Tumgik
#also his side burns i need to look like him
hoesformatt · 3 days
Text
THE HEAT
Tumblr media
matt smut, when i saw this photo of matt on chris’ story I ran to write this
dom!rough!matt • poc!reader friendly
contains: pet names, no use of y/n, established relationship, missionary, choking, dacryphilia, a bit of sadism
word count: 1.6k
summary: matt, chris and you watch the miami heat vs boston celtics game since matt and chris root for their hometown team, and you also do the same for the heats. The stakes get high during the game and your mouth begins to get smart so Matt decides to put you in your place
“You got the drinks?!” I yelled while collecting the snacks off the counter, bringing them to the living room. “Getting this ready for a fucking basketball game is pathetic, drinks, chips, candies?! You don’t need all of that shit." Nick protested against us watching the games because he wanted to watch Edward Scissors-Hands for the umpteenth time.
I jumped onto the couch beside my boyfriend, wearing the green Celtics jersey “We’re gonna beat Miami bad.” He flaunted his team, grabbing the bag of chips I set on the table. Chris crept up, placing three shot glasses and a Casamigos bottle on the table.
“Finally some Caso-freak-hoes, I’m tired of the Julio” Matt scoffed, playing around, looking like he was offended because his favourite drink to sip on was Don Julio.
“With every quarter, whoever is leading the losing team has to take a shot” Chris raised his eyebrows at us, and I took the bet, so we all took a shot for pre-game.
At one point, once the game was beginning, we all sat down on the couch and watched the referee throw the jump ball, which the Heats got the power of. “See we started this off and we’re gonna finish it” He rolled his eyes snatching the bag of chips from my grip, my hand still remaining in the position it was before. Not even a few seconds later, the Celtics had the power of the ball and got a 3-pointer on their first shot.
We watched the first quarter go by quickly as the Celtics led by 9 points, and I shook my head. “We’re smoking the heats right now,” Chris nagged, pulling on my shirt and making me roll my eyes. “You gotta take you shotttt,” he said, singing.
Matt poured my glass to the rim, then passed to me, “Cel-tics, Cel-tics, Cel-tics!” They chanted as the tequila burned my throat. Chris clapped in amusement, pouring my Dr. Pepper into a red cup. Matt smirked with a winner-winner chicken dinner smile, and I stuck out my middle finger in defence, which he smacked down and raised a brow at me. “Don’t try that shit princess.” I stayed silent until the game started again.
Jayson Tatum on the Celtics started off the 2nd quarter with a 3-pointer once again, which got Matt and Chris jumping out of their seats, hollering for their team as I laid back in my seat. By the time that the 2nd quarter ended, Bos 42, Mia 27 and I was taking the piss… and this shot.
Matt once again began to put my shot in, but this time painfully slow, talking his mouth off about how the Celtics are going to shit on my team. I got ahold of my glass. “Shut up before I throw this shot in your face” I said without thinking, downing the liquor in the next few seconds. When I placed my cup down, Matt had his tongue pushing against his cheek, staring straight at me.
I completely ignored him, waiting impatiently for the ads to end and the 3rd quarter to start, I arose from my seat and walked to the kitchen to get more ice for my soda. “I’m not gonna tell you again, I hope you know that” Matt had said following me “Yeah, I know” I bitched.
“Stop being a fucking brat, it’s just a game, and we’re just having fun” I walked back to the couch after slamming the fridge door shut, sitting on Chris’ side of the couch instead since I was getting irritated by Matt.
The third time. For the third fucking time, the Celtics started off with a 3-pointer. It was like they were mocking me on the screen at this point. Once the shot sank in, Matt looked behind the couch and Chris’ head, at me, burning a hole through my head. It was 70 - 45 and at this point, I was so over it that I instead took the bottle off the table and poured myself a shot before the quarter even ended.
I was about to drink the shot when Matt stopped me “Chill out, Miami is done for so you don’t even need to be having your 4th shot of the night” I glanced at him, looking back at the shot, tempted to just take it.
“Don’t tell me what to do, I know how to handle my drinks, plus it’s just a game and we’re having fun right?” I clapped back which made Chris’ jaw drop as he began to snicker, looking at Matt with a you’re going to take that smile, unable to leave his face.
“I think she’s a bit tired now; come on, up” Matt demanded, curving around Chris to grab my wrist and pulled me out of my place on the couch. I resisted at first but then I saw the pissed expression on his face and realized what I had done. He guided me up the stairs, smacking my ass while I walked up too slowly.
I entered Matt’s room and he shut the door loudly behind him “Strip and get on your knees” I hesitantly removed my shorts, then my Miami jersey and my bra and finally my panties.
I listened to his orders and got on my knees to the cold floor and pulled his grey sweatpants and boxers down with me. "You talk too much. How about we use your mouth for something better?”
His cock slapped against my face and he glared down at easily becoming impatient with me, I spit on his tip then spread it around his shaft working with my hands at first.
He pulled my head back from refrain myself from sucking his dick. “You thought you were gonna suck my dick? Brats get their throats fucked”
The back of his head hit the end of the cold sink for support but he still held my hair in his hand and his dick in the other.
“Open your mouth for me princess” He smacked his length on my face before shoving it all on mouth choking me out, my head was in his hands filling my cheeks.
His mouth was at a ‘o’ moans escaping and his head falling backwards, I felt choked out by his girth, warm tear falling down my cheeks “You like being a brat, you can take it” He smiled at my expense, pushing my head so far back that my lips touch his balls, gagging.
My hands held the back of his thighs “Hands behind your back” He slapped my cheek lightly as I winded my hands behind my back, bobbing my head at an animalistic pace. He thrusted his dick towards my face until he pulled out jerking his cock and coming on my face.
“You’re not going to talk to me smart again huh?” I nodded taking the stickiness off my face, licking it off my fingers. “Get into the bed and spread those legs for me, princess” I obeyed his orders, taking my naked body onto the bed, the cold air hitting my nipples, making me wince.
Once Matt took off his jersey, he came up in-front of me, opening my folds and placing his middle finger on my clit, playing with it. He dipped his fingers in me, making me gasp, gaping up at Matt and his dangling silver chain.
Matt finished prepping me and aligned his length to my soaking cunt. I whined loudly as he thrusted his cock into me without remorse. “Matt please, please slow, slow” My hand landed on his chest, “Brats don’t get what they want baby,"  he moaned in my ear.
Matt raised my arms over my head, intwining my fingers with him to press into me deeper. I felt Matt’s warm breath on my neck and our warm skin meshing together. Matt’s thrusts were hard, hitting my g-spot repeatedly at an animalistic pace.
We looked down together, watching his cock disappear and reappear in me “You’re so perfect; this pussy is so perfect." He kissed, sucked, and licked my neck, making dark circles. His sultry words made me wetter, our lewd sounds of moans and whimpers mixed together. I grabbed on his neck so my eyes locked with his and he smirked, not parting with them.
My wet insides squeezed around him as he slid into me feeling his pre-cum leak inside of me. “Say my name princess.” He purposely dug so deep I didn’t even know he could reach that far.
“Matttt— Matthew!” I violently came, my legs trembling with all the pleasure taking over my body. I squeezed Matt’s cock in so hard when I came that he released inside of me. I whimpered with Matt’s and my cum coated in and over my pussy. “We’re going to go back and watch the rest of the game, you better behave.”
“Yes” Matt walked into the bathroom finding wipes to clean between my thighs and my stomach, helping me up. I waltzed downstairs with a limp “Celtics just beat Heats by 20 points” Chris announced.
Matt glanced at me with a grin on his face teasing me “I told you so”
tags: @lunariaxzz @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @luv4kozume @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @strniohoeee @iiheartstef @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @1800chokedathoe @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nickgetsmewetter @luhsexcbihh @hearts4chriss @thenickgirl @jnkvivi
372 notes · View notes
plush-rabbit · 1 day
Text
The One Where Adam Steals Lucifer's Babe
Word Count: 4.9K A/N: I had an idea about this, but I wanted to get it out. This was supposed to be headcanons, but it turned into a story!! woo(•_•)  This is also not done. Like I wanted it to be be headcanons so bad, but i need to establish a plot line because im like dumb. um, so yeah. if this does become anything more, i think max three chapter Its written as if Adam is a sinner so yeah!! -
Dating the King of Hell should be easy- nothing short of bliss and love. And it is easy being with the King of Hell, when he has to make appearances, and he has to put up a front. But being with Lucifer is much more difficult. You know he’s not over Lilith, and you aren’t even close to being a replacement for her. And yet, he keeps you around. You can trick yourself that he still wants you, that maybe he does enjoy being with you. But lying to yourself doesn't make anything easier. You walk out of the castle without a word to Lucifer, childishly hoping that he’d figure out that you weren’t there on his own. On your stroll to nowhere in particular, you check your phone constantly, hoping to see a missed message or call from him- some type of form that he still takes notice of you. You have to silence your phone when you feel tears prick your eyes at the empty screen.
You wind up in some sleazy bar, a bit too tipsy, and far too melancholic  to do anything more than swirl a glass of alcohol with melting ice. You watch the condensation drip down the side of the glass, creating a ring over the coaster. Beside you, the chair scrapes, and your spirits are lifted. It’s Lucifer! He’s chased you down and now he’s going to apologize and proclaim his- your shoulders fall when you realize that it’s not Lucifer. The realization leaves you cold and far lonelier than you initially were. Instead, it’s Adam- the First Man. You wonder for a brief moment if he even still calls himself that.
“Mind your fuckin’ business,” he sneers, sitting beside you. He lifts his hand, and the bartender pushes a glass and a bottle towards him, muttering something about a tab under his breath before turning his attention elsewhere. 
You heard he had become a Sinner- the very thing he sought to kill for entertainment not that long ago. However, you had yet to see him since he was stabbed by Niffty. You wonder if his new form has a hole in his back now.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he tells you, malice tinged at his words, but he makes no real motion to actively wave you off. You’re sure he would have if he was still divine.
A closer inspection reveals that he’s in far worse shape than you could have imagined. A beard that’s in the awkward phase of growing out, deep bags under his eyes, and gaunt cheeks. Hell has not been kind to him. But, what else could you have expected? He was an exorcist- the exorcist- and now, he’s stuck in Hell. Honestly, you should be surprised that his head isn’t mounted somewhere.
You turn back to your drink, and wipe a line of condensation off. “I’m surprised you’d even show your face around these parts,” you mumble, taking a swig of your drink. It burns going down, and you try to hide your displeased expression.
“Fuck you,” he hisses out, taking a long drink from the bottle.
“You know, as a former exorcist, I’d suggest being nice to demons around these parts.” You raise your hand at the bartender, and he walks over, and places the tab in front of you. “You never know who you’re gonna piss off next.” You leave a hefty amount, enough to cover your drinks and leave a pretty tip. 
“What? You’re gonna sick Lucifer on me?” You turn to him, embarrassment hot on your cheeks, and he wears a crooked smile. “Your face and his are plastered everywhere I look.”
With a sigh, you push the check away from you. “Must suck for you,” you mumble. His response is to take a drink from the bottle. “I hated having my picture taken before,” you tell him, unsure if he’s even listening or not. “I felt that they never really got my good side.”
“I’d get photographed all the time in Heaven,” he says in a low tone after a moment of silence. “Bitches could never get enough of me.” You scrunch your nose at the word, and fold the straw wrapper into squares. “Fucking loved it.”
“Wish I loved the camera.” You cross your ankles together, tucking them under the seat of the stool. “I hated being looked at.”
There's a pause in the conversation, long enough that you believe the small talk has ended. You could go back to the castle but if Lucifer hadn't taken notice of your absence, you'd surely have a breakdown. Maybe you could go to the hotel. Charlie would understand. “You still get your picture taken?” Adam asks, his voice startling you. 
You tilt your head to the side, underneath the seat, your legs twist around themselves. “Not as often as I used to. I think it was more like uh-” you wave your hand around and the folded wrapper unfurls itself- “shock value? I think. Like the King of Hell downgrading to some resident.” You smile bitterly. “Not even a Goetia or anything.”
“A Goetia?”
“These magical birds.” You look at him. “You’ve been in Hell for a bit, haven’t you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard or seen them.”
“I don’t get out a lot.”
“‘Cause you’re hated?” You ask, a wicked tone laced in your words. Adam responds by  mocking your voice with the same question. You scoff with a smile on your face. “I wonder why, if you’re such a peach.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
It’s silent. And you watch as the bartender grabs your drink, leaving the coaster behind. A memory of drinking with Lucifer pops into your head- his honeyed smile as he pours you a glass of wine that you would have never been able to afford, to even be aware of such a delicacy that existed in Hell. Never would he have taken you to some dingy bar where less than savory individuals reside. 
You’ve been taken care of. Pampered and adored for a considerable amount of time, before all the light had dimmed. You should have never allowed yourself to get used to such treasures. You glance over at Adam, and wonder if he can understand. “Do you come here often?” You ask him, crossing your arms over the bar. He chokes on his drink and slams the bottle down. He gives you a bewildered stare and you raise your shoulders defensively. “What? I’m just asking,” you say. “The bartender looks like he knows you.” You catch the bartender’s eyes and he quickly looks away. “Or at least enough to keep a tab open.”
