her feet kicked into his shins, hiding it with a grin.

Elodie looked up at her dad, “Alright. I think we have a winner.” she said firmly, and Steve couldn’t withhold a grin from taking over his face, just barely holding back a laugh. She had all of two questions for him, neither of which were entirely surprising for a pup to ask.

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly at her, patting her head, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Odie?” Elodie nodded rapidly, eyes wide and begging. “Let me ask him some questions, and I’ll take your vote into consideration. Sound good?” Elodie looked like a bobble head as she nodded wildly again.

“Okay! Can I go play now?” she asked, looking out the window where there was a park across the street.

Eddie looked as though he was about to say no, so Steve took it upon himself to try to convince the alpha.

“There are picnic tables on the far side, you can’t see them from here, but we could sit at one of them and keep an eye on her,” Steve offered, Eddie’s gaze snapped over to him in surprise.

Elodie looked at her father with wide brown eyes, lip jutting out in a pout. “Please?” she asked, stretching the word out until Eddie heaved a sigh.

“Alright, let’s go,” he gave in, standing from the table. Steve’s cheeks hurt from how much he was smiling from this little encounter, and stood to follow them out. Elodie immediately held her dad’s hand, and reached a hand out to Steve to hold one of his as well. Steve glanced nervously at the alpha, but allowed her to take his hand, too.

“Bye, Steve!” Will called as they walked to the door and Steve knew he’d be receiving a load of texts from the other pups he used to babysit about this.

“See you later, Will,” Steve called back, bracing himself against the chilly air as they stepped outside. Almost immediately, Elodie tried to race ahead of the pair, but instinctually, Steve tightened his hold, as Eddie lightly scolded her.

“Elodie Mae, you know you have to hold my hand to cross the street,” he said, frowning at the pup. Elodie pouted, but held their hands and walked with them across the street to the park.

Once they were safely across, Elodie took off towards the park while Steve led Eddie to the picnic benches on the far side. Steve nervously glanced at the alpha, trying to figure out how he was doing so far. He seemed relaxed, but wary of their surroundings, glancing around them frequently, as if nervous to be seen. Steve felt his hackles rise, and furrowed his eyebrows. Could the alpha be embarrassed to be seen with him? Surely not, Chrissy wouldn’t have let him move forward to this stage of the hiring process if Eddie wasn’t going to at least consider him for the job.

“Here are the picnic tables,” Steve said needlessly as a way to fill the silence that had grown between them.

Eddie hummed in response and sat at one of them, and Steve followed his lead, sitting across from him. The picnic table was positioned perpendicular to the park, so Steve sat straddling the bench to keep an eye on Elodie. He may not have been hired yet, so he still wanted to prove that he was capable of the job.

Eddie was silent for a while, but eventually he seemed to figure out what exactly he wanted to say. “This wasn’t my idea,” he started, watching as Elodie ran up to another kid playing at the park.

“I figured not,” Steve admitted, smiling as the two pups ran off together to play.

“But Chrissy is right,” he continued, looking at Steve, “being on tour is a lot and watching an eight year old while performing is pretty much impossible. So, I had two options: leave her at home with a nanny, or bring her with and hire a traveling nanny.”

Suddenly the reason why Eddie seemed so familiar became abundantly clear, he was Eddie Munson. Rockstar, Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin lead singer, Eddie Munson. Heart-throb alpha, Eddie Munson.

Steve tried to grapple with this revelation silently, hoping that Eddie wouldn’t notice as he didn’t want the musician to think that Steve was being unprofessional. It was fine, really, it just wasn’t something that Steve had been expecting, is all. He wasn’t even a fan of the music, but he knew that Dustin and his friends—including Will—were massive fans. He was glad that Will didn’t flip out when they were in the coffee shop.

“That would be a lot on anyone’s plate,” he finally said, once he was sure his voice wasn’t going to give away his realization. “And I would be more than happy to take some off of it. I’ve already started planning some classwork, actually,” he admitted shyly.

Eddie looked at him in surprise, but it didn’t seem like a bad reaction, so Steve considered it a win.

“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “Even though you weren’t guaranteed the job yet?”

“I was stressing about today, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared,” Steve shrugged, not looking at the alpha, instead watching as Elodie and the other pup raced from the monkey bars to the swings.

“That’s impressive,” Eddie told him, and when Steve looked at him, he was smiling tentatively.

Steve scoffed slightly, brushing off the compliment. “Even if I don’t get the job,” he felt a pang of sadness hit him at the thought, “it’s still good practice.”

“Oh, you have the job,” Eddie said nonchalantly, so much so that Steve didn’t process the words for a second.

“I do?” he asked, whipping his head to look at Eddie so abruptly that he felt his neck crack once.

“Yeah, Elodie got the final say,” he smiled vaguely in the direction of where Steve knew Elodie and her new friend were playing.

Chrissy’s earlier amusement about not making the choice of candidate made sense, now.

“Thank you,” Steve said, unsure if that was the right response, but not knowing how else to express his gratitude about being hired.

Eddie smiled vaguely at Steve, shrugging slightly. “As long as she didn’t choose an obvious asshole, I’m more than happy to hire whoever she wants. Means she’s gonna be more likely to listen to you.”

Steve nodded, “That…makes a lot of sense, actually,” he said softly.

“I’ll get Chrissy to email you the official offer, and whatever else needs to be sent,” he hummed, smiling at him.

“I look forward to it,” Steve said honestly, already looking forward to telling Robin that he got the job. He thought of the NDA, and wilted slightly. He wasn’t sure how much he was allowed to actually share with her about the job. He knew he’d be able to tell her that he <i>got</i> the job at least, but not much more than that. Maybe he’d ask Chrissy if they were hiring for something else, because like hell he’d be sued for talking to his best friend.

The pair spent another two hours or so watching Elodie run around and play, but eventually they had to leave.

“Bye, Miss Elodie,” the omega said, laughing as the pup hugged him tightly.

“Bye, Mister Steve,” Elodie mumbled into his sternum before she pulled away and took Eddie’s hand.

“Goodbye, Eddie,” Steve said, looking up at the handsome alpha through his eyelashes. Eddie smiled, but it looked tense, and Steve was reminded that this wasn’t Eddie’s idea. In fact, he seemed to be mildly against the whole affair.

After they said their goodbyes, Steve watched Eddie and Elodie get into a black car with tinted windows, and watched as it disappeared around a corner before he started the longish walk home, feeling a pep in his step as he did.

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#eeeeeep #the long awaited meeting #i swear they get better next chapter djshdhsha #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #eventual steddie #steve x eddie #alpha!eddie munson #omega!steve harrington #rockstar!eddie munson #single dad!eddie munson #nanny!steve harrington #tw omegaverse #cw omegaverse #unsteddie writing #stuck in your throat #siyt 🎤

[eldritch-thrumming]

and i wouldn’t marry me either, pt. 1

have u guys seen that movie plus one on hulu with jack quaid and maya erskine? ok well here’s this thing. also, tw for steve puking.

Steve is drunk. Like, really, embarrassingly drunk.

And that would be fine, really, if he wasn’t at someone’s actual, real-life wedding.

Somewhere between the ceremony and the cocktail hour, the father-of-the-bride speech that had made him cry and the cutting of the cake, he’d started thinking about Nancy Wheeler and thinking about Nancy Wheeler had led to him practically funding the open bar with the spare change he’d been sure to bring in his pockets for tips.

And the thing about it is, Steve normally loves weddings. He loves the flowers and the vows and watching the bride walk down the aisle. He loves the DJ announcing the new couple, loves throwing confetti outside the church, loves the look on the groom’s face when he sees his almost-wife in her dress for the first time. But—

“Harrington!” Tommy Hagan yells from across the room, gesturing for Steve to make his way over. Steve racks his brain for an explanation as to why Tommy H would be at this wedding; he doesn’t remember Gareth and Tommy being particularly close back in their college days. Steve stumbles his way over to Tommy’s table, keeping a secure hand around his gin & tonic, trying his best not to spill.

“Stevie!” Tommy’s fiancée, Carol, practically crows as she leans over Tommy’s lap. “Where’s Nancy?”

“Yeah, man, kinda thought you’d be the first one marching down the aisle,” Tommy laughs and Carol swats him on the arm.

Steve downs his practically full drink before slamming the heavy glass back down on the table.

“We broke up actually,” Steve grimaces. “Last week.”

Carol gives him an exaggerated pout while Tommy cringes. “Aw, baby, I’m so sorry,” Carol slurs. Steve has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, well.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “We wanted different things.”

They offer him a few more words of sympathy before Steve finally flees, making excuses about finding the bathroom. He’s too drunk for this.

He leaves the table in search of another drink.

~*~

Eddie’s just outside the reception hall, out on the venue’s terrace, sparkling with fairy lights. He’s got a stack of index cards in his hands, trying to make out his own scrawled handwriting, when someone stumbles directly into his back. He feels something wet through the fabric of his dress shirt.

“Fuck, shit, sorry, fuck,” someone says, their hands patting at the wetness.

Eddie finally turns to see a disheveled Steve Harrington, a half-empty glass clutched in his fist. His hair’s a mess, his tie’s undone, and he’s clearly drunk. Eddie had seen him stumbling around the dance floor earlier.

“Dude, you good?” Eddie asks, genuinely concerned. He can’t remember the last time he’d seen Harrington drunk. It had to be way back in college, when he’d only known Steve as that annoying frat dude that Gareth and Dustin always brought around. He’d spent a full year trying to figure out what those two saw in him and doing everything in his power to avoid group hang outs.

They’d gotten closer over the years, once they’d graduated and become, like, real, fully-formed human beings. Harrington was actually a pretty chill dude, funny and sweet and able to give as good as he got whenever Eddie was in a particularly teasing mood. Eddie’s ego wasn’t so big that he couldn’t admit he’d been wrong about Harrington, at least in the privacy of his own head.

“Yeah, man, all good,” Steve slurs, barely coherent. He raises his empty hand limply in an attempt at a thumbs up.

“Man, you don’t look so good.” Steve’s eyes are practically vacant and Eddie is feeling genuinely concerned. And he’s proven right when Steve stumbles over to one of the concrete planters lining the terrace and pukes his guts out. It’s loud and disgusting and Eddie can feel the grimace on his own face. But Steve is his friend, so he reaches his hand out to rub Steve’s back, even as he keeps his distance.

“Hey, Eddie,” he hears Jeff call from the French doors that lead into the reception hall.

“Yeah?” Eddie spares a quick glance over his shoulder before returning his attention to where Steve is groaning into the dirt of some exotic-looking tree.

“‘Bout ready to cut the cake,” Jeff tells him. “Need you in a few.”

Right. Eddie’s best man speech. The reason he was out here in the first place. He’s not nervous or anything. He’s a natural showman and entertainer, loves being in front of a crowd. And he loves Gareth and Chrissy. He has plenty of good things to say about them, plenty of embarrassing stories from when he and Gareth were kids, and plenty of sweet ones from when they’d finally met Chrissy in college. Nah, Eddie’s pretty much got this in the bag. He’s just not used to the idea of his friends being actually, real-life married. They’re only 27; Chrissy’s practically a child bride for god’s sake!

Eddie glances down at Steve, whose face is red and sweaty. Eddie’s not blind or stupid; he knows Steve’s an attractive dude. He’s a little too preppy and heterosexual (even though Eddie knows on a theoretical level that Steve does sometimes sleep with other guys) for Eddie’s tastes, but the man is hot. Except for right now. He actually looks pretty bad, possibly the worst Eddie’s ever seen him. And that’s really saying something, considering Steve had actually had his stomach pumped during Greek Week their senior year. At least Steve seems to have cleared the contents of his stomach, at this point.

“Hey, man, you good?” Eddie asks him, his hand still rubbing slow circles on Steve’s back.

Steve groans before looking up at him. “Eddie?” Steve squint. “You’re pretty. Like Nancy.” And Steve sounds so sad when he says it that even Eddie’s heart gives a little squeeze.

“Uh, thank you,” Eddie glances toward the open doors again. The cake is being wheeled out into the middle of the dance floor. “Listen, I don’t wanna leave you out here, but I gotta go give a speech. Can you, uh, stand up for me?”

“Yeah, man, totally,” Steve slurs out, barely comprehensible. He drags the back of his hand over his lips and chin, which should be kind of disgusting, but Eddie just feels sorry for him. Steve makes it one step before he’s slouching into Eddie’s shoulder, all his weight falling into Eddie’s chest. Eddie grunts and fits his hands around Steve’s waist.

“Fuck, dude, how much do you weigh?” Eddie’s voice comes out a little breathless.

“175, baby. Pure muscle,” Steve slurs back.

“Yeah, I believe it,” Eddie mutters, fingertips digging hard into the firmness of Steve’s lower back. “Okay, come on, let’s get you a chair.”

It takes some maneuvering but Eddie finally gets Steve inside and seats him at the closest table. It’s empty, since most people had been dancing and are currently crowded around the cake. Chrissy’s sister, the maid of honor, is holding a microphone, finishing her speech.

“We love you, Chrissy,” she’s saying, looking at the bride with tears in her eyes. “We know that Gareth will do everything in his power to make you happy. To Gareth and Chrissy!” She raises her glass of champagne, smiling, and everyone around her does the same, echoing her toast. “Okay, now where’s the best man?” She says, scanning the crowd.

Eddie smiles and makes his way over, taking the microphone from her.

“When I met Gareth, we were five years old. We’ve been through a lot together, from Gareth’s bug eating phase, to his wetting the bed phase, to that phase he had where he used to Naruto run to class in middle school, to his Hitchcock phase where he tried to talk in that transatlantic accent for literal months, to his bleach blonde phase, to his—”

“Alright, alright, we get it,” Gareth cuts in, rolling his eyes with an easy smile. The crowd laughs.