“There’s not much to do around here,” he answers.
You fill your cheeks with air and let it slowly blow out through pursed lips. There's plenty to do- sort of. Minus the drugs and sex, most of Hell's greatest features are stuck in other rings. “There’s the Cannibal Sector,” you offer. “You gotta be careful but Rosie is nice and she sells pretty things. I have this hairpin in the shape of a human hand.” Adam gives you a look. “It might be a real hand, huh.”
“The fuck are you even doing out of your castle.”
You deflate. “Rough night,” you say with a sigh. “What about you?”
“Rough night,” he answers
You nod in solidarity. “I’m not usually a drinker,” you confess. “The taste is a bit too bitter for my liking. But being at the castle just wasn’t-” it’s not for you, the pampered life, acting as a placeholder, the King- “I didn’t want to be there.”
When Adam fails to say anything else, you feel embarrassed to even say something like that to the former angel beside you. He wouldn’t care. He shouldn’t care. Why would he ever worry himself over the likes of you, when your supposed partner couldn’t. He sniffs, and places the bottle down. It’s nearly empty. 
“Where do you want to be then?” His eyes are still golden, unblinking as he stares. 
Gold meets your own eyes, and you flicker to the horns over his head, curling overhead much like his former exorcist mask. You look back at his eyes, at the way he holds the bottle loosely. “I don’t know,” you confess. 
There’s a moment of silence, and he finishes the last bit of alcohol. You wonder how many he usually drinks before he goes back home. “You wanna come over?” He asks, and there’s a shade darker that brushes against his cheeks, and he tries to ask nonchalantly, but he toys with the words, and he swallows too harshly for him to not be worried about your answer. As if he’s asking some forbidden question. But, you’re lonely, and you don’t want to be alone in a bar longer than you already have been. 
You look at the exit, half-hoping that Lucifer would be there, ready to take you to his home, and a part of you is glad that he isn’t there. You look back at Adam, and nod your head. “Lead the way,” you tell him.
The sound of the bartender yelling behind you about a tab, has you smiling, feeling as if you’re dining and dashing despite you having paid for your portion. Adam doesn’t seem to care, walking without breaking a stride, just waving his hand without looking back. 
It doesn’t take long before you’re climbing up steps that need to be looked at, rust falling off with each bounce. You’re sure that you can hear something unsavory going on in a room, but a whistle from Adam has you scurrying along. There’s no reason that you should know anything more than you already do. 
You enter his apartment, and take a careful look around. It’s messy- clothes strewn across, dishes left out, and you feel pity for him. A single couch is close enough to the rather small television, a coffee table that has paint chipping and dents is one of the few pieces of furniture in the rooms. A sliding door is closed, a few broken blinds giving you just a glimpse into the outside. “You certainly,” you pause, trying to find something nice to say, “have a place,” you end defeatedly. You stand near the door, clicking the lock into place, as if that would protect you from any dangers out in the world. Perhaps you should be worried about Adam, about the angel who would bear his fangs and be drenched in blood, too excited about senseless murder. But you catch him kicking things under the couch, trying to spruce up the place even if just by a smidge.
“Fuck you,” he says without conviction. He grabs at a pile of clothes and tosses it on top of a chair, leaving the couch clear for you and him to sit. Smiling softly, you take a seat. He places himself close to the arm rest, and watches as you look around. “I uh, I clean- sometimes.” He sounds unsure of himself.
“I like cleaning,” you tell him, grabbing at a magazine on the worn out coffee table. It’s some tabloid, and you see a snippet of you and Lucifer in the corner. You turn to the page where you two are supposed to be. It’s titled as “Issues at Home?” You frown, and turn to another page. “I like organizing and stuff. Um, it helps uh, Lucifer. He does a lot of projects.”
“You don’t got any?”
“I have hobbies, but they come and go.” Your eyes skim the page, talking about Velvette’s new clothing line. You pull your lips into a thin line, a part of you wants to wear her outfits, but you aren’t sure you could pull them off. “It’s all just-” you flutter a hand in the air- “you know, stuff.” You place the magazine back on the table. “What about you?”
He smiles and leans back on the couch, the cushion creasing under his weight. “I like to play the guitar.” You perk at the mention, and watch as he rests his hands over his stomach. “I was in a band. Played the guitar, got all the chicks that I wanted.”
“Were you good at the guitar?”
He nods his head. “Oh, you should’ve fucking seen me. I was like a fucking god on stage.” He holds his hands out and mimics a guitar. You huff out a laugh, and watch as he lets his hands fall. “I got to fuck whoever I wanted. And I mean, who wouldn’t want to fuck me? Look at me.” he tosses you a lazy look, matched with a sly smile, and you can see how people would be attracted to him. “I was the first dick– of course, everyone wanted me.”
“What songs would you perform?”
“Rock mostly.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Crowd went wild.”
“You’d perform in heaven?”
He shrugs. “Most of the time. If I felt bold, sometimes the band and I would do a show on Earth. I’m telling you humans would just throw themselves at you, begging to be fucked in some grimy ass restroom.”
You scrunch your nose. “Sounds gross.”
“It was,” he says with a faltering smile. He cocks his head to the side, and there’s a softness to his words. “Gross as shit, but the girls were hot.” 
You cross your ankles together, and turn to face him. Your arm cushions itself between the couch and your head to watch him. “Do you not play anymore?” you ask hesitantly,
He sucks on his bottom lip, teething at the skin, before letting it go. “I haven’t tried to summon my harp- guitar- shit, thing, since I’ve been here.” He closes his hands into a loose fist and kicks his legs up on the beaten coffee table. “There’s this pawn shop a few streets down, and they have this guitar for sale.”
“Are you thinking about buying it?”
“I have other shit to worry about.” He gives you a look, a fleeting sense of  exhaustion and acceptance that washes over him, that makes him feel a bit more real, a bit more like you. “It isn’t even that good.” He sounds like a child, trying to justify something to themselves. “It’s beat up, and the strings are probably worn-” he shakes his head- “it's not worth it.” You open your mouth to reassure him that it probably is worth it. That despite the condition that it’s in and the price for it, if he wants it, it's worth it. Even if he could never play it, even if it’ll never be restored to its original beauty, it would be his. You only manage to suck in a gulp of air, when a knocking at the balcony door grabs your attention. “Some fucking bird that keeps bothering me.” He looks over at you, and glances back to the door, and back at you. “I have a balcony. Wanna sit outside?”
You nod quickly, closing your mouth. “Yeah.” 
He walks past the door, and leaves it open for you. Just like when you entered, you close the door behind you, half-heartedly hoping that it won’t lock behind you. His balcony holds two chairs- both different kinds and both equally as rough looking. A part of you wonders where exactly he got this furniture. There’s a dying plant shoved in the corner, the leaves brown and stem wilting under the weight of the dying leaves. 
“Quit judging,” he snips. 
You scoff, a smile teasing at the corner of your lips. The air of Hell is cool, wind breezing over your skin and you stare down into the streets, watching as Imps and Sinners live their lives, peacefully uninterrupted. Sitting down, your breath hitches when the chair dips under your weight. It’s quiet between the two of you, silence in each other’s company where you both just stare at the world in front of you. 
You can see the holy light from the embassy, and you can see Heaven’s light- the rings that are protected by wings. It lights up the night sky far better than the pentagram ever has, and sitting under the light of it, makes you wonder if anything is different in Heaven since Adam’s death- or rather, reincarnation. “Do you miss Heaven?” You ask, before you can register the weight of the words that it holds. You turn to him, almost scared of any answer that he would give.
“That’s a stupid question,” he spits out. You don’t respond, and you stay looking at him. He turns his head to avoid your gaze, his legs stretching out in front of him. After a beat of silence, he looks ahead of him. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I do.”
“What do you miss about it?”
“Full of fucking questions, aren’t ya?” He stays silent, and after a moment, he lets out a soft sigh. “Everything.”
“There’s not many stories about Heaven down here. You know, minus the ones that we all know. The golden gates-”
“Pearly gates,” he corrects. You look at him, and he has his eyes casted down. “They’re pearly.”
“The pearly gates,” you correct, “the clouds, the happiness and peace. I just- Other than that, there’s nothing else to go off of. But I guess, why would I know. Heaven seems so far away, like some mythical place.”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t talk about it?” Adam asks with a sneer.
“No,” you answer without hesitation. “He doesn’t like talking about Heaven. Sometimes-” you lick your lips- “Sometimes it feels like he hates everything and everyone down here. Like he can’t stand the idea that he’s stuck here.” You scratch your neck, and pinch your legs together. “It’s like the memories of Heaven are too painful.”
“That magazine said y’all were breaking up.”
“Maybe,” you answer.
“You can talk about it if you want. Would make this night a helluva lot more interesting.” You look at him. “I’m all ears.”
“And horns,” you tease.
“Fuck you,” he says with an impish tone.
You smile, and kick out your legs. Your phone buzzes, and with hope, you believe that it’ll be Lucifer. Your heart sinks when it’s only a notification from Sinstagram. With a frown, you silence your phone. “In the beginning, it was easy to forget that he was married. I mean, I always knew. He has her portraits hanging, and he talks about Charlie constantly.” You smile bitterly and scratch at your phone case. “I don’t blame him for that, but-” you shrug- “it hurts knowing that he still clings to her.” When Adam stays silent, you continue. “He can be kind- real attentive and sweet. But sometimes, when he’s had a uh-” you struggle to find a word- “a bad day, he gets real low. And I hate to admit it, but he gets clingy and it’s nice to know that I can still serve him in some way.”  Your fingers pinch at the bridge of your nose, and you let your hand cover your mouth. “But then, there are moments, where it feels like he’s actually looking at me- where he’s just everything,” you say wistfully, your hand stretching out in front of you, clasping around the night air. You glance at Adam, who watches your hand as you pull it back to yourself. “Sorry, I uh, I didn’t mean to ramble.”
“So why’d you leave then?”
Perhaps you’d get a biased opinion- you’re aware of how Adam feels over Lucifer, and practically every other inhabitant of Hell. He thinks of himself above any other, his own pride being the very thing that made him unaware of Niffty running towards him. You chew on your lip, your hand scratching over your neck. You need to speak to someone. No one else at the hotel will ever give you a straight answer- or at least the answer that you want to hear.
With a sigh, you kick your legs out in front of you. “I like Lucifer.” You can feel his eyes on you. “But, sometimes,” you drag the word, and your body feels hot, “it’s like he’s not present in the relationship. He gives a lot, but he hardly ever asks for anything.”
There’s a pause. “What could you even give him?” he asks in sincerity. 
There’s a pang in your chest, wrapping tightly, threatening to crush your bones, and leaving you a battered and broken mess on Adam’s balcony. You can’t give him anything that he doesn’t want. He has his daughter, he had his wife, he has his title for better or for worse. All you can offer is a moment of content, and even then it seems that you can no longer do that.
You shrug your shoulders at an attempt of a weak answer. “I know that he’s still not over his wife. Or ex-wife. I'm not too sure of the title and I hate to ask. He gets all mopey and deflective.” You kick at the ground, and insecurity hugs you tightly, and drips into your words. “He stares at portraits of her, and well, it’s hard to compete with the literal Queen of Hell, when I’m just-” your jaw stiffens, and you look at the ground through blurring eyes- “me.” You stand in her shadow without even having met her. “Even when I dress up, I feel like a child playing pretend. I don’t- I’m not like her.” You’ve stared at her portraits that still hang in the palace, and they consume you. Her smile, her delicate hands, and the elegance that is so evident in portraits.  It feels childish to compare yourself to someone so regal and poised. 
“Yeah,” he sighs. “My ex was pretty hot.” Your eyes widen, and you turn to him. “They both were.” He lets out a sigh, and keeps his eyes fixed in front of him.
“Adam,” you squeak out. “I’m sorry.” You shake your head, blood rushing to your face, making your body uncomfortably warm. “I hadn’t meant- I didn’t mean to talk about her with you. I’m so sorry.”
“The fuck are you apologizing for?” He asks, eyes narrowed and mouth twisting to an ugly sneer.
You cross your arms over your chest, bringing them to an ‘X’ where your hands curve over your biceps. “It’s just that I’m talking about Lucifer and your ex-wife.” You frown when he gives you an ugly look. “I just- I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
He gives a shrug of his shoulders, his gaze still focused elsewhere. “Lucifer already talked shit about how he banged both of them. It's whatever.”
Your brows furrow, and you watch as Adam pats his pockets, fisting a hand into one of his pants pockets. He fishes out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing on and sticking the tan end of it into his mouth. He motions the carton at you, and you pull your mouth into a thin line. 
“If you're gonna bitch about smoking, you're one lame sinner.”
“Eve? He slept with Eve, too?”
“Oh shit.” The cigarette hangs between his teeth, until pulls it back into his mouth. “You didn't know.” He almost sounds apologetic. He grabs at a lighter and it takes a few clicks to light the white of the stick.