“Okay, okay. All I’m saying is I’ve seen a lot of versions of my best friend. But the best Gareth by far is the one he is with Chrissy. I remember when Gareth first met her, in their art history seminar. He came back to the dorm after that first week and told me he’d met an angel. ‘I’m in love, dude,’ he told me. ‘I’m marrying this girl.’ I, of course, was skeptical, especially when he pointed her out later that month in the dining hall. ‘Sorry, man, but no way. She’s way outta your league,’ I told him. But to my surprise, Chrissy Cunningham came marching up to us right then and there and asked Gareth if he’d started studying for their midterm. Gareth stumbled through that whole interaction making an absolute fool of himself. I’m pretty sure he put his elbow in my mashed potatoes,” Gareth and Chrissy laugh, “but that didn’t stop Chrissy from asking him to study that weekend. And the rest is, as they say, history.” Eddie raises his own glass of champagne in the direction of the happy couple. “When Gareth told me he was marrying Chrissy, all I could say was ‘it’s about fucking time.’ Chrissy is the smartest, sweetest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet and she somehow makes my best friend an even better dude. So thank you, Chrissy, and congratulations to you both.” Everyone raises their glasses. Over the sounds of the room toasting, Eddie can hear Steve at his table in the back corner drunkenly cheering.

“Woo-hoo!” Steve claps. “Yeah!” Thankfully, no else really seems to notice and Eddie watches over Chrissy’s shoulder as Steve tries to stand from his seat but falls back into it on his ass, looking dazed.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Chrissy whispers as they pull away from their hug. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, babe,” Eddie tells her, squeezing her hands in his. He glances back over at Steve. “I’m gonna take Harrington up to my room, let him sleep some of the alcohol off.”

Chrissy’s eyes widen. “Oh, good idea. I was a little worried about him when I saw him stumbling around the dance floor before.” Eddie gives her hands one final squeeze before wandering off to collect Steve.

~*~

Getting Steve into the elevator is a struggle. He doesn’t want to leave, keeps saying he didn’t even get to eat a piece of cake yet. He only lets Eddie shove him through the metal doors when Eddie promises to bring him a piece when he comes back up later.

They make it to Eddie’s room without further incident and once they’re safely inside, Steve starts ripping off his suit without a care in the world. His hands and arms are flying everywhere. He almost takes Eddie out with an elbow to the temple.

“Dude, calm down,” Eddie tells him, hands on Steve’s arms. “Let me help you.” He unbuttons what’s left of Steve’s shirt and hangs it over the closet doorknob before reaching for Steve’s waistband and undoing his fly. His suit pants fall around his ankles. “Okay, step out.”

Steve braces his hands on Eddie’s shoulders and lifts one leg and then the other, until he’s standing there in only his briefs and his dress socks.

“Thought about this a lot in college,” Steve mutters, still slurring his words.

And that—huh? What? Thought about what a lot? Eddie undressing him?

Eddie does his best not to react. Steve’s drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

Eddie brings his own hands up to curl around Steve’s wrists and pull his hands away from his shoulders. He bends down and picks up Steve’s pants, folding them and placing them on the dresser. He folds back the bed’s comforter.

“Okay, big boy, in ya go.” He gestures toward the bed, encouraging Steve to lay down. Steve suddenly looks exhausted as he slides under the covers.

His eyes are half-closed before his head even hits the pillow.

Before Eddie shuts off the light and leaves to head back downstairs, he hears Steve call out softly, “sorry if I ruined it.” He shifts sleepily on the bed. “I always ruin it.”

Eddie feels like he’s swallowed glass as he slowly shuts the door behind him.

~*~

Steve wakes up to sunshine streaming in through the curtains of an unfamiliar bedroom. His head is killing him and his mouth feels like he’s swallowed 87 cotton balls. He groans, rolling away from the window, only to be met with the image of Eddie Munson’s shirtless, sleeping form.

Fuck. How drunk had he been last night? He vaguely remembers puking outside somewhere and Eddie rubbing his back, but he definitely doesn’t remember leaving the wedding. He doesn’t remember leaving the wedding with Eddie.

Steve spares a quick glance under the covers and is relieved to see that he’s still wearing his underwear and Eddie’s got on a pair of pajama pants. Surely he wouldn’t have sex and then put his underwear back on; that seems like something only a serial killer would do.

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it. There was that one year, just after they’d graduated, that Steve had thought maybe there was something between them, something a little more than friendship.

But then he’d met Nancy Wheeler at his new job and she’d asked him out and he’d started imagining their lives together and thoughts of anyone else had just floated away.

So, yeah, Steve’s thought about it. Eddie’s gorgeous and funny and smart. It’s not like Steve would regret it. He could certainly do a lot worse.

But if he’s gonna sleep with one of his closest friends, he’d like to actually remember it.

In between Steve’s spiraling thoughts, Eddie must have woken up, because when Steve spares another glance toward his face, Eddie’s staring right back at him, making him jump slightly.

“Fuck, dude, make a noise,” Steve breathes out before running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “We didn’t—uh, nothing like… happened or whatever, right? We didn’t, like… you know… did we?”

Eddie stares at him for a long moment before putting Steve out of his misery. “No offense, Stevie, but I’m not really into guys that can barely string together a coherent thought.”

“Oh, thank god,” Steve sighs with relief, body sagging against the mattress. He sees Eddie’s mouth twitch. “Not that I… you know, you’re hot or whatever, but like…”

“Dude, relax,” Eddie laughs, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress. “You were black out drunk. I just brought you up here so you didn’t hurt yourself.”

Steve winces. “I didn’t, like, embarrass myself, did I? Or, like, ruin the wedding?”

Eddie looks at him with something like pity and Steve has to swallow nervously.

“No, Steve, you were fine. I just found you throwing up outside and though you’d had enough.”

Steve stares down at his hands. “Thanks, man,” he says softly.

“No worries, you’d do the same for me.” He sounds so totally sure that Steve would. “Weddings are tough. Can you believe I have, like, four more to go to, just this summer? I’ll probably black out at at least one of them. Anyway, I’m gonna take a shower and then you should probably also shower. You stink.” Eddie stands from the bed and claps his hands together. “And then we’re taking full advantage of the free hotel breakfast bar.”

~*~

After they’ve showered and Eddie’s gone back to the breakfast buffet for seconds and thirds, he offers to drive Steve home and Steve gratefully accepts. He’s really not in the mood for an Uber or, even worse, the subway.

Steve keeps thinking about what Eddie had said back in the hotel room. That he had four more weddings to go to this summer alone. Steve has five of his own and the thought of going through all that alone makes his stomach clench and his throat tighten. He knows he’s going to see Nancy at at least one of them and that thought alone has Steve desperate.

“Hey, you know how you said you have four more weddings to go to this summer?” Steve asks from the passengers seat. Eddie hums an affirmative response. “I have five.”

“No shit, that sucks, man. I actually fuckin’ hate weddings, to tell you the truth.” Eddie doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“I used to love them, actually. But, I don’t know. They’ve kind of lost their charm,” Steve doesn’t mean to sound super mega fucking depressed about it, but he knows he does.

“Fuck, dude. Sorry,” Eddie glances at him, a worried look in his eye.

“But, uh, I was thinking,” Steve powers on. “Maybe we should, like, help each other out?”

Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Like, you know.” Steve gestures vaguely with his hand. “Make it less unbearable. Like, we could go together or something.”

“You want to be each other’s plus ones?” Eddie asks incredulously.

“Yeah, man, think about it. You’d always have someone to chill with, even if the party’s fucking lame. We could make fun of the bridesmaids’ dresses together and shit. It wouldn’t be as god fucking awful if we were together.”

They’re stopped at a red light and Eddie has turned to stare directly at him.

“You do realize that would mean we’d be going to ten weddings, like, collectively, right? Why would I want to go to more weddings then I actually have to?”

“Well, nine, since Chrissy and Gareth’s is over,” Steve tells him, matter-of-factly. “Come on, Eddie, this summer is fucking torture for me. You know Nancy, like, crushed me or whatever. It would really help me out, to have you there. Just think about it.”

And, Steve thinks, that’s kind of what does it. Eddie has a savior complex about a mile wide and Steve has never been above using that to his advantage.

Eddie sighs and shifts his gaze back to the road as the light turns green.

“Fine, Harrington,” he finally says. “But you are paying for all my suit rentals and buying all the gifts.”

Steve smiles. “Deal.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie fic recs #steddie au #steddie modern au #steddie rom com au

[soxcietyy]

Addicted to you

Yuta x reader Aged up

Two academics rivals see eachother at a frat party. Little does the other person know how badly he wanted you.

It takes him not even a second to recognize you by the faint sound of your laugh. Even with the loud music blaring into his ears he wouldn’t be able to miss such a sound. His eyes scanned the room full of people as he searched for you. Looking at every person until he found those beautiful eyes of yours. There you were, standing in thoes dirty tennis shoes you always wore. Standing in a cute tight dress that suited you perfectly. With a red solo cup in your hand as you laughed and danced with your friends.

"Yuta! Pass me the bottle next to you." Someone yelled trying to get his attention.

He grabbed the closest alcohol bottle and handed it to whoever asked for it. He didn’t bother to turn to look at them because he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you as much as he wanted to. He was surprised to see you here. A person who was an academic achiever, who wouldn’t be caught dead at a frat party. Someone who held themselves at such a high standard and would supposedly never snoop down so low. What could you doing here at all places? Especially on a school night.

His breath hitched when the both of you made eye contact from across the room. Your bright eyes quickly turning into glaring ones.

The both of you had some sort of rivalry going on. An academic rivalry if he had to be exact. Both of you had a few of the same classes together due to you guys being in the same major. You and Yuta were the top in all the classes you shared. Sometimes you would score higher or sometimes it was the other way around. This all started since high school and it carried out to junior year in college.

It didn’t help that your teachers would put you guys up against each other every time. He remembered how back then you guys were best friends. You would go out to eat, hang out, and study together. Now every time you were near each other tension could be sensed. If he had to be honest he hated it. He missed how you guys used to be and missed being around you. Everything about you was so perfect and yet you hated his guts.

Why did people have to put you up against each other? Why did they have to convince you that he was a bad guy.

He wanted to show you how much you meant to him. How much he thinks about you daily. How much he misses you and needs you so badly because he’s never met anyone like you. He didn’t want anyone but you.

He would ask around to figure out the classes you were going to take. Your schedule for the semester, when you would go out to eat or go to the library. He made sure that you would know he was also there but make it seem like a coincidence.

You had no idea how tightly you had him wrapped around your finger.

He lazily threw his head back as he took a shot that his friend handed to him. Hopefully it was enough to give him some courage to approach you. When everything went down he threw the cup onto the table and started making his way to you. Maybe the shot was a bad idea because he had already been drinking for a while. Plus he was already feeling it by the time he made to you.

You didn’t seem to notice him until your friends tapped your shoulder. When you did you frowned at the sight of him. He looked at you with his dark eyes intensely before stumbling a bit. You roll your eyes realizing he was drunk.

"Go back from where you came from Yuta. Dont tell me you came to boast about your recent exam grade. I don’t have time for you to ruin my night." You say as you turn back around to your friends.

Your scent hit him as you turned around making him want you more. Fuck a drug or alcohol addiction, your scent was his worst addiction and he was afraid he would act up because of it. Sadly the alcohol in his system made him act upon his thoughts. He wrapped his arms around you as he buried his face into the back of your head. He took a big whiff of your smell as your body suddenly tensed.

"Yuta?! What do you think you’re doing?” You say as you try to get his arms to release you.

"M’ so sorry, I don’t want to ruin your night but I need you so bad." He said as he hugged you tighter.

You could hear as your friend giggled and awed about Yutas actions. You had no idea if he was drunk or accidentally got something slipped into his drink. He must be confusing you for some other chick because when would Yuta Okkotsu be interested in you?

You somehow manage to slip out of his arms and grab him by the face.

"You want me to call you an Uber? You’re going to be embarrassed tomorrow when you find out that you were saying all this stuff to me. Can’t believe you mistook me for someone else." You say as you pull out your phone.

Your eyes were forced to look back up while trying to get onto the Uber app. He looked at your face for what seemed like a minute trying to figure out who you were.

"No, I could never mistake y/n" he said as he swayed a bit.

You looked at him stunned at what just came out his mouth. Before you could say anything he leaned in and kissed you on the lips. It was a long kiss that turned into a full on make out session. You could taste the drinks that he had been consuming tonight. You could also taste how desperate he was to be kissing you. His hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you in closer. One of his hands grabbing onto your chin so he could have you in the perfect possession.

You melted into his embrace as the kissing kept going. He was going at it non stop until you pushed him away from a breath of fresh air. When you did he decided you attacked your neck by smooching all over it.

"Oh he’s so going to be embarrassed tomorrow." You heard your friend say only to realize that she had recorded the whole interaction.

#yuta okkotsu #jjk second years #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #yuta okkotsu x y/n #yuta okkotsu smut #yuuta okkotsu #yuta x y/n #okkotsu yuuta #yuta x reader #yuuta x reader #yuta oneshot #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #jjk yuuta #yuta jjk #okkotsu yuuta x reader #Spotify

[topguncortez]

Not a Good Experience | B.Bradshaw One-Shot

part of the Older, Wiser, More Experienced fics

synopsis: Bradley has been acting strange, and you want to get to the bottom of it.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: arguing, verbal fighting, throwing glass (not at anyone), cursing, mentions of cheating, name calling

“I was late for dinner, so what?! That doesn’t mean you can act all crazy!” Bradley yelled at you. 

“I’m not acting crazy! I want to know where you were!” You yelled back. 

His face beat red from yelling. The veins in his forehead were popping out and his knuckles were white from clenching his fists. This argument was unlike any other, it had lasted a lot longer than usual. You weren’t sure when your relationship with Bradley had taken such an ugly turn, but you weren’t liking it. 

You had supported his career from day one sticking by his side; staying up late waiting for him to call when he was on deployment, putting your studies on hold, and waiting for him to come home. You ignored all the comments and stares at you as you stood by Bradley’s side at the Hard Deck or Naval events. It was hard being so much younger than Bradley, but you had somehow figured out a way to fit right in with the crowd. It was one of the many things Bradley had loved about you. 

You also weren’t ever one to cause arguments for no reason or any reason at all. Bradley found it quite odd that you never tried to pick a fight with him about things. For being so young, you were probably the most easy-going girlfriend he had ever had. 