“He doesn't really talk about his sex life before me.” You slump further into yourself, your nails scratching over your skin. “It's in the past. I know I shouldn't be hurt over what he's chosen to share with me, but-” you toss your head back, and in the red sky, the stars are dim. “I don’t know. It just feels like another kick on a shitty night, ya know?”
“I’m shitty?” He almost sounds offended. 
“No, no” you shake your head. “If anything, you’re like the one good thing out of this night.”
“Yeah, well, you ain’t so bad yourself.” You turn to him, your head cocked to the side. “You got a nice body. If you weren’t stuck here, I would’ve bagged you already.” You stretch your lips thin, and Adam shrugs, blowing out a puff of smoke.  “You’re easy on the eyes.”
“Thanks Adam,” you say hesitantly. He holds out the cigarette towards you and you wave your hand. “I’m good.”
“So what now? You gonna go back to him?”
“I don’t even think he knows that I’m gone,” you say honestly. The confession makes you feel lighter than you thought it would. “It’s comfortable with him. It’s easy- I don’t have to worry about things, but, I also don’t have to worry about anything. And sometimes, I want to worry. I want him and I to argue about dumb shit, and I want to worry if he’s coming to bed or not, and not being resigned to the fact that I know he won’t.”
The silence is broken by the scraping of the chair, and you watch as he rises, stretching his arms above him, the cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Eve tolerated me,” he says quietly, letting out a breath of smoke. You look at him, biting at the inside of your cheeks. “She loved me for a while. She was devoted to me. But I uh- I’m pretty sure that was because she was made from me.” A hand cups over his side. “Blind loyalty or whatever. But when she bit that apple, whatever she felt for me was gone.” He speaks quietly, and slowly, as if the words and the thoughts of it were slowly piecing themselves together, a puzzle that he had long put away in order for it to never make sense. “She didn’t care what I did as long as I left her and the-'' someone below lets out a scream, and Adam turns to you, his face flashing a moment of vulnerability before he looks away and puts out the cigarette under his boot. “Well, Eve was Eve.” His brows soften, and he looks tired. “I didn’t tolerate her.”
“Meaning?” You ask quietly.
He shrugs. “I did love her. She had a part of me after all.” He looks over at you, and his hand tightens over his side, pulling at the fabric. “But that’s not important anymore.” He turns away, and walks back inside. You scurry after him, making sure to lock the balcony door behind you.
You stand awkwardly in the room, unsure of what to do next. Truth be told, you had planned to spend the night in some dingy motel if Adam hadn’t sat beside you. But now you’re here, in his dingy apartment, truths and insecurities laid out for the two of you to bear witness. A part of you wants to bid him goodnight, and maybe when you’d see him out in the streets, you’d give him a  cordial nod, and remember how he listened and talked about his ex-wife, and he’d remember you in positive light, despite you only being a mess of insecurities wrapped in sin. 
But now, you don’t want to leave. At least a part of you wants to continue this conversation, to keep the comfort wrapped tight around you. You tap your foot against the ground and Adam looks at you, his eyes staring at yours, unwavering from yours. You hadn’t realized just how powerful he stood beforehand. 
“You can stay if you want,” he says slowly, unsure of the words that he’s saying. “Take the couch or whatever,” he attempts to sound indifferent, but you can hear the sincerity in the words, uncomfortable, but sincere. “I got a spare blanket you can use.” His teeth are sharp, and they peek out to tease at his bottom lip.
“Really?” You ask, eyes wide and you take a step forward, and he looks away. “I can?”
His mouth thins into a grimace, and he gives a forced shrug. “Do whatever you want.”
You look at the couch. It wasn’t uncomfortable to sit on, but you’re sure you’ll wake up with a sore back. However, you don’t want to go back to Lucifer, and you don’t want to go to some dingy motel where you’re sure you’ll drink until you’re sick. Looking back at Adam, you nod, a smiling teasing at the corners of your lips, and he finally looks away from you.
“Yes!” You clear your throat. “Yes,” you say in a softer tone. “I’d like that. Thank you, Adam.”
“Whatever.” He walks into his bedroom, and you sit on the couch. He returns with a blanket, and he stands at the end of the couch, looking at you. “I’m not making you breakfast or anything. You gotta figure that shit out on your own.” You nod. The only real worry that you have is that your phone’s battery is at an uncomfortable percentage that you aren’t sure is going to last you.
“I hope Hell is nice for you.” He raises his brows at you. “It’s shitty and the smell of decay is always kinda there, but sometimes, it’s nice down here.”
“Hell is supposed to suck.”
“And it does,” you say with a shrug. “But not all the time, Ads.”
“Don’t call me that.” He tosses a blanket at you- it’s thin and threads have begun to unravel at the seams, but it’s soft. “I’m turning off the lights.”
“Goodnight,” you call out, holding the blanket close to you. You can only smile when the response is a closed door.  
119 notes · View notes
fallow-hollow · 2 days
Note
Hiii I am Dying of nervousness sending in a request for the first time but could I get Mithrun and a gn!reader? Nothing else needs to be specific, just that (sorry if I am making it difficult for you ^^')
body heat
Tumblr media
…ft! mithrun x gn! reader
…tags! fluff, post-canon, spoilers for manga and ending, established relationship, cuddling
…word count! 955
…notes! don’t see a lotta mithrun content out there, so i’m happy to write for him! i hope this meets your expectations anon!!
Tumblr media
“Mithruuuun,” you whined, unable to see your lover even when looking over your shoulder. “C’mere with me and light the fire already, it’s so cold in here.”
Mithrun shot you a glance from where he stood a distance away, despite the fact that you couldn’t return it. “Is it? I can’t tell.”
His flat tone of voice made it even more obvious that the elf truly knew nothing of the agony you were experiencing, imbuing you with a sense of lighthearted frustration. Tossing your head back, you would groan,
“Of course you can’t tell, you’d wear a flowy tunic even if it was a blizzard outside! Now come help me!”
Without as much of a sound to warn you, the man suddenly appeared at your side, causing you to both jump and squeak from the spontaneous nature of his movement. Scratch that, knowing him, it was probably teleportation. Hardly necessary, considering how close you were, but you wouldn’t put it past your lover to do such a thing just to scare you. What a tease…..
“I don’t mind helping you, but sometimes I do wonder if you choose not to do it on your own just to spend time with me.”
Now, it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for Mithrun to say something like this completely genuinely, but the ghost of a smirk gracing those gorgeous features of his let you know that he was most certainly poking fun at you right now. He could be so arrogant sometimes… not that you truly minded.
Ever since Mithrun had recently retired to live with you in the still fledgling Golden Country, you’d noticed him start to become ever so slightly livelier at times. In the past, he’d always said he was grateful that you didn’t meet him when he was so pompous and flippant, but to you, a few snarky remarks here and there didn’t bother you at all. If anything, it meant that he could reclaim his old self while also embracing the new, which made a hopeful prospect for your shared future.
While you were in the process of pondering these feelings, the man beside you went right ahead with his magic. Though he mainly specialized in teleportation magic, any self-respecting member of the Canaries, former or otherwise, knew how to do something as simple as create some flame. The firewood you’d piled up caught almost instantly, creating a blaze that was perfect in both size and temperature.
“Thank you.” You acknowledged him with a nod, figuring that was all he would do. It seemed that Mithrun had other plans, however, judging by his choice to lift up one end of your blanket and wedge himself into the space next to you. A bit confused, you shot him a glance. “I thought you said you weren’t cold?”
He hummed. “But I want to be with you.”
Want. It was such a strange word to hear from Mithrun. For the longest time, he insisted he was unable to want anything at all, aside from the burning need for vengeance. Even now, he struggled with things like eating or sleeping. So to hear that he wants you, of all things…
You did nothing to hide the smile on your face. “You always can, you big goof.”
Whenever the two of you snuggled, your lover never really knew where to put his hands. This rang just as true now, with his arms awkwardly hovering on either side of you, unsure where to grasp or hold. With an almost practiced sense of effortlessness, you guided him to wrap both arms around your waist, positioning one at a time.
For a man so strong, he was quite pliant under your touch. One could easily say that it was his own apathy causing such behavior, but on the other hand, it was nice to believe that he chose to do so of his own free will.
He certainly had no trouble plopping his head down on your shoulder, completely unbothered by the way his cheek was squished from the proximity. How could someone be so battle hardened yet so…..cute?
“You comfy?”
The elf hummed affirmatively, the sound slightly muffled by the close contact. You allowed one hand to snake behind his back and rest comfortably on his hip, meanwhile the other grasped the edge of the blanket to keep it snugly wrapped around you. Honestly, Mithrun could probably be in the strangest position imaginable and still consider himself perfectly comfortable, so you weren’t entirely sure why you asked. It just felt… nice to check in on him. Like the right thing to do, no matter how obvious his answer may be to you.
Soft crackling sounds served as the backdrop for these thoughts, all while your lover remained still and relaxed by your side, having some ponderings of his own. Without you, Mithrun often found it difficult to settle down. He was getting a little better at knowing when to rest and eat in recent days, but even at times where he was well aware of the tiredness weighing him down, it was difficult to want to rest. Especially when what he wanted even more was to wait for you.
With you, he was able to feel at ease in a way that he still struggled with for the most part. Just like that dwarf had told him, even vegetable scraps could grow anew when placed in the soil and cared for. Maybe you were the earth, and he wanted nothing more than to relax while surrounded by you. He really wasn’t great at metaphors, so he couldn’t quite tell.
Of one thing, though, he could certainly be sure.
“I think that it should get cold more often.”
Tumblr media
70 notes · View notes
raapija · 21 hours
Note
hi! as a prompt for pookie au (which i love), how do you think carlos would react to finding out his dad is dating LANCE of all people? would he be immediately freaking out or would he hold it in and rant to charles about it later?
Thank you for the prompt. <3
(Carlos and Charles hadn't yet met, as this is set in 2018.)
summary: Lance talks with Carlos for the first time after Lance and Fernando told him they were dating. Also some strollonso fluff to balance it out.
warnings: some swearing, Carlos being extremely mean to Lance
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lance fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie. He could feel his ears burning as Carlos stared at him from the other side of the patio table. The cool evening air made his skin tingle.
"Why?" he heard Carlos ask after what had felt like 15 minutes of silence. Lance had sat down with him after having dinner with Fernando. It was the first time they told Carlos that they were together. Lando or Oscar probably would've blurted it out at some point, but it was definitely easier to tell him like this.
"What?" Lance asked for him to clarify what exactly he meant by 'why?.' He couldn't really look at Carlos, because he knew he was staring daggers back at him. They had been racing together for years, but had never really became friends or spent time together. Carlos was also a couple years older than him and had always been kind of intimidating to Lance. Something about those dark brown eyes.
"Why my dad? Of all people, why him?" Carlos continued his questioning. Now Lance looked at him and his heart skipped a few beats as he saw the expression on Carlos' face. Contempt.
"I love him."
Carlos scoffed and Lance felt something inside him shift. He straightened in his seat and took a deep breath. He wasn't going to give in.
"Listen," he started. "I really do like him. I know it's fucking weird that he's older and you're older than me, but so what? We like each other. It's not just some fling. He's done a lot for me and I for him. I love him."
Carlos studied him from across the table. The longer he didn't say anything, the faster Lance's heart beat. Adrenaline rushing in his veins as if he was on a race track, trying to overtake him at a high-speed corner. In the end, it was Carlos who averted his eyes to look away.
"If you break his heart, I'll kill you." Carlos said and Lance breathed out. His face was serious. "I've seen what it's like for him, and I don't want to see that again, ever. So don't you dare."
"I won't hurt him. I promise." Lance said and Carlos' eyes moved back to focus on him.
"You promise?" he chuckled, now sounding condescending. "That's what the last guy said as well. And then he left him."
Lance's heart was about to burst out of his chest. Maybe he couldn't overtake in the corner and instead would crash into the wall.
"My dad gave everything to me. He gave me a chance when no one else would. He doesn't deserve you. He's got all he needs in me and my brothers. He loves us. Not you. " Carlos said, his words cutting right through Lance like little knives. It made his throat turn dry. "You understand?"
"I do." Lance got out. Carlos' chair dragged painfully on the tile flooring of the patio when he stood up to leave. As he walked past Lance, he gave him a strong pat on the shoulder and made Lance flinch. Crashed, in the wall. Game over.
"I'll be watching you." Carlos said and then stepped back into the house, leaving him alone. Lance breathed out and a flood of emotions ran through him as he relaxed. He was 20. Just barely got into F1 and immediately started dating a 37 year-old with three grown kids. This really did sound like some sort of a breakdown if you looked at it from the outside. Still, he was glad the only person at his throat was Carlos and not the media. Only a few people knew, and that was for the best. He had enough on his plate as a 'pay-driver'.
¬
Later that night, Lance was laying in bed, deep under the covers and waiting for Fernando to join him. He had been in this bed countless times before, but the idea of Carlos lurking somewhere in the same house made him uneasy.
He could finally hear Fernando's familiar footsteps climbing up the staircase to the second floor where the bedroom was. As soon as he stepped into the room, Lance's mind stopped racing.
"You okay?" the Spaniard asked as he sat down on the other side of the bed from Lance. He must've sensed Lance's anxiety all the way from downstairs.