But tonight was different. Tonight, you had reached your limit. For the past couple of months, Bradley had been brushing you off. It started with being late for dinner and not texting you he was going to be late. Then, it turned to leaving the house early in the morning and not so much as whispering goodbye or leaving you a note like he usually did. You knew that he was busier now with his new position and promotion, but you didn’t think it was at the point where he’d forget something so important as your one-year anniversary. 

It wasn’t that Bradley was late to your anniversary dinner, it was that he completely didn’t show up to it. You sat at the restaurant, in that baby blue dress, he loves so much for three hours. The waitress even gave you that sad look and a bottle of wine on the house. Bradley had told you he would be pushing it to make it on time, going over flight plans with Jake. You had called Jake, in tears as you ran out of the restaurant trying to avoid the sympathy looks from strangers. 

“He’s not with me,” Jake said, “He left the hangar hours ago.” 

It felt like a slug to your chest as you heard Jake’s words. You tried your best to give Bradley the benefit of the doubt, and not let your mind go there. . . but you couldn’t help it. He was staying out later, coming home at odd hours, answering his phone, and walking away to a private spot in his house. And you swore that he came home smelling of another woman’s perfume a couple of nights ago. 

Bradley had rushed home the second he checked his watch and realized how late he was. He stopped by the local flower shop and begged them to unlock the door so he could buy you a bouquet of purple roses. He had practiced a speech in his head of what he was going to say to you, but when he walked through the door and found you sitting on the couch, still in your dress and a glass of red wine in your hand, he knew that he wasn’t getting out of this easy. 

He didn’t, however, expect you to yell at him. He had never, ever, seen you like this.

“You have been lying to me for weeks!” You yelled at him, “And how dare you stand there and belittle me!” 

“Well! What do you expect me to do?! And what the hell were you doing on base at night? You know you can’t be there!” Bradley said.

“Because I wanted the fucking truth, Bradley. And I got it. Tell me where you were!? You told me, Bradley, you promised me that you wouldn’t do this to me! That you were better than all the rest and I believe you, so just tell-” 

“Oh my god!” Bradley groaned, running a head down his face, “You’re acting like a child!” 

You froze as you stared at him, his brown eyes filling with regret the second the words slipped his mouth. 

“I-” 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at him. You weren’t even thinking when you picked up the glass vase of flowers he had gotten you and threw it down on the floor. The shattering of glass was deafening as Bradley jumped, while you stood there barefoot, letting the glass and water sprinkle on your feet. You looked up at him, his eyes were wide as he looked from the mess and then to you. 

“Jesus, you really have fucking lost it.” Bradley laughed to himself, “This is why I spend my time with Tessa-” 

He clamped his jaw shut as soon as he said the name. You took a shaky breath, as tears clouded yours. She had a name, making everything you had speculated even more real. Bradley took a step towards you, but you held your hand up stopping him. You bit your lip and wiped your eyes. 

“I think I-it’s best if you stay with Jake tonight,” You suggested and Bradley nodded. 

You listened as Bradley’s footsteps drift out of the kitchen and up the creaky wooden stairs of your home. The bedroom door shut, and Bradley started shuffling around to find himself clothes for the night. You took a deep breath and knelt down, looking at the glass that was shattered around the floor and started to clean it up. You paused several times as your vision got too blurry with tears to continue. Once you had everything cleaned up, you made yourself a cup of tea, and sat down at the table, looking out into the still dark of the night. 

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, walking over to you, his backpack over his shoulder, “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to go to bed upset, cause I know you won’t sleep. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?” You nodded and Bradley kissed the top of your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“I’m sorry too,” You said barely above a whisper. You watched as Bradley walked out the front door, the image being burned into your eyes. You had watched him leave a thousand times, but for some reason, this felt different. You saw his car pull out of the driveway and turn down the road towards his brother’s house. You didn’t move, letting the sinking feeling of the quiet house soak into your skin. 

———————

“She threw a glass?!” Jake asked as Bradley, recounted the argument between you and him.

“Not really, more like held it above her head and threw it down,” Bradley answered. He was stretched out on Jake’s couch, a glass of whiskey in his hand, “And then I mentioned Tessa.” 

“You’re a fucking idiot…” 

“I know,” 

“Did you explain who Tessa was?” 

“How the fuck do I explain who Tessa is without telling her the whole secret. ‘Oh hey, babe I’ve been sneaking around with an engagement party planner so I can propose to you.’ ” Bradley said and sat up from the couch, “I feel like I just fucked everything up.” 

“Sounds like it,” Jake said, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Bradley shot him a look and he held his hands up in defense, “Hey! I’m not the one who called their girlfriend a child. You already know how she feels about being called that” 

“I know,” Bradley sighed, “I just. . . She was just- I don’t even know. I’ve never seen her that upset and it was making me mad that I was making her mad and I just-”  

“Fucked up.”  

“Yeah,” Rooster leaned back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling, “What do I do?” 

“Exactly what you are doing now. You let her have the night, let her think things through, and go back tomorrow. Talk it out. You two have been through so much together, this can’t be the end,” Jake explained and Bradley nodded, “I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too long, your mind needs rest.” 

Bradley nodded, “Night, man.” 

Bradley finished his glass of whiskey and then set it down on the table. He pulled his phone out and contemplated sending you a message, but decided against it. He locked his phone and set it down, before lying down and getting comfortable for the night. 

————————-

The next morning Bradley did exactly what Jake had suggested and went out to buy your favorite flowers. The morning rain felt refreshing as he pulled up to his shared home with you. Bradley checked himself in the rearview mirror, making sure he looked his best. He picked up the yellow and orange roses he had gotten, and sniffed them, making sure they smelled fresh. 

“Okay… here goes nothing,” Bradley said to himself as he pushed the car door open and quickly ran into the house, trying not to get soaked by the rain. He unlocked the door and shut it quickly. 

“Sugar!” Bradley called out. 

He looked around the first level and didn’t see you. He checked his phone, noticing it was still morning, you might have not been up yet. A smile crawled its way to his face, as he climbed the stairs, two at a time, the thought of surprising you dancing in his head. However, when he pushed the bedroom door open he was met with the sight of a perfectly made bed as if no one had slept in it. 

Bradley moved quickly from the main bedroom to the guest bedrooms and saw the same scene. Perfectly made beds. He began to panic, what if something had happened to you last night after he left? Bradley pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing your number, only for it to go straight to voicemail. He called the same number three more times, getting the same result each time. He sent Jake a frantic text, telling him you were missing. 

Bradley paced his bedroom, the flowers now laying on the bed, as he was pulling at his hair trying to think of what could’ve happened and who to contact. He pulled up the call feature on his phone again and almost called 9-1-1 when he looked up at the doors to their closet. He slowly put his phone down and walked to the closet. Pushing the doors back, he broke down. 

“No… no… no, no!” Bradley cried as he ran over to the dresser, yanking open the drawers to find them in the same state as the closet.

Empty. 

He pulled open cabinets in the bathroom, drawers to her vanity, desk drawers in the office, and pantry cupboards. Everything that you owned was gone. 