"Yeah. Talked to Carlos." Lance said and turned onto his side so he could see Fernando better. The older man laid his watch and jewelry from his wrists on the bedside table and the slid under the covers. They were both facing each other and Lance scooted a little closed so Fernando could wrap an arm around him.
"How it go? Not too scary, I hope." Fernando's voice was soothing and Lance settled against his chest, warm skin touching his forehead. He felt Fernando press little kisses into his hair on the top of his head.
"He only threatened to kill me, so not that bad." Lance said and Fernando laughed. Him laughing made it feel a bit better, like he wasn't actually going to get beat up if he made one mistake.
"That's my Carlito." Fernando hummed and squeezed Lance a little closer to him, slowly running his hand up and down his back. "Don't worry about him. He likes to pretend he's tougher than he is."
"He told me someone broke your heart before so he didn't want me to repeat that." Lance said and Fernando's hand stopped moving.
Lance heard a quiet 'oh...' and wriggled back a bit to look at him. Fernando's eyes were sad. Lance didn't like that.
"I'm sorry."
"No, no." Fernando hurried to stop him from apologizing. He moved his hand up and set it on Lance's cheek. "That's nothing. History. I got you now, so it's okay."
"Yeah?" Lance asked and Fernando gently tucked a bit of his hair behind his ear. The Spaniard smiled at him, his eyes back to normal and happy. The things Carlos had said still irked at the back of Lance's brain, but he didn't press on it.
"You fix me." Fernando said and moved in to kiss Lance on the forehead. He then pulled him close again and held his arm tight around him. "I talk with Carlito tomorrow. Tell him to be nice to you."
Lance hummed and could already feel himself falling asleep. It felt so safe with Fernando. Strong arms holding onto him and his warmth transferring into him. Everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay.
61 notes · View notes
Note
Hi there! First, I wanna say I absolutely love your works; they are all great, and I enjoy reading every one of their reactions!
Can I request to see HLC (including professors) react to MC sniffing them (out for many reasons, but mainly they want to remember their smell)? Just genuinely curious about what they would usually smell like :) Thank you! And wish to see more works of yours!
A/N: laughing so hard the whole time writing this 🤣
HLC REACT TO MC SNIFFING THEM
SEBASTIAN SALLOW: Old books and smoke. He smells like a stack of forgotten tomes that were set on fire. He raises an eyebrow and laughs. "You're not going to lick me next, are you?"
OMINIS GAUNT: Clean linens and a touch of mint. "...did you just sniff me?" One would think he'd be used to MC's weird behavior by now. Alas, he is not.
ANNE SALLOW: Wild flowers. She smells like she's been laying out in a meadow in spring. She smells her own robes. "What? Do I smell bad?"
IMELDA REYES: Broom polish and various wood scents. She gives MC a strong side-eye glare. "What are you doing?"
NATSAI ONAI: Incense and fresh cut grass. She gives MC an unsure look but smiles anyway. "You're acting strange. Even by your standards."
GARRETH WEASLEY: He smells like an apothecary shop threw up on him, that also exploded. "What? Do I still smell like burnt rat hair? I thought I got that out."
LEANDER PREWETT: Cheap cologne that screams "try hard", but at the same time isn't overly offensive. He side steps away from MC. "Please, stop that."
AMIT THAKKAR: Parchment and spilled ink. He startles when MC sniffs him and he jumps away like a startled cat. "What was that about?"
EVERETT CLOPTON: Depends on the day. There is no consistency with him. Some days he smells like a pack of dung bombs, others he smells like a summer breeze. He sweats nervously, hoping that MC doesn't smell dung bombs.
POPPY SWEETING: Ever smelled a horse with feathers? That's her. She watches MC curiously. "What are you sniffing around like a niffler for?"
~~~
ELEAZAR FIG: A well kept library. Old leather and parchment. He sniffs MC back. "I'd say we're both due for a wash after all the running around we've been doing."
MATILDA WEASLEY: Orchids, her favorite floral scent. She gives MC an unsure glance. "You could just ask what perfume I use."
CHIYO KOGAWA: Leather and sweat. Even with quidditch canceled, she's always out and about the grounds. "Don't sniff. That's rather rude."
AESOP SHARP: The wizard equivalent of Old Spice and a hint of fire whiskey. He just rolls his eyes. He doesn't get paid enough for this.
ABRAHAM RONEN: Sugar and cinnamon. Always smells like he just came back from Honeydukes. "Oh my, do I smell bad?" He's genuinely concerned and smells his own robes.
MIRABEL GARLICK: A garden. Flowers, soil, pottery; the whole shabang. "I was repotting mandrakes with the third years today. Sorry if I smell a bit ripe." She laughs.
MUDIWA ONAI: Incense and palm oil. She offers MC some incense. "Would you like to burn some for your dorm? You smell like you could use it."
BAI HOWIN: She works in beast pens all day. Enough said. MC doesn't even need to get close to smell her on some days.
DINAH HECAT: Amazingly. Nothing. Her time as an unspeakable has taught her to be undetectable, even by smell. Old habits die hard.
CUTHBERT BINNS: He doesn't so much give off a scent, as he does a cold chill if MC gets too close.
SATYAVATI SHAH: VERY faint smell of cherry blossom. She's very guarded of her personal space, so MC will have a hard time catching it.
PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: Expensive cologne and hair tonic. He steps away from MC. Ew. Students.
62 notes · View notes
tangerinesgirl · 3 days
Text
Pull Some Strings
Tumblr media
Fem!Reader x Frank/Adam Barrett (Abigail)
Word count: 1.1k
Rating: 18+, explicit
Warnings: smut, denied orgasm, GodComplex!Frank, JOI, degradion, Frank swearing a lot (as usual), pet names, vaguely non con if you squint bc mind control
Summary: You've been flirting with Frank the entire evening. He tests his new vampire powers and turns you into his puppet. Things get freaky.
Notes: this seems too good to not have been done before, I did have a search beforehand so I'm sorry if it does exist! We need more Frank smut ASAP! Also, reader has nipple piercings in this and there's use of Y/N.
You jump awake with a burning hot pain in your neck. You reach to touch the wound but you find nothing there. Memories start to play in your mind, how Frank willingly accepted the offer to be turned into a monster, while you sat on the floor helpless. You were heartbroken that he could turn into a traitor like that, after the two of you fighting so hard together, but the other part of you couldn't keep your eyes off him, seeing him covered in blood, moaning as Lambert gave him his new life. You watch in horror as he stakes Lambert through the heart, you try to grab the shelf behind you to get up, but Frank stamps on your arm, breaking it instantly. You scream as he pulls your hair, exposing your neck to him.
Frank whispers in your ear, "I'm going to make you my puppet, and we're going to have a little fun". You whimper as he pecks a little kiss on the side of your mouth, and dives his teeth into your neck. You can feel yourself getting colder, your body twitching as you loose consciousness.
*
"Y/N....you are mine"
The sound of Frank's voice lures you back awake. You're in a bedroom somewhere, but you can tell you're still in this god forsaken house. "Oh good you're awake". You look around the room instinctively trying to find the source of the voice.
"What's going on?"
"Keep up sweetheart, did you not pay attention to what happened to Sammy? Or were you too busy trying to get me to fuck your brains out?"
Your mind jumps back to how you flirted playfully with Frank the whole evening. The car ride where you were zipping your hoodie down to make your breasts pop out. When you brushed past him to open the door. The way you would look at his lips, and chew the bottom of yours every time he gave the crew orders. You found him very attractive, and the dominance was a huge turn on for you.
You sit next to him at the bar in the house, "You know, I'm very much into the hot boss scenario". Your hand brushes against his as you reach for your drink. In a split second, Frank pins your hand to the counter and grabs your neck with the other one, "You're really going to flirt with me when we have bigger fucking problems right now?"
Everyone in the group stares at you as you go bright red from embarrassment. You decide to roll with it, liking how agitated Frank is getting at your advances. Afterall you've nothing to loose, no one will know your true name after this. You moan loudly with a "oh yes, harder daddy". Frank lets you go in disgust. He spits out a "fucking whore" under his breath. You hear him and giggle, "only for you" and blow him a kiss as he walks away.
*
Your mind snaps back to reality. "I know how you like being told what to do, and I'm curious to see if this actually fucking worked first time... So...Frank says, take off your hoodie". You immediately unzip your hoodie without a moment's thought, "What the fuck?"
"Frank says undo your bra". You do as he says, part of you is very much into him finally reciprocating what you've been putting down the whole evening, even in these circumstances.
"Frank says play with your nipples". You moan as you grab your breasts and tug gently on your nipples.
"Wait I can feel something cold...do you have piercings? That's fucking hot... Frank says undo your belt". The belt clinks to the floor, you can somehow tell that Frank is doing the same, wherever he is.
"Frank says undo your buttons". You unzip your jeans, and dip your hand in further, you can feel the wetness growing in your underwear as you try and find some kind of friction.
"Frank says stop. Frank didn't say to do that now, did he?"
You shake your head.
"Use your words"
"No"
"No what?"
"No sir"
"Good girl. Now. Frank says to circle your fucking clit. Slowly"
You moan softly, it's painful for you not to do anything else right now.
"Frank says stop"
The slow orders are making you impatient, you need more of a release, "please".
"Please what?"
"I need more"
"Then you fucking wait"
You can feel Frank playing with his cock, it pains you that you can't see, but you can feel him growing hard, the pre cum on his hands. You can even hear his subtle moans as he palms himself.
"Frank says dip your index finger into your pussy".
You sigh in relief as your hand finally enters you.
"Frank says insert another finger"
You fuck yourself open, Frank can hear the sound of your wetness and swears under his breath.
"You sound fucking soaked, the sound of my voice gets you this wet huh? Now...play with your clit".
You start to do so and Frank laughs, "Frank didn't say "Frank says" now did he?"
You cry out in agitation, "Frank please".
"Nah ah, what do you call me?"
"Sorry, sir"
"That's better baby. Frank says touch your clit"
You can feel yourself getting closer, Frank can too. "I'm going to cum Fr-sir, please can I cum?".
"Frank says stop"
"No!" You whimper as you pull your hands out of you. Denying you of your orgasm makes Frank's come quicker, the power over you as well as being a newly turned vampire makes him feel like a God. He takes off his shirt as he starts to cum on his chest. You can feel the hot liquid on your chest too. Your hands feel around but there's nothing there. You're really pissed off, but still very much aroused. Frank moans as he continues to empty himself on his chest, it seems to last forever. As he finally comes to a stop, he lets out one last big moan. "Do you want to taste?"
Part of you wants to give him the silent treatment for the way he just used you, but you say "yes sir" like the good puppet you are.
Frank takes a finger of his cum off his chest and wipes it on his lips. He licks it up with his tongue. You can feel the taste slowly seeping into your mouth, you bite your lip and swirl your tongue around, lapping up every invisible drop. It's salty, with a hint of iron, but oddly creamy at the same time.
"I think that was a pretty successful test, wouldn't you say, Y/N?"
You finally find your backbone after Frank and his stupid voice turned it into mush, "Fuck you".
"Oh I will, right after I kill me a vampire"
34 notes · View notes
welcometomyoasis · 4 hours
Text
Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu headcanons
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Synopsis: A series of headcanons in which Mingyu is a firefighter, but also your boyfriend. Mingyu x gn! reader | firefighter au, fluff | 1.6k words | warnings: fires, nudity (Mingyu goes shirtless more than once), suggestive, injuries (cat scratches and bruises), food, fear of heights A/n: a sequel to this fic, but it can be read as a standalone. I also got carried away… look at these pictures... you all can suffer with me. original credits to @\gyulty  
Tumblr media
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who is a firefighter, and also your hot, sexy boyfriend.
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who always leaves his grubby uniforms by the door so the house is always clean. The grime from his job should not dirty the house. Of course, that does mean he’s often stripping by the door into his black, fitted, singlet or he’s just walking around the house shirtless. Not that you mind. He’s sculpted like those statues of greek gods. He’s a tease. He knows you like it too. He’ll walk around, all sweaty from his work, and then he’ll stretch to flex all his muscles. He likes the way you’ll flush, gulp and then quickly avert your eyes. Nothing you haven’t seen before and you still react in the way that drives him insane. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who works out with you by his side. He needs to be in peak physical condition. I mean, his job literally consists of him bashing through doors and rescuing people from burning buildings (and cats stuck on trees). He does most of the training at work, but when he’s at home, he still likes to do some weights, sit ups, or pushups. He’ll let you watch as he does the weights. Sit ups or push ups are also the best. He’ll get you to hold his feet down and he will kiss you every time he completes a sit up. He’ll also get you to press against his back/ sit on his back as he does push ups. Hey! If he has to carry people down burning buildings, you can do it, regardless of how much you weigh. Here’s the fun part. You love the way his biceps will flex. You get to watch his muscles flex and tense and then relax. Bonus, if there’s a stray trickle of sweat down his veiny arms. Mingyu just loves to fluster you. 100% will ask if you want to shower with him after. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who despite being the biggest tease there is, is also the cutest, most adorable puppy of a boyfriend ever. He felt bad when he moved in with you at first. His working hours are all so off and he could be called in at any time. He doesn’t like that you now have to adjust your schedule around him. But you tell him not to worry his pretty little head. He’s a big, strong firefighter who literally goes around saving people and cats! You would gladly adjust your schedule to suit his. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who needs sleep before his long shifts but will wake up an hour earlier than necessary so he can prepare his meals with you. He doesn’t want you to have to do all that by yourself. While the firehouse does have food, nothing will ever be as good as a home cooked meal by his s/o. Of course, sometimes he is still half asleep so he just wraps you in a back hug as you potter around the kitchen making his food. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who begins to sulk as soon as he knows he needs to get ready. He hates having to go for his shifts because they can sometimes last up to 48 hours. He clings to you so much he’s practically attached to you. He’s going to miss you. Cuddles and kisses are a must before he leaves. Hey, he doesn’t make the rules. And seriously, even if you give him all the attention in the world, he still pouts, sulks, and whines so much before he goes that you think he’s more of a puppy than a big, strong firefighter. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who continues to sulk all the way to the firehouse. He does text you selfies of himself sulking when he arrives. But he perks up immediately and gets right down to work when you reply him with a cute selfie of your own captioned “Fighting!” He’s going to do his best for you. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who starts his routine around the firehouse by checking his uniform, the equipment etc. He also checks his schedule to see who he is working with and what he’s in charge of that day. He narrows his eyes at seungcheol who just shrugs nonchalantly when mingyu realises he’s on cat duty again. Seriously? Cat duty? That’s the fourth time in a row… He begins to suspect jeonghan was on duty. The latter probably switched their schedules because jeonghan refuses to let a cat scratch his perfectly sculpted face. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who sighs and accepts his fate. And he’s soon called out to rescue a little orange cat from the top of a tree at the park. He’s gritting his teeth and trying not to break out into a sweat as he climbs to the top of the ladder. He smiles a little at the cat. The cat just looks at him. Mingyu swears that cat is evil because it begins screeching and hissing at mingyu. Then it just jumps off and lands perfectly on the grass. Now, Mingyu is stuck at the top of the ladder clutching his heart out. To think, the small cat scared the big, strong firefighter. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who needs to be coaxed down the ladder by his fellow firefighter. Dino is just shaking his head. Dino tries to coo at Mingyu. It doesn’t work. Dino tries pspspspspspssing at Mingyu. It also doesn’t work. Dino threatens Mingyu. It doesn’t work. Mingyu just seems to be clutching the ladder harder. Like is this seriously the firefighter of the year? This happens every single time Mingyu needs to be on a ladder in a situation that isn’t a real fire or a training exercise.
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who only comes down the ladder when Dino calls you for the upteenth time. Dino is in disbelief. All you needed to do was say that you missed Mingyu and that you would give him a reward for coming down the ladder. Dino tried everything? Then, Dino’s face scrunches in disgust. EWW. what kind of reward were you talking about? 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who stares at Dino in confusion. Reward? You make great chocolate chip cookies… 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who smacks Dino for being dirty minded, though Mingyu’s face is flushed at the thought of you giving him a different kind of reward. Ahem… anyway moving on…
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who gets excited when you make a trip to the firehouse. He’s showing you around (purposefully keeping you away from Dino), and showing you off to his co-workers. Jeonghan was convinced Mingyu made you up after inhaling too much smoke from a previous fire. Mingyu sticks his tongue out at Jeonghan when you happily introduce yourself to everyone. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who lets you play with the fireman’s pole. He lets you go up and down as many times as you want. Seungcheol just lets Mingyu do what he wants (as an apology for letting Jeonghan switch assignments with Mingyu… i mean, seungcheol can’t say no to jeonghan so this is all he can do to appease Mingyu). 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who suddenly gets called out for a job. It’s a real fire this time. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who kisses you so passionately in front of the others because this is dangerous and he’s trying to reassure you that he’ll be fine. You have to stand aside to let the rest of them get suited up, but Mingyu keeps eye contact with you until you can’t see him in the firetruck anymore. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who manages to complete the job safely. Now, all he wants to do is go home back into your arms. He returns to the firehouse only to see you seated at the entrance, all tensed up and rubbing your hands together nervously. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who throws his equipment to Dino (who doesn’t protest) and rushes into your outstretched arms. He hugs you so so tightly, not wanting to let you go. He hopes you don’t mind that he’s all grubby, dirty, and that he reeks of smoke. You don’t. He should stop worrying. All you cared about was the safety of your lover. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who whisks you up in his strong arms and takes you home once he’s able to clock out. It doesn’t matter how tired he is or how desperately he needs a shower. He’s going to take care of you first. It’s scary for you no matter how many times he’s done this. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who hugs you closer that night, whispering soft words of reassurance and “I love you” into your ear. He cradles you to sleep, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. He sighs in regret because he worries you, but if you were awake you would smack him for even thinking that way. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who settles down next to you, drifting off to the rhythmic motions of your breathing. He wonders why and how he ended up with someone as perfect and understanding as you. 
🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu whose last thought before he finally falls asleep is “I should put a ring on their finger…” 🔥. Firefighter boyfriend! Mingyu who maybe becomes your hot, sexy, firefighter husband! Mingyu soon?
Tumblr media
taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies
@mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii
@scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee
@hrts4hanniehae @treehouse-mouse @vcutparis @heavenfilm @bananabubble
32 notes · View notes
chicken-wayng · 2 days
Text
No Strings Attached
I do not own 911, obviously.
Current Word Count: 7, 086 (or around 26 pages)
Track#1: Bi, Bi Bi
It starts like it's going to be a normal night. Buck is on his way over, Chris is setting up their usual spot on the couch, and Eddie has just finished up burgers for their dinner. Then Eddie's phone pings with a message alert that changes the evening:
Would it be alright if Tommy joined us? Sorry it's such late notice but he’s got tonight off and…
Eddie doesn't read the rest of the message. His heart feels weird and he suddenly feels a little hot. It's not like the panic attack he'd experienced when he was afraid Ana and he were moving too fast, but it definitely is as uncomfortable. It feels like everything sturdy was pulled out from beneath him; which was a statement in itself from a man in his field of work. His ears ring as he types out a short response of consent.
Why does he feel so weird about Tommy coming over? Tommy has visited before and had dinner with Chris, but adding Tommy to family nights felt different in a way Eddie couldn't properly word. It felt entirely unreasonable how his entire being suddenly rejected Tommy's presence… And lately even Buck's. Ever since he'd announced his newest paramour, it seemed all Eddie heard about. Tommy likes this Star Wars themed coffee place near the 118, Tommy likes dark chocolate over milk chocolate, Tommy likes scary movies, Tommy likes video games, Tommy likes Buck and Eddie feels sick every time he thinks about it. Just the thought of it is horrible and it only makes Eddie feel worse. It's a vicious cycle of destruction he can’t stop himself from participating in.
A knock at the door interrupts his circling for now, but it's the subject of his thoughts knocking so it's like ice on a burn; a temporary fix with lasting damage. Chris lets out a cheer, grabbing his crutches and making his way towards the door. Eddie makes it after the excited boy, just in time to see Chris throw the door open and yell, “Buck!”
Eddie motions for Chris to step back and tells him to go make sure the living room is picked up while he gets the guests settled.
Buck is dressed in a pair of well fitting jeans and a purple sweater that hugs his body comfortably. A bit of his collarbone peaks out of the neck and it’s tight enough that Eddie can trace it without use of imagination, as it elegantly rises and falls with his broad shoulders. It’s a thin, dark purple sweater that brings out the blue of his eyes and the blonde highlights of his curls.
Tommy clears his throat, as if politely reminding the two he’s there, before stepping up behind Buck and holding up a bag of sour patch kids in his right hand. Eddie’s happy Tommy thought of Chris, but his attention narrows in on the left hand on Buck’s hip and suddenly he feels angry. Tommy smiles pleasantly as he says, “We brought a treat for the little dude and,” using that offending left hand he motions to a case of beer Eddie hadn’t had the time to notice in Buck’s hands. “some for us.”
It is a petty side of Eddie that makes him channel his father as he says, “Oh that’s so nice of you man, but it’s just that it's late and I don’t want Chris to have too much sugar before bed. Also I don’t think I want to drink, you can if you want I just don’t really need it to have a good time.”
Buck looks crestfallen and Tommy looks… odd but Eddie is saved from having to explain his attitude as Chris saunters back into the room. A huge cocky smile is on his face as he says, “I beat your score! It was so easy.”
Eddie’s earlier happiness briefly returns as he watches Buck separate himself from Tommy to go check the screen recording Chris had captured, both talking so excitedly it's easy to ignore his current discontentment. Until he has to turn around and entertain it.
“So how was work?” Tommy asks, friendly as ever. Dressed in a casual, pink v-necked sweater and jeans, Tommy looks genuinely comfortable. Eddie had known him well enough to know that while he was content and happy with the current life he’d built for himself, Tommy still had something he had been working through the last time Eddie and he had hung out. It seems that in the few weeks he’d been dating Buck, he'd gotten the metaphorical job done.
“Surprisingly boring,” Eddie says with a laugh, glad to have familiar territory to discuss. After returning the question, Tommy regales him with a tale of his day and Eddie slowly begins to relax. Realizing he hadn’t made a plate for Tommy, he does so as he listens as Tommy’s no-good day finally comes to an end that leaves them both laughing. It’s so easy to like Tommy, he’s such a great guy.
Realizing he’d kind of cornered himself into not drinking (not even his normal one bottle with dinner), Eddie grabs orange juice from the fridge and pours three glasses. Raising an eyebrow, Eddie asks, “Would you like one too?”
“Of course,” Tommy says, the left corner of his mouth quirking up as he leans on the counter. Something about it feels blatant to Eddie, but he’s not sure what it is. It’s too obvious and he’s never been one to guess the glaring plot, even with the number of telenovelas he’s watched. “Please and thank you, sir.”
Eddie jolts for a moment, an unexpected thrill going along his spine and traveling to a place it shouldn't be at a dinner party with his son, best friend, and his best friend’s boyfriend. He recovers quickly, but the damage was done in two ways. Not only does his jumping cause him to overspill, but he knocks over the glass intended for him as well. The orange juice covers the counter and quickly runs towards the floor, luckily Bobby was his cooking teacher and one of his tenants was to have a cooking rag. Eddie was able to sop most of it, but his shirt and jeans would have to be changed.
Tommy grabs the sink rag and uses it to wipe the sticky up, his shoulder bumping Eddie’s in the small space. They work to quickly clean up the mess and with their combined effort it doesn’t take more than two minutes.
Eddie tsks, shaking his head as he says, “I’m sorry man. Boring days get to me. Dinner is done so you don’t need to worry about it but I’ve got to change. Have Buck set you a spot at the table. Tell him the green mats are in the wash so he’ll have to make do with the yellow ones.”
“No problem. Now go before it starts to feel gross,” Tommy responds with a laugh.
Eddie passes Buck and Chris on the couch, who both look up with questioning countenances before noticing the spill down Eddie’s front. Eddie goes to his room, taking off the dirty clothes and going to his attached bathroom to wet a rag. Once he’s acceptably clean, he grabs the first shirt in his closet and quickly pulls on a pair of jeans. Pausing to check himself out in the mirror, he realizes it’s a blue sweater Buck had gotten him for father’s day. It has the word dad (and all related synonyms) all over it, in over a hundred languages, done in different shades of blue and eclectic fonts. Mentally preparing himself to go back, Eddie tells himself, “You haven't done anything wrong yet.”
Although not much of one, the pep talk does its job enough to get him out of his room. Chris and Buck are still on the couch, chatting happily, so Eddie goes back to the kitchen. Tommy has set the table and is now standing there, looking out the window with his arms wrapped around himself.
Now it's Eddie's turn to awkwardly clear his throat in announcement of himself, and he watches how Tommy jolts. The larger man turns to face Eddie, a guilty expression on his face and suddenly Eddie feels like shit. Tommy is his friend, no matter how Eddie's day went he has no right to make him feel so insecure.
“You okay man?” Eddie asks, not wanting to overstep but not wanting to fall short.
Tommy smiles, one so self-deprecating that Eddie recognizes it from the mirror, and says, “Yeah I just got in my own head. I can't stop beating myself up.”
“Don't,” Eddie says sternly, knowing how hypocritical the command is. “You wouldn't treat anyone that way so you don't do it to yourself. Want to share a beer with dinner?”
Tommy nods, grabbing them each one. The weird ice wall that had gone up seems to melt, conversation flows better as Eddie finishes grabbing all the needed condiments.
“...Anyways, it all boils down to human error,” Tommy finishes.
“People,” Eddie sighs as he grabs Chris’s burger, splitting it into four. “You'd think with a computer with all of human knowledge on it, we'd be smarter.” Eddie holds up a finger to halt Tommy before he responds so he can yell, “Boys, dinner! Go wash your hands.” He waits until he hears them scrambling up until he waves for Tommy to continue his thought.