Bradley felt like the house was suffocating him. He ran down the stairs and out the door, slamming it shut. He ran all the way to Jake’s house, which luckily for him was just two streets over. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe. Everything that he had ever known was just gone… 

“Bradley?” Jake asked, barging into the house, “W-what happened? Where are you? I just saw your-” 

“She’s gone,” Bradley said. 

“What do you mean?” 

“S-she left me… she left me, oh my god, she left me.”

taglist form - I can't believe I need to say this. . . but you have to put your Tumblr username to be able to be tagged.

taglist: @damrlova @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388  @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27  @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines  @bradleybeachbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @Munsonswhore86 @happypopcornprincess @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @thedroneranger @angelbabyange @callsignharper @genius2050

note: and DO NOT ask for a part 2 because there won't be one. it's a ONE-SHOT for a reason

#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #Bradley Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw fan fic #Bradley Bradshaw fan fiction #Bradley Bradshaw imagine #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #Bradley Bradshaw x you #Bradley Bradshaw x y/n #Bradley Bradshaw x young!gf #Bradley rooster Bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster fan fic #rooster fan fiction #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #rooster x young!gf

[annaholak]

Wyrd Sisters Abroad

For this year's inktober I'm reimagining the three Lancre coven members, from Sir Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels, as modern day witches (and sending them on a trip to America).

So let me introduce you to:

Gytha "Nanny" Ogg (canon version)

Gytha is the optimist of the coven. She has buried three husbands (and that’s just the official count), she has fifteen children, innumerable grandchildren, an evil cat named Greebo, and only one tooth. She likes smoking her pipe, eating, drinking, playing her banjo while taking her bath, and singing (mostly “the Hedgehog Song” and “A Wizard’s Staff has a Knob on the End”). She always checks under her bed before going to sleep in the hope that there might be a man hiding under it (you never know…).

And:

the reimagined Gytha "Nanny" Ogg

Don't let her pink velour tracksuit fool you; she’s not one of the working out types of octogenarians (in fact she doesn’t do anything tiring if she can help it) - but she does like to be comfy (and maybe a little bit sexy - though she probably wouldn’t admit that). Her sneakers were chosen by one of her many grandchildren and “they’re red because Nana likes red and they have stars on them because Nana is MAGIC!”. Her witch’s hat has a red ribbon on it because she does indeed like red. Not pictured is her foul-tempered, evil-smelling, one-eyed cat Greebo whom, despite all evidence to the contrary, Nanny considers to be a sweet, harmless kitten.

Esmerelda (Esme) "Granny" Weatherwax (canon left, reimagined right)

Esme is the most intimidating of the coven. She is very confident in her abilities. When she says that something is impossible she usually means “for anyone except herself”. Accordingly she is not a good loser (she hasn’t had much practice); from her point of view, losing is something that happens to other people. She’s never scared of walking through a dark forest because she knows that the most terrifying thing in it is herself. Her implicit belief that everything should get out of her way extends to other witches, very tall trees and, on occasion, mountains. Despite being an extremely powerful witch, she prefers to use headology instead of actual magic whenever possible; she is a firm believer in giving people what they need, not what they want. She is Good and she is Right, but she's not Nice. She is feared and respected, but generally not liked.

In canon she is the most "traditionally" dressed of the three Lancre witches: all black, simple dress, sturdy boots, tall witch's hat fastened to her tight bun with hatpins, and the occasional vest. Her goal is to look as much of a witch (and as intimidating) as possible.

In the reimagined version she is still dressed in all black but I opted for a different kind of intimidating-older-woman style: the ageing punk rock virgin with the evil stare.

And last but not least:

Magrat Garlick (canon version)

Magrat's name is an accident; her mother wanted to name her Margaret, but didn't know how to spell it. She is the youngest member of the Lancre coven, and the least confident in her magical abilities (probably the reason why she rarely wears her witch’s hat - instead she prefers to wear glamorous green dresses that would suit more curvy figures than hers, and slightly wilted flower crowns on her unruly hair). She also has a huge collection of occult jewellery, is a vegetarian, and believes in folk songs and the Cycles of Nature. She is the most bookish of the three witches and an excellent herbalist - something even Granny Weatherwax (who usually calls her a “wet hen”) reluctantly admits. In “Witches Abroad” she inherits a Fairy Godmother wand, but is unable to master it; the only effect she is able to produce with it is turning things into pumpkins.

And:

the reimagined Magrat Garlick

As a vegetarian on a quest to save Mother Earth, she wears clothes made of natural fibers, vegan sandals, and reusable tote bags. She’s also wearing a witch’s hat (purely because I couldn’t resist the aesthetic appeal), but it’s dark green instead of the traditional black and the shortest one of the group. She still has a soft spot for crystals and magical jewellery though. She wears an ankle bracelet with tiny bells on it (she finds the soft tinkling weirdly soothing).

#I had fun with these #wish me luck with inktober #usually all hell breaks loose whenever I start a drawing challenge #discworld #fanart #gnu terry pratchett #witches #inktober2022

[throneofsapphics]

midnight panic

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Request: dark!Rowaelin x reader angst to fluff, she wanders around the castle and they can’t find her and think she ran or something. 

Summary: Rowan and Aelin find you missing in the middle of the night 

Warnings: darkish rowan/aelin, sleepwalking, hypothermia, fighting, toxic relationships

Word Count: ~3.2k 

A/N: this is a standalone, but also fits between parts 4 & 5 of my dark poly!rowaelin series (have your little girlfriend), but you don’t need to read the actual series to understand this one!

Aelin squinted, the light from the full moon hitting at the perfect angle to shine directly on her face. Keeping her eyes shut, not wanting the sleepiness to disappear, she turned back towards her, reaching her arm over to pull her back into her side, to cuddle into her warmth again. 

Aelin’s hand hit the bed, the space beside her warm - but empty, her eyes shot open. Majority of the time, she slept between her and Rowan. Lifting her head, she wasn't on his other side. Things had been … testy, lately. She couldn’t shake the feeling that y/n wanted out, wanted to leave the two of them, to escape to gods-know-where. She listened carefully for sounds in the bathroom - or even the sitting room, but nothing. How had she left without them noticing? 

“Rowan,” she said, trying to keep her voice low enough she wouldn’t startle him. Wouldn’t trigger the battle-honed instincts. A grunt, and he rolled towards her, reaching his own hand out and - his eyes shot open as well. Rowan checked the bathroom, and she peeked out onto the balcony - empty. Nothing was out of place, no missing items, if anything she’d left with only the clothes on her back.

“What the hell,” she muttered under her breath. 

“She was here an hour ago,” Rowan said, all traces of sleep gone. A good bit of distance could be covered in an hour, especially if she’d shifted into her animal form. 

I’ll check inside the castle, she said silently

I have the city, he assured her. In bird form, he’d be able to cover more ground. Signal if you find her. If we don’t in two hours, meet back here. 

One they’d used throughout the years - a pulse of magic, strong enough the other could recognize, but subtle enough to not cause alarm to the general public. 