“Oh but why learn when we can watch funny cat videos?” Tommy laughs, a deep rich sound that Eddie thinks fills the room pleasantly. It’s enthralling. “Much more important.” Tommy licks his dry lips to wet them, and Eddie would like to say that’s what drew his attention to them but then he’d be lying.
This close, Eddie can scent Tommy and it’s intoxicating. An alluring mixture of sandalwood, eucalyptus, and Kraken - whatever soap he uses and the deodorant - and most importantly Buck. The lavender and rosemary of the herbal hair products and the bergamont antiperspirant (“Never deodorant, Eddie. Not unless you want to smell me after two hours!”) Buck keeps spares of in Eddie’s bedroom bathroom. Distantly, Eddie notes that they’re both Old Spice guys too but mostly he can’t stop focusing on the fact that Tommy smells like Buck, which must mean the opposite is true. Something about this triggers Eddie’s earlier bad mood and he has to look away or else he just knows Tommy will see it.
As usual, he’s saved by Christopher as the excitable boy exclaims, “Dad please?!”
“Please what?” Eddie laughs, looking up at Buck with an eyebrow raised. The dirty blonde blushes and Eddie has to look away.
“Buck says there’s a new Kung Fu Panda movie out!” Christopher explains with a sigh. Eddie shares another look with Buck, this one much less confusing and clearly saying, ‘Kids, amiright?’
Buck laughs in response, moving towards his seat. Eddie would describe Tommy’s laugh as enthralling, the sound was nice and he would never grow tired of it; but Buck’s laugh was addicting. It felt like the times he went without it were the most miserable parts of his existence. He’d do anything to hear it for the rest of his life.
“Did you catch the game last night?” Tommy asks as he brings their beers over from the counter, taking a seat at the round dinner table, between Christopher and Buck, and across from Eddie.
“The college playoffs?” Eddie confirms as he holds up the mustard and ketchup bottles and in a silent question if Chris wants either. When he was younger he was normally a ketchup only kid, but ever since he'd entered his preteen years Chris liked to have the option.
“What else is on?” Tommy responds playfully.
“Ain't that the truth,” Eddie laughs as he puts the wanted mustard on the four cuts of burger. Eddie passes the bottle to Tommy and for a moment their hands brush and linger for a moment longer than necessary. Eddie brings his hand back with a grunt of apology.
“There was a new David Attenborough ocean documentary last night,” Buck comments, before taking a bite out of his burger.
Chris gasps as he asks, “You watched it without me?”
“No,” Buck laughs. “I watched the game with Tommy. I was making a joke because he implied there was nothing better on.”
“Ohhh,” Chris laughs too and then says. “You and Tommy should stay and watch it with us!”
With this he looks at his dad with such puppy eyes that Eddie only shrugs and responds, “It's up to them but we've gotta work tomorrow so they probably won't wanna, bud.”
And now it's Buck's turn to use his own Labrador eyes as he begs, “Tommy please? I have a set of clothes in my drawer big enough to fit you as pajamas!”
Eddie knows exactly how Tommy feels even before he gives his answer, because he's been there a thousand times for Evan Buckley:
whipped.
Track#2: Bringin' da Noise
Dinner goes pleasantly and soon they're heading for the living room to start Buck and Christopher’s documentary. The two settle into their usual spots, and just as Eddie is about to sit in his he realizes that he can't sit there. Normally Buck is sandwiched between the two Diazes but he'll probably want Tommy to sit next to him. Eddie hangs back and when Tommy stops to give him a questioning look he simply motions to the spot and says, “Currently the best place in the whole house.”
Tommy snorts and takes the seat and soon they're all settled and watching the TV. There's basic conversation between the three, but really they don't talk because Buck and Chris are paying more attention to David Attenborough. It's surprisingly comfortable, almost exactly the same as their normal routine. 
Halfway through, both Tommy and Eddie are out of their beers and Buck’s out of his orange juice. When Eddie goes to stand and grab them a refill, Tommy stops him and says, “Let me. You just relax and I'll be back soon.” 
Eddie thanks him and goes back to watching TV. It isn't until Tommy is coming back ten minutes later with a piece of paper does Eddie realize how long it had taken him to grab the drinks. The source of his stalling is apparent, as he doesn't have the drinks and instead holds up a “contract” Eddie recalls all too well for the drunken night it had been written. 
It was after Shannon had died, and Eddie had needed nothing more than to get drunk with his best friend. Chris was at abuela’s so Eddie wasn't worried about letting his inhibitions go, and let go they did. Unable to recall the exact circumstances, somehow Eddie had gotten into an emotional state wherein he was complaining about being alone forever. Chris was growing up, soon he'd be 18 and then college and Eddie would be left with an empty nest. Equally as drunk, Buck had been reminded of a movie he and Maddie had watched where the main characters agree to get married if they aren't by a certain age. Long story short, they had decided to create a similar contract. Written on one a piece of construction paper for a project of Chris's, in the worst handwriting and so badly misspelled it looked like old English, was written,
I, Edmundo Diaz, of sound mine do hereby declare if by ages, 45 and 40 respetifly, we are unmarried then I will marry Evan Buckley.
It's simple and to the point, written big to take up the paper. Buck had doodled little hearts and flowers to border it and over the years that it had resided in the kitchen it had obtained a few cooking splatters of unidentifiable sorts. A piece of paper that truly should have been thrown away by now, yet Eddie had persistently kept on the fridge regardless of how many girlfriends gave him funny looks over it.
“Did you guys make a Wedding Pact?” Tommy asks, and to hear it from anyone else, especially a man of Tommy's stature and profession, Eddie might have been nervous but from him Eddie feels only a fierce protectiveness that makes no sense. 
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Eddie snappily defends them, crossing his arms. 
“Wait,” Buck says, swallowing and halting himself mid-sip of his beer. “You don't think it's a good idea anymore?”
Once again he's channeling his inner Golden Retriever to give Eddie the most pitiful look, one that has him scrambling to explain, “No! Not at all!” Somehow Buck's face falls further and Eddie further says, “Or, not no I don't want to marry you. I definitely do!” Seeing Tommy's joyantly raised eyebrow, Eddie further digs his hole. “Er, I mean I don't not want to marry you when- IF!- if the time comes.”
Tommy laughs, the joy and his eyes taking over his countenance as he says, “Oh my God, you two!” His own laughter cuts him off. 
Eddie's face feels hot and he distracts himself by putting the subtitles on. 
“It's a completely valid contract,” Buck says. “I would pay to have it notarized!”
“I would notarize it for you now,” Tommy responds. “If I had a printer for the finalizing paperwork.”
“Dad has a printer!” Chris helpfully offers. 
“It's notarized in our hearts,” Buck says with a dismissive hand wave. The conversation ends, and they settle into a comfortable silence filled with the narrations of Mr. Attenborough. Eddie feels like something has shifted, even though Tommy just sits down and they go back to watching TV.
Once the credits start rolling, Eddie turns to tell Chris to get started on his night time routine but stops when he sees him passed out with Buck. Both are laying in the same sprawling-fashion, heads thrown back and mouths open, tucked into each other like they couldn't sleep as soundly without the other - and truly they couldn't. Eddie lets the credits roll through and another doc play as he observes his little family.
And then his eyes glance next to him and he realizes he isn't the only one completely enraptured. Tommy has a soft smile and suddenly Eddie feels…
“What time is it?” Tommy asks, his head darting up as he realizes Eddie was staring at him. 
Eddie checks his phone, it's late. “12:46, we should probably get them in bed.”
Eddie stands up, his body aching from a good day's worth of work, so he twists his back to crack it and alleviate some of the pain. 
“I could help you with that really quick,” Tommy says. “I got my masseuses license.”
“Wow, vet, firefighter, pilot, masseuse; you're pretty skilled,” Eddie responds as he thinks over Tommy's offer. It's not like Tommy hasn't given him a rub down before, but it's different this time - he's Eddie's best friend's boyfriend now.
“Don't forget notary and best coffee maker at Jabba the Hutt,” Tommy adds with a laugh. “I like to keep busy.”
“Sounds like it,” Eddie says along with his own chuckle. “Hey if you ever really get bored I've got my hands full here,” Eddie waves his hands at his boys, before his hands return to his aching back.
“Oh I'd love to,” Tommy says energetically. “Anytime you need me let me know. I know it's a bit awkward me suddenly dating your best friend just as we're becoming friends ourselves and all, but I really want to be your friend. I wasn't trying to, like, use you for information on Buck.” Tommy's blue eyes reflect that he's telling a heartfelt truth. 
For an Ex-catholic, Eddie prays a lot. Currently he's praying for a metaphorical bell to save him, but since it's not coming he decides to just ring true. “I know that, and I didn't mean to make you feel like I don't want to be friends… it's just…”
And that's just it. Eddie can't even admit it and understand it himself, there's no way he can say it aloud. Thankfully Tommy takes over and charge, as he leans against the counter to nonchalantly admit, “You know, I thought you and Buck were looking for a third. I didn't realize you two weren't dating until a couple weeks into our friendship and right before he visited me at work.”
Eddie desperately wishes for another beer, just so he has something to distract himself with, but instead he raises and lowers his hands while his mouth gapes open like an idiot. “Shh-Whattt???”
“I mean, I was okay with it,” Tommy shrugs. “But it was a shock to learn you guys weren't-”
“- Tommy? Eddie?” Buck's voice is deep with sleep and he rubs his eyes with curled fists in a way that is both adorable and attractive. “We should put Chris in bed and get there ourselves. We all have work tomorrow.”
“Yeah, of course!” Eddie responds, jumping at the out. “I'll carry Chris to bed if you make sure he has all his school things together?”
Buck hums his consent and they split apart to do their familiar tasks. Eddie tucks their son in bed and by the time he makes it back to the kitchen Buck is already back. And with Tommy. The larger male has him backed up against the counter, panting breathlessly and blushing redder than Eddie has ever had the pleasure to see. Suddenly, it dawns on Eddie that it will be Tommy sharing his bed with Buck tonight and that he'll be the one on the couch.
And he wishes for midnight - even though it's already there. 
Track#3: Makes Me Ill
Tumblr media
Eddie's circling turns into a whirling hurricane.
A curse to see Tommy with Buck. It had happened once before he knew they were dating, but now it seemed every time he went out they were on a date. During their shift after the sleepover, all he hears is about how much fun Buck had and how they should do that more often. When he takes Chris to school on their next day off, he decides to drive by Buck's apartment… only to find his visitor’s spot taken up by Tommy’s truck and opts to drive on. During the family dinner Bobby and Athena hold at their place once a month, Eddie overhears their hosts inviting the younger couple to a double date for later in the month. Once Buck had somehow forgotten his phone at home and they'd had to go on a call before he could grab it, when they'd gotten back to the house Tommy had been waiting with it and flowers, telling Buck, “not to forget about his dentist appointment after his shift tomorrow,” with an adoring kiss good-bye.
Tommy was becoming a permanent fixture and the thought of losing his position scared Eddie beyond thought.
It had been two weeks since their sleepover and Eddie had found every excuse to get out of having to endure another one. It wasn't that he couldn't stand Buck or Tommy, he just couldn't stand them together and not… well that's just it. He could tell his avoidance disheartened Buck, yet the alternative was something beyond words and incomprehensible. It was better this way.
So he did his best to avoid the couple while failing horribly. The first time it happened Eddie had to head back to the station because he'd left his wallet. Since it was the middle of the day, Chris was at school and the only hassle about this was the drive back and forth. When he'd pulled up and parked, the fire engine rushed out. Then as he was exiting his truck, Christopher's school called to talk about a bake sale. After 30 minutes (33 minutes and 24 minutes according to the call log) he was finally ready to head inside the house.
It was silent without the B squad and eerily odd without his team. Like going into a school or a doctor's office after hours, the same anxiety about being caught even though he was allowed to be there. That's when he heard it.
“If you keep doing that, I'm going to be late for work and we're going to be caught,” a deep voice says, followed by a rich chuckle. Although they've only known each other for a short amount of time, Eddie recognizes the voice easily as Tommy's.
A naughty laugh answers his statement.
Realizing just what they’re doing in the shower room, Eddie quickly backtracks, unwilling to let that image haunt him for the rest of his day. Not that him not seeing it helps, if anything it makes it worse, because now every time he goes to take a shower all he can imagine is what exactly he could have caught them doing.
Tumblr media
The second time he's on a movie date with Marisol.
Pepa had agreed to watch Christopher so they went with something mature. Honestly, Eddie wasn’t too interested in watching a seemingly smart person make bad decisions and miss the blatant truth in front of them, so he wasn’t paying attention to the movie’s plot. They were about halfway through the movie and Marisol seemed to be enjoying it, so he simply leaned back and distracted himself by looking around.
There hadn’t been a lot of people in the theater to begin with, but after the main character had made a cringy decision over half of the little crowd had departed. Now it was just Marisol and Eddie in the front three rows and a couple in the back row.
From his position and the darkness, Eddie couldn’t make out the faces of the lovers but now that he was focusing on anything but the movie he realizes he could definitely hear them.
At first it was just a heavy breathing, which quickly gave way to a panting then the intermittent sound of addicting whimpers joined the hushed cacophony. The participants were obviously trying to keep it down and Marisol had yet to notice, but it was all Eddie could focus on. He'd had sex thousands of times, in multiple ways, but never anything as passionate sounding - even as muffled as it was.
Eddie shifts, trying not to let Marisol in on his discomfort.
A deep, pleasured moan comes from the back row, and Eddie can't help but look at Marisol to see if she heard it. Somehow she hadn't, but when Eddie looks at the screen he sees a sex scene and realizes she must have thought it belonged on the screen.
Thankfully Marisol doesn't notice and the movie is over within 30 minutes. Grateful, Eddie makes a speedy exit, practically dragging Marisol out the door. Unfortunately, she stops him in the hallway outside to point out a poster for an upcoming movie. Which means that Eddie witnesses the couple exiting the theater, hand in hand and with matching countenances of love and bliss.
Buck and Tommy.
Eddie only gets a moment to covetously observe them before Buck sees them. It does make him a little happy at how obviously happy the other man is at seeing him, but his desire to be there too trumps any joy Eddie feels.
“Eddie!” Buck exclaims, holding his hand up as if Eddie could miss him in a room full of people.
‘This must have been a little of what Buck felt when I crashed his first date with Tommy ,’ Eddie thinks but he says, “Hey guys! How goes it?”
“Great! We just saw one of my favorite books on screen!” Buck responds, the couples facing each other now so Eddie can see his pure smile easily. “It was an amazing adaptation!! What did you guys see?”
“I think we might have seen the same thing!” Marisol remarks. “Did you just come out of theater 6?”
As Buck confirms her, Eddie catches Tommy's eye. He's unable to keep it for long because the glint of them says Tommy knows Eddie knows they weren't really watching the movie.
Tumblr media
A month has gone by, which means Bobby and Athena's dinner is tonight and that Tommy and Buck have been dating for two and a half months now. The indefinable feeling that haunts Eddie has gotten worse. Everytime he sees them together he feels his blood boil with it, when Eddie sees them separately it lays dormant. So far he's been good at keeping their visitations quarantined, but at a family dinner he would inevitably have to be around the both of them. Maybe he could use Chris as a buffer.
It's with this goal that he slowly gets them around, to the point that Chris essentially is rushing Eddie out the door. They arrive later than everyone and Chris quickly abandons him to go hang out with Denny, Harry and Mara. Eddie curses his son's extroverted personality as he makes himself go hang out with his best friend and good friend, who just so happens to be his best friend's boyfriend. Nothing to be weird about.
Why is he being so weird about it?
“What's up with you, man?” Tommy asks as he and Buck make their way over to him.
“Nothing much,” Eddie answers with a wave towards Chris as he continues, “Just been so busy lately I feel like I haven't had any free time.”
“I feel that,” Tommy says, wrapping a firm arm around Buck's waist. “Are we still on for Sunday? No pressure if you've got something else to do or just wanna use the day to relax instead.”
“Oh, y’know, it's just, I've got no one to watch Chris,” Eddie stammers out the excuse, knowing how flimsy it sounds as he says it. “You guys have fun!”
Buck shakes his head then says, “No, no! I don't really like basketball. Why don't you guys go together, I'll watch Chris! I've missed my Captain America time.”
And how can Eddie say no to that? So he doesn't, “Are you sure? I wouldn't want to make you feel… like you did before.”
“Yeah but that was before…” Buck blushes, looking down shyly where his hand rests on Tommy's wrist. “I didn't understand how I felt then, and now I do. I don't want to come between the two of you like that.”
“Of course you wouldn't,” Tommy comments lowly just for Buck, but Eddie hears it anyway.
Not understanding it and also knowing it wasn't intended for him, Eddie ignores it as he says, “Okay, awesome. Sounds like a plan! I'm looking forward to it.”
Luckily, Bobby chooses this moment to make his way over and their weekend-plans conversation ends. They chat for sometime about general things, before Athena makes her way over. Eventually they get on the topic of children and for once Eddie doesn't notice Buck with Tommy, as the couple slips away.
Actually, it isn't until they're sitting down for dinner does he notice their absence, because Chris asks Eddie, “Where is Bucky?”
Looking around, Eddie shrugs and says, “I don't know. How about this, you go save our seats and while I go to the bathroom I'll look for them.”
Words he'd come to regret as soon as that heavenly blessed, muffled moaning once again graced his ears. He should have known with his luck he'd catch them again . Should have somehow guessed what they'd be doing because he knows both of his friends.
What he doesn't expect himself to somehow know is how… distracting their noises are. Unlike the time in the theater, Eddie stalls to admire the sound and what he hears leaves him yearning for a cold shower.
“Tommy, please,” Buck whines, a sound so desperate and pleading. “Don't tease, we have to hurry.”
“Then maybe you should do so,” Tommy responds deeply, clearly just as aroused. “Come for me, Evan.”
The sound that Buck makes is one Eddie will never forget and also why he couldn't meet neither Buck nor Tommy's eye over dinner. After all, how do you make eye contact with your best friend when you know the frantic sound they make as they ejaculate? How can you look into your friend’s eyes when you want to hear their boyfriend orgasm?
And what if you just as desperately want to hear more.
Tumblr media
Today they're at the wedding venue to help Maddie and Chim plan their wedding. “They” being Athena and Bobby, Karen and Hen, Buck and Tommy and Eddie. They were invited to help on choosing the cake and none of them were going to give up free sweets.
“I'm so glad May was okay watching all the kids today,” Karen comments to Maddie. “I can deal with my sugar rush, not theirs!”
This garners some laughs and the congenial mood follows them into the room where they'll be taste testing. The group is led through the Japanese-inspired sliding door to a beautiful room that utilizes and encaptures natural beauty. The table they sit at is elegant but clearly made from a large tree. Eddie is sat next to Buck and the end of the table, with Tommy on Buck's left, Athena is next to him and Bobby is at the head of the table at the fiancee's insistence. Karen is across from Eddie, Hen is next to her, then Chim and Maddie.
The first cake is a simple red velvet, which Eddie is immediately biased for until he takes a bite and realizes it tastes nothing like his abuela's. Trying to conceal his face because the others seem to like it, he wipes his mouth and takes a drink of his water. Karen catches his eye and without words he knows she's in the same boat.
“How's Christopher?” She asks after setting her own glass down and dabbing her lips softly so she doesn't mess up her chapstick.
“Oh you would not believe…” Eddie starts, telling her about Christopher’s foray into the dating world.
Karen laughs, “Well do you expect any difference with who his other father is?”
“Not at all,” Eddie says with his own laugh. “I just hoped he'd learn more from…” he turns to Buck, “What'd you call it?” He snaps his fingers, turning back to Karen to answer his own question and continue, “Point 2 version than Point 1.”
Buck's eyes are furrowed in confusion until he seemingly realizes they're talking about him because he considerably brightens as he chimes in, “Oh please! We've had the same amount of hook-ups since you joined - actually I think you've had more than me in the last 6 or 7 years!”
Eddie opens his mouth to start protesting but stops himself as he does the mental math. Shannon, Ana, being friends with benefits with Lena until she'd called it off, countless one night stands, and lately Marisol. Ali, Taylor, Natalia, 13 one night stands (Eddie knows how many because Buck has told him about every one) and now Tommy. Libido wise, they’re matched. Relationship wise, they’re on a similar path.
“Whatever,” Eddie mock-scoffs, the smile on his face a sure sign that he’s joking. “I’ve had more serious relationships.”
“Indisputably,” Buck mock-snarks, his smile just as mischievous. “You’re looking for a mom for Christopher, not a partner.”
Eddie gasps, bringing his hand to his chest in false offense, “How dare thee!”
“Why would he need to be looking? You’re both,” Hen jokes.
Tommy laughs, “You can’t even deny it, Evan. The only decorations you have are his art works. They’re framed and displayed in places of honor,” He looks at Karen and Hen as he says, “When he brought me over to his apartment for the first time, I swear he spent the first hour showing me around like he was some art curator showing off his favorite artist’s work.”
Everyone laughs, which is what the bakers walk out to with the next cake.
“I’m glad to see everyone’s having a good time,” A woman says, obviously the head chef or the baker’s version of that. “Are we ready to try the next?”
At everyone’s agreement, they clean up the table and pass around new plates with the new cake. Eddie would know what kind it was, if he had been able to listen to the baker instead of being completely enraptured by Buck and Tommy. The way they catch each other’s eye and share a secretive smile… It's alluring. The way their smiles sweeten, obviously in love and happy… Eddie wants to join them.
And Eddie realizes he knows exactly what that indefinable feeling plaguing him is.
It’s been obvious the whole time.
He drags his gaze away, looking straight ahead and meeting Karen’s eyes. They’re surprisingly sympathetic, like she’s experiencing something sad and wants nothing more than to fix it. Eddie can understand how she’s such a great mother, because he feels her love and he’s not even a child. Meeting her gaze is hard, but definitely easier than staring at the sweethearts.
“So Denny wants Chris to come over for a sleepover, I know we’re kind of busy now but since we’re both here we might as well chat about it,” Karen suggests as she tries the cake.
Eddie loves his family.
Grateful to her distraction his mind is taken off of the constant repetition of BuckTommyBuckTommyBuckTommy… or at the very least it’s an obnoxiously loud background noise.
“That’s perfect!” Eddie responds. “I can take them this next week if you could take them next sleepover.” Eddie subconsciously observes Tommy excusing himself and standing as he pulls out his phone to see his calendar. “Denny could come over this Friday. He could join in on our family night.”
“Yay!” Buck joins in to say after looking back from Tommy’s retreating form. “I’m excited! We’re going to have a Kung Fu Panda marathon so we can go watch the new one on Tuesday. Do you think Denny would like to come?”
“Definitely,” Karen says, all smiles. “Hen and I could use her day off to have a girl’s day with Mara. Denny went to my last salon and got embarrassed by all the grannies, he doesn’t want to go if they’re going to be there. They get… pinchy.”
Eddie laughs, “Oh my abuela and her book club are pinchy too. Every time they come around Chris he’s pretending he’s sick and wears his mask!”
“That’s smart!” Karen snaps her fingers. “I’ll have to tell Denny to use that one.”
“I’ll bet Chris already has,” Buck says. “Denny is just too sweet. Chris is more mischievous,” He rubs his head bashfully. “I swear that’s not from me.”
Everyone laughs. “Sure, Buck,” Hen says sassily, looking at him with a sisterly look. “Although, I will say he does get it from both of you.”
“Do what?” Maddie asks, leaning to face them better from the conversation she, Chim, Bobby and Athena had been having as it had come to an end.
“Chris got his player personality from both his dads,” Karen explains.
The entire table laughs.
“Oh goodness it is becoming apparent how alike our children are to us all,” Athena laughs waving her hands as she explains everything that had occured with Harry.
“I’m glad it’s all going to work out,” Buck says when she’s done.
Eddie nods, “Truly. Although, it all works out in the end, otherwise it’s not the end.” Everyone nods, adding on their own regards, but Eddie stops paying attention because it’s all taken by Buck discreetly excusing himself to the bathroom.
Which is a totally normal thing to do, but Eddie can’t stop focusing on the fact that Tommy isn’t back yet. The last time, he should have expected it and has been kicking himself for not realizing soon enough. Unable to give conversation, he crams his mouth with the rest of his cake and just nods along.
Ten minutes go by.
At this point he’s chewing mush, but he knows exactly what he’s going to do as soon as he’s done eating.
He swallows.
“Hey, I gotta go to the bathroom,” Eddie softly says as he stands up, pushing in his chair robotically. “I’ll be right back.”
The walk to the bathroom is thankfully short and the door is the same papery thin, sliding door that they had been led through before. Which means Eddie can hear them perfectly.
“You don’t think so?” Tommy is saying. “I know so, that's why I was feeling him out.”
“No way, he’s got all that Catholic guilt. Even if he could, he wouldn’t,” Buck replies.
“I’d beg to differ,” Tommy chuckles.
“Well I’m begging you to hurry,” Buck interrupts himself with a moan. “Please, oh my God, please .”
“Don’t beg God, keep begging me.”
There isn’t much talking after that. The time Eddie spends in that hallway feels innumerable. Able to easily listen, he makes sure to leave and be sat back in his spot well before they’re on their own way back.
Eddie finds that this time makes it no easier to meet the couple’s eyes.
Tumblr media
The last time, Eddie had gone to Buck’s apartment after he and Marisol had gotten into an argument. In his defense, his spot had been open and only Buck’s Jeep had been in the apartment’s designated parking spaces. The walk up the parking garage stairs and to the elevator was daunting and the walk down the hallway to Buck's apartment was ominous, yet that was normal lately.
Maybe that's why he thinks nothing is off as he uses his key to unlock the apartment and goes in.
The sight that greets him is straight from a porno made by God for him.
Buck is bent over his counter, face twisted in a pert near illegal expression of pleasure, clearly overstimulated and loving it. Tommy is behind him, a similar countenance of ecstacy written across his face, dirty but adoring of the man beneath him. They are both facing the door, which means as soon as Eddie walks in and sights them that the opposite is true as well.
For a few seconds the momentum carries them through a few more thrusts and Eddie watches, captive to his own desire before he realizes this is real real life and not one of his repressed dreams.