It was midnight, and absolutely freezing. There was snow on the ground, ice covering the windows, the temperatures well below freezing. Even inside the castle, a bitter chill set in. Within minutes, they were dressed warmly and armed with their usual assortment of weapons. Rowan propped the window open, and with a flash of light a white-tailed hawk soared into the night. 

Aelin knew all of the routes to take to avoid any guards or sentries. It went without saying that they’d keep this under wraps. When they found her, there’d be hell to pay. She raced through the halls, checking her workshop, the private library, every place she usually liked to spend time. Every scent was faint, she hadn’t been there in the last few hours. Each minute she grew angrier and more worried. 

Tracing back, on impulse she checked on of the older passages out of the castle - and caught her scent. Running, she’d tried to run. Breathing deeply to tamp down her anger, threatening to flow over into her magic, she focused her senses. There’s no way she’d let her get away. A mating bond was for life. There’s nowhere she could run that her mates wouldn’t find her, even if it took years. 

-

Rowan flew over the city, backtracking through every route she could take out, searching for any trail of her scent. He spotted Aelin, following a path out of the castle, and shot down, shifting to fall in step with her. 

“She went this way,” Aelin said quietly, and he picked up on the same trail. Fae, at least she hadn’t shifted, that would make this much easier. 

This was familiar, something they’d done in their time before her. They were going on a hunt. 

Did she really think they wouldn’t notice? He needed to figure out how he’d given her the impression he was that stupid, and fix it. 

They trailed her out of the castle grounds, past the gates - a guard currently sleeping on duty. He’d quickly find himself out of a job in the morning, but he didn’t have the time to address that now, instead sending a sharp wind towards him when they were out of sight. A shield wrapped around them, hiding their scents as they stuck to the shadows, tracing her steps. 

She led them out of the city, just past the gates, right to the edge of the forest. His anger was rising to dangerous levels, and he knew that. Rowan prayed she wouldn’t fight them. 

Aelin held a hand out, as they paused just before a clearing. 

They’d found her, and it wasn’t what he expected. 

Barefoot, in only  her nightgown, not a weapon or any kind of provisions on her, she walked back and forth along the edge of the clearing. She crouched every few steps to pick up something, but her hands came back empty. Something was wrong - there was a daze in her eyes, murmuring random phrases under her breath, low enough he couldn’t hear. She didn’t drink any alcohol that night… Could someone have slipped her a drug? No, they ate all of the same food in their rooms, and he always made a point to check for any kind of poison. 

Following Aelin’s lead, they slowly approached her. 

“Y/n,” Aelin called. She didn’t react, didn’t even turn around. Aelin repeated her name - louder. Still nothing. 

A warm flame caressed her skin, starting to warm her back up. Gods, she’d be hypothermic by now. He’s surprised she hasn’t passed out on the ground.

All Rowan wanted was to sprint towards her, to grab and shake her, to find out what the fuck she was thinking, but instinct had him moving carefully and slowly, keeping his footsteps purposefully loud.

Aelin met his eyes; what do we do?

His breath caught as she turned, but no recognition flashed through her eyes. Actually, it was like they weren’t there at all. 

Aelin tried calling her name, again and again and didn’t get a single reaction. Nothing to register she was aware they existed. 

An exasperated sigh, and she closed the distance, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Y/n screamed, stumbling backwards, her ass hitting the ground, hands scrambling on the rocks to try and get away. A wall of flame, but not one that would burn her, blocked the path. As she reached the warmth, something in her calmed. Almost like she’d recognized Aelin’s magic, even wherever she was right now. 

Did she ever mention sleepwalking? Rowan asked her. 

Not that I know of. 

That doesn’t mean it’s not possible. There’s a chance she would hide something like this from them, probably not thinking it was important. He’d bet a decent bit of gold that’s exactly what’s happening right now. Gods, they’d be putting locks on everything now. 

After five minutes of trying to reach her, five minutes of her increasing distress, five minutes of fear starting to fill the air, he gave up. Palms already bloodied, wiping them off on her nightgown, he crouched as close to her as he could get. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and pulled the air from her lungs, catching her before her head could hit the ground. 

-

Mercifully, she stayed asleep as they ran back to the castle, moving as quickly as possible while staying hidden. Aelin kept the flames going, kept slowly warming her temperature back to healthy levels. Rowan had thrown her over his shoulder, one arm securing her legs in place. It didn’t look comfortable, but it was the quickest way to get back. Comfort could come later, after she was home, warm, and safe. Her mind whirled with the things she needed to do; find a way to secure the room, run a warm bath, hope she’d wake easily, and figure out if she was hiding this from them. 

They made it back without incident, taking all of the hidden passageways through the castle. Nearing one in the morning. She’d been outside for two hours. Anything could’ve happened to her. Especially considering how gods-damned vulnerable she was. It wasn’t her fault, not really, but Aelin was still pissed off. 

Not how they’d thought, but they came so close to losing her without even knowing. 

-

She felt warm water around her, her muscles tense and aching. Wasn’t she asleep? How the hell did she get into a bath? It took more effort than it should’ve to open her eyes, but she saw Aelin, right there, watching her every movement. Relief flashed through turquoise eyes, followed by … anger or resentment. 

“Do you know what happened?” Aelin asked, voice rough. 

“What do you mean?” She moved her foot up and down, her leg feeling weaker than normal. The water was warm, she knew that, but a shiver still ran through her and she wrapped her arms back around herself. The bath heated a few degrees, and she felt Aelin’s magic running through the water. Soothing and comforting. 

“We found you in the gods-damned forest,” Aelin hissed, struggling to keep her voice low. 

The door swung open, revealing Rowan. She noticed they were both fully dressed, weapons still sheathed. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Have you ever sleepwalked?” He asked mildly. A dangerous kind of mild, especially considering the rest of his body language, and the anger she could feel radiating down the bond. 

“Not since I was a child,” she admitted. Green eyes darkened, fixed on her, like he’d located his newest target. Her throat bobbed, chest tightening. It was never good to be on the receiving end of that look. 

“And you didn’t think to share that?” 

“It’s been years,” she focused on keeping her tone quiet and calm, on staying steady, even as her hands threatened to shake. She didn’t like this side of them. Darting her eyes to Aelin, she found herself on the receiving end of that same look. 

Liar, her eyes seemed to say. 

“I never lied,” she knew what their reply would be. 

“Lying by omission is still lying.” 

She was tired, aching, and still dazed. Her mind could barely focus enough to actually get a grip on the situation. The forest. Sleepwalking. Lying. It was too much effort to speak, to keep her eyes open, darkness swirled in her vision. 

“Stay awake,” fingers pinched her cheek, and she startled, water splashing over the sides of the tub. Fire evaporated it before it could reach the ground. 

“I’m trying,” y/n mumbled, running a wet hand over her face. The water heated again. How long had Aelin been doing this with her? “I don’t understand,” she gripped her hair with both hands, yanking at it. Frustrated. None of this made sense. 

Hands gripped her own, tugging them away from her hair. She was lifted out of the bath, towels drying her, leaning against someone as they slipped a nightgown over her - too weak to stand on her own. The next thing she knew, she hit soft and warm sheets, cradled between two warm bodies, and let sleep take her under. 

Every so often, her name would be called, eyes blinking open, gazing up at either Rowan or Aelin, they’d give her a small nod and she understood that - she could go back to sleep. There wasn’t enough space in her mind to question what was going on, it was easy to listen to what her mates said, to sense and follow their intentions. 

-

Aelin met Rowan’s eyes in the bathroom; she’s too confused. 

We won’t get anything out of her tonight, he finished her thoughts. 

Seeing the state of confusion, the distress, the vulnerability, all made it easy to just take care of her, to shove away the other emotions for now, to focus on making sure she’s safe. Free from anything that could harm her, including the sleepwalking. But, the major concern now was making sure her body recovered from her little adventure. Neither of them slept that night, Aelin didn’t try - she only grabbed a book and tried to focus on it. Inevitably, her eyes would switch to the clock, waiting for the next half-hour to wake her. It probably wasn’t necessary, or recommended, but she had to know y/n would wake. 

When dawn broke, she finally felt like she could leave the room, Rowan still keeping a careful eye on her. Just a week away from Samhuinn, the days rapidly got shorter and shorter as they approached the coldest months. They’d get maybe ten and half or eleven hours of daylight today. The sun always disappeared too quickly for her liking. 

A fire roared in the sitting room behind her, and she busied herself making tea, adding extra honey to y/n’s. She was out in the cold for a few hours, and her voice did sound hoarse earlier, Aelin figured she might have a sore throat. If not, she had a sweet tooth anyway.  

“I’m perfectly capable,” Aelin heard y/n’s voice rising, “I can get out of this damned bed on my own.” 

“Don’t fucking move,” Rowan snapped at her. She agreed with him, and carefully balanced the three cups. 

Pushing the door open with her foot, she found Rowan standing over the side of the bed, ready to pin y/n to the bed if she tried to move again. She was propped up against the headboard, fists clenching the comforter. Aelin could tell y/n woke up ready for a fight. Good, she wasn’t feeling particularly calm either. But first, tea. 

-

Aelin came back in, but y/n knew she wouldn’t be on her side. It was two-against-one now. Even as Aelin shoved the cup of tea into her hands, taking up the space next to her on the bed, legs crossed, and hands cradling her own cup. Silently, Rowan took the other from her, and dragged his chair closer to the bed. 

Y/n knew exactly what the cups would have. A good amount of sugar for Aelin, plain and boring for Rowan, and based on the scent - honey for her. She’s not sure how, but Aelin picked up that her throat was sore. It was enough to soothe some of the sting from the impending argument. 

Sure enough, honey exploded on her tongue - more than usual, but it was soothing her throat, and she wouldn’t complain. Complaining would only make her situation worse. She debated just accepting blame, letting them win this one, but truly - she hadn’t done anything wrong. There was no indication to think she’d end up sleepwalking again. Gods, she’d forgotten about it. 

“I haven’t sleepwalked since I was seven years old,” she kept her eyes on her cup, swirling the liquid to give her something to focus on. 

“If we’re going to talk about this, you need to look at us,” Rowan said too calmly. Fuck. 

Throat bobbing, she looked up at them. Seeing the gleam in their eyes, she went right on the defensive. “I was asleep, how the hell is this my fault?” Rowan stiffened, and she looked to Aelin.

“The problem is, you didn’t think to tell us,” Aelin’s voice was neutral, but she knew that was the sign of her growing anger. 

“You never asked,” she hissed back at her. 

“Watch your fucking attitude,” Rowan snarled. 

Closing her eyes, a few deep breaths later, she tried something different, “my parents always told me it only happened when I felt safe, when my mind - even asleep, thought I couldn’t come to any harm.” 

Emphasizing that she feels safe with them, that even though it was dangerous - the deepest parts of her mind believed she couldn’t come to any harm around them. At least she’s hoping that’s what they’d read out of the situation. 

“We thought you ran,” Aelin said quietly, her hand reaching out, and y/n slipped her palm into hers, giving her a light squeeze. She could tell Aelin had already softened, that her anger was slowly ebbing out. Rowan, however, would take a bit more time, and maybe some more soothing. 

“I’m not running,” she murmured. It’s the truth, she doesn’t want to leave, even if she craved some space away - something she could never tell them. Truly leaving them, she doesn’t think she could ever do that. Her heart and soul might not survive it, even if her mind says it could be better. 

Rowan was still assessing her, and she forced herself to meet his gaze, and she read the words in his eyes instead, the silent communication; you didn’t think. 

I’m sorry, she answered. 

Are you really?

That I put both of you through that. Rowan seemed to be waiting, waiting for her to add something. And myself, she tried. He gave her a short nod, and she understood; conversation over. 

She’d expected a much larger fight, but gods she’s glad it didn’t come to that. Y/n stretched, trying to place her mug on the table, but Rowan was there before she could get halfway, snatching it from her hands to place it there himself. 

Another realization struck her. Rowan told her briefly that she nearly froze to death. Now they’d be absolutely insufferable until they were satisfied she was healthy again. Knowing them, it could take much longer than necessary. Maybe this was her punishment, she met Rowan’s gaze again, reading the gleam in his eyes. Yes, it’s definitely her punishment. 

She debated reaching back into that part of her, trying to shift into her fox form - where everything would be easier. 

Rowan - the bastard, sensed that. “Try to shift and I’ll rip the air out of your lungs.” 

“A bit dramatic,” she huffed, but it put an end to that idea, and her attention switched to Aelin, who looked tired. A bit of guilt crept in, she’d been up all night for her. “Will you take a nap with me?” 

She is tired. Sleep sounded very, very nice. Aelin latched on to the idea, almost chucking her mug at Rowan before sliding in next to her. 

Aelin tugged her into her chest, their bodies molding together, legs tangling. Aelin ran her fingers through her hair, humming a tune she didn’t recognize. It was sweet, seeing Aelin in her fussy mode. At least this part of it. “Sleep, my love,” she murmured, placing a kiss to the top of her head. She heard Rowan rustling around the room, but every time she tried to look, Aelin tucked her head back in. Based on the movements, she figured it out pretty quickly. He was setting up something on the various doors in the room, some kind of noise or object would fall to alert them if she made it out over there. On the off chance both of them were asleep and didn’t notice. 

Without having to ask, she knew there would be locks on the doors by the end of the day. Locks she wouldn’t be able to access the key to, at least during the night. It felt vaguely like a cage, but the bed dipped again, a strong arm wrapping around her waist, Rowan’s strong chest pressing against her back.   

“Rowan,” she murmured, struggling to stay awake, “how the hell did I get past you?” 

A low growl from behind her, and she hid her laughter, tucking her face into Aelin. 

“I’m the one that found you,” she chuckled, hand resting on the back of her head, like she might protect her from the glare she could feel coming from Rowan. 

Y/n jumped as he pinched her arm, letting out a slightly-embarrassing squeak, but heard Aelin slapping Rowan’s hand away, chiding him.

#rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x y/n #rowaelin x y/n #rowan whitethorn x y/n #aelin galathynius x y/n #rowan whitethorn x reader #aelin galathynius x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin #throne of glass fic #throne of glass x reader