“I'm sorry,” Eddie cries, trying to look away and failing as he backs up towards the door. “I'm going!”
“Eddie,” Buck says, voiced perfectly hoarse and fucked out. “Wait,” he straightens and Tommy backs up, pulling out evidently by the moans.
Eddie can't help but watch, but he also can't stay. Somehow he peels his gaze away, and runs from the apartment.
Tumblr media
Upcoming Queue
(this is a rough draft outline. I wanted to cross-post what I have written so far because I can😎 I'd really like constructive feedback or someone to describe my writing. I'm also in need of a summary and I'm obviously no wordsmith)
(Blue are Posted, Red are Not Posted)
Chapter #1: Bi, Bi, Bi :: The set up OR As Eddie is setting up for a normal family night, Buck asks if Tommy can come and Eddie feels... Feelings about it.
Chapter #2: Bring in the Noise :: The set up pt2 OR An addition to family night doesn't disrupt it as worried.
Chapter #3: It Makes Me Ill :: Eddie has arrived in Jealousytown. All of the stations make him sick, especially when every stop be has to see Buck give love and attention at his will. And you can't imagine how it makes Eddie feel, to see them without him OR The 5 Times Eddie Catches BuckTommy.
Chapter #4: It's Gonna Be ME :: Eddie, Tommy and Buck get drunk at Chim’s bachelor party. Eddie makes a big confrontational speech to Tommy about how he thought they were friends and he can't believe he'd go behind his back type thing. Essentially telling Tommy there's been hundreds before him and Eddie's been there the whole time, it's gonna be him. Realizing he's made a fool of himself, Eddie runs off and avoids teven.
Chapter 5: No Strings Attached :: Eddie asking Chim, Hen and Bobby if he's homophobic, Chim says he's homo something (this is the plot bunny that started this fic)
Chapter 6: I Thought She Knew :: a proper break up with Marisol where he apologizes and she says she knows and there's no apology needed if he doesn't do it to another woman. They chat and he learns one of the big reasons she left is because she's bi too.
Chapter 7: Just Got Paid :: Eddie is still avoiding Buck and Tommy after Madney’s bachelor party and wedding but things are going more smoothly. Between more talks with Bobby and Hen he comes into his queer identity
Chapter 8: This I Promise You :: Confession
Chapter 9: Digital get down :: Domestic bliss 101
Chapter 10: That's When I'll Stop Loving You :: Found Family moment/telling the firefam
Chapter 11: Space Cowboy :: +1
Chapter 12: That's When I'll Stop Loving You :: Domestic bliss 202
23 notes · View notes
narryffdreaming · 1 day
Text
A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — FOUR (I)
Tumblr media
Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.
Rating: +18
WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.
PART FOUR: 21,8k words (I) - 11,2k words (II) - 9,8k words
PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE
Tumblr media
"Oh my God! Guys!" Lucy yells from the top of the yacht. "They're here!" 
"What?!"
"Oh my God!"
"Finally!" 
Their friends cheer and whistle at their arrival, and Aurora can't get rid of the smile on her face as half of the group screams her name at the same time the other half screams Harry's. There's music playing, each one of them holds some kind of drink, and the whole thing seems like a very intimate, messy, and fun summer party. 
"Just jump in and wait for me, okay?!" Lucy adds, already stepping out of sight. "I'm coming!"
"Okay…" Aurora murmurs and chuckles, although it's mostly out of nervousness, since Lucy obviously can't hear her. 
And, to be honest, she is too hypnotized to react in any other way. She has barely recovered from Harry's interaction, and now this gigantic, massive yacht in front of her isn't actually making things any less overwhelming. 
"Auri?" Harry calls.
She blinks and looks at him, then at his waiting hand. He's already inside the yacht, carrying their bags while he stretches out his arm to offer his help. 
Reality barely sinks in, but she shakes her head and walks forward, anyway. 
"Right, sorry."
She holds his palm and takes a leap, squeezing him as her feet touch the lowest deck of the yacht and her legs tremble onto the new ground.
And just like that, she goes back to staring at what will practically be her house — their house — for the next two days.
She counts three floors, and whilst she still can't see the ones from above, the one they just jumped into is enough to speak for the entire yacht. There is a pool with an infinity edge right by her feet, and on each side of it two steps that lead into a huge outdoor lounge area. Between a couple of sun loungers there's a massive white couch, and behind said couch more steps, leading to the insides of the yacht. 
"Fuck me," she murmurs, then bites her lip and shakes her head. She admires some more and, after a moment, she adds, "I need someone to pinch me right now." 
Next to her, Harry snorts, and Aurora turns her head to face him. 
He's already watching her, attentively and keenly. His stare never hesitating, never faltering. 
"It's not a dream," he murmurs back. "Trust me, I've been pinching myself for hours now." 
There's definitely something about the way he looks at her. Something that causes a little bit of everything to run through her body. 
It is good. Kind of exciting. But also overwhelming, and certainly unexpected. It makes her stomach flutter, but it also squeezes her chest. Almost as if suffocating her. 
So Aurora looks down, and tries to make sense of her thoughts. 
Although only then she notices she's still holding his hand, just like Harry's still holding hers. And then the feeling inside her only grows. The rush, the tingling, the trembling. The burning, the pounding, and the quivering. And she doesn't know what to do about it. She doesn't know how to make it stop. And she most certainly doesn't know what it means. 
Is she even supposed to do something about it? Is it even supposed to mean anything? Does she really need to make it stop? 
"Roryyy!" 
Aurora jolts, and she drops Harry's hand. 
"Hii!" 
Lucy's high-pitched voice echoes from her ear to her brain just as a body crashes against hers, two arms circling her neck. Aurora stumbles and laughs, and Harry's hand quickly lands on her lower back, keeping her in place. She glances at him over her friend's shoulder, finding him by their side with a genuine smile and affectionate gaze. 
"Hi, Lu…" She smiles, straight into his eyes.
"You're here!" Lucy says, pulling back and putting her hands on Aurora's shoulders. Forcing Aurora to look at her and finally getting full attention. Lucy's grin is contagious and sincere, and happiness seems to exhale through every cell of her skin. "I was panicking when Niall said your flight got delayed, but now you're here. You're actually here."
Aurora chuckles, grateful for such a heartfelt reaction, but also aware of the turmoil that's still happening inside her. "I am, yes. Well… We are."
She glances at Harry, and Lucy widens her eyes. 
"Oh my God, yes! Harry!" She turns to him, and a soft giggle falls through her lips. "Hiii! I'm sorry, I just got too excited seeing Rory." 
Harry laughs and embraces Lucy into a hug, holding the bags in place with one hand while circling her shoulders with the other. "It's okay. I know the feeling." 
The short interaction plus the hot weather are enough to burst Aurora's body into flames. She feels the sweat in the back of her neck, but mostly the warmth spreading through her cheeks, so she tilts her chin up and searches for their friends, desperate to find a distraction. 
Thankfully, Niall and Theo are leaning over the glass railing. Despite being up high and distant, their smiles are easy to see. Just like the sunglasses on their faces and the bottles in their hands. 
"Moonshine!" Niall shouts, waving towards himself. "Get your arse up here, c'mon!"
Aurora smiles. She raises her arm to wave at them, then uses her hand to block the sun from her eyes. "Hey guys! You look fancy up there." 
"I know!" Niall laughs. "And we'd look even fancier if we left the port, so c'mon!" 
Before she can come up with something to say, Lucy comes to a stop next to her, sighing before murmuring, "Oh my God he's insufferable." 
They both chuckle, and then Lucy places one hand by her mouth and shouts, "My engagement, my rules, Horan! So no leaving the port 'till I say so!" 
Niall gives her a thumbs up, then leans to say something to Theo — which none of them can hear, of course. Aurora shakes her head and lowers her eyes, glancing at Harry one more time. 
Unlike Lucy and Aurora, he isn't watching the boys, too focused on the view around them instead. With his head tilted up, he unintentionally gives her access to see his perfect jawline, the facial hair under his chin, and the way his muscles tense when he gulps down. A stunning sight, if one would ask her.
"Okay, so…" Lucy sighs and steps forward, and both Harry and Aurora look at her. She turns to them, she grinning from ear to ear and placing her hands on her hips. "Are you guys hungry? Did you get to eat something?"
"Oh my God, no," Aurora breathes out. "Please. I'm starving." 
"Good, 'cause so are we." Lucy giggles. "Is it okay if we grab something to eat before I show you around, then?"
"Of course." Harry nods.
"Yay!" She claps and twirls on her feet, leading the way as her hair moves along with the wind and her one shoulder floral dress. "To be honest, I really wanted to wait for you guys and do a tour for everyone at the same time, but, y'know, I couldn't hold myself… So we already did that… But we have plenty of time so it's okay… Also, apparently there are fancy names for every place, but I can't be bothered with any of that, so I'm in charge of the informal tour. If you want, Theo can take over and tell you a kitchen it's actually called a galley, or gallery, or whatever…"
Aurora blinks, processing her friends' rambling, and Harry chuckles. 
"You look really happy, Lu," he points out, beaming at their friend as they go up the steps. "More than usual, I mean."
"You think?" Lucy asks, looking over her shoulder and flickering her eyes between them two. 
Aurora smiles, and nods.
Harry's right. She's noticed that about Lucy, too. She can see the way her friend smiles, the way her eyes shine and her entire body trembles with joy. 
It isn't something rare to see, because Lucy has always naturally been a very bubbly, cheerful and energetic person. Always the mother of the group, and at the same time the little sister they all want to protect. Her movements always carried a sense of tenderness, of home and family, and at the same time her personality always exhaled sunshine, expensive champagne, and tight-dresses with high-heels. 
So, yes, Lucy's always been exactly like that. 
And yet, there's something different about her this time. 
If Aurora had to guess, she'd probably say it has something to do with the fact that she's about to spend the entire weekend with her friends, celebrating her own engagement to the love of her life.
"Thank you," Lucy says. "I think this is the happiest I've ever been, yeah."
Aurora follows them around the couch and up the steps, trying to remember if her own engagement ever made her feel this happy. Or if getting married to Zack ever made her shine like Lucy's shining right now. 
Did loving Zack ever made her feel the happiest she's ever been? 
And did Zack's love for her ever made her feel the happiest she could ever be?
She shakes her head, slightly fearing the answers to those questions. 
Besides, it doesn't matter, anyway. Not anymore. 
Lucy takes them through what she says it's the main living room, where Harry drops their bags on another fancy, white couch, and then through a dining room. All the furniture they walk past looks expensive and extravagant, yet minimalistic and simple at the same time. Once they get through a hallway, Lucy points to a staircase to her side and explains that all bedrooms are downstairs, except for hers and Theo's — of course, since they're taking the biggest suite. Then she points to the bathroom right across from the stairs, and finally takes them through a glass door that leads to the side of the boat. 
That's when Harry steps aside, raising one arm and encouraging Aurora to go first. She smiles and thanks him, following Lucy through the first flight of stairs, and through the second one. Watching and listening as her friend looks over her shoulder every two steps just to chat and giggle about the multiple areas of the yacht and how they could all hide from each other in different rooms if they wanted to. Or how they don't need to worry about anything the entire weekend because there's a crew ready to make them food and drinks, and also to help them with whatever they need.
Once they reach the highest part of the yacht, Lucy steps aside and demands everyone's attention, then everyone just focuses on them. 
Aurora's still overwhelmed by all the information, but Theo is already there, by the last step, ready to greet her and looking just as excited as Lucy. He pulls her into a hug and thanks her presence, then asks about the flight, and about Noah. She smiles and answers all of his questions, albeit shortly, and then he hugs her again and steps aside, quickly moving on. He turns to Harry, then, excessively shouting about how long it's been since they last saw each other and what the fuck happened to your head.
She laughs, because she figures it's the same kind of excitement she feels with the girls, and then she walks forward, finding Maddie and Ava next to a jacuzzi. 
"Oh my God?" she whispers, widening her eyes at Maddie and pointing to the bubbling water.
"I know!" Maddie mouths, chuckling and opening her arms to welcome her. "Welcome to heaven!" 
Aurora laughs, and hugs her. "I don't think I'll get used to this place."
"Me neither. I'm so happy you're here tho!"
Maddie squeezes her, and then they spend at least five minutes like that, just hugging and squealing about being together again. Which, considering she was at Aurora's place just days ago, quickly turns into jokes about how dramatic they are and oh my God get away from me now.
Next, her embrace with Ava also lasts another five minutes. However, they truly haven't been in the same room for a long time now, so it's also filled with remarks about how good it is to meet again and how excited they are for that weekend. Also, how they should do more things together and see each other more often.  
Jayden steps in next, and as he pulls her into a hug, he also jokes about how they need to think about some new reason to meet, because so far they've been only meeting at wedding ceremonies — first at her and Zack's wedding, then his and Ava's, and now Lucy and Theo's. 
That's when he puts Niall and Megan on the spot, throwing at them the responsibility to organize the next meeting — or, in Jayden's own words, the next wedding. 
Niall laughs and flips him off, pointing out that as far as he knows that's only Lucy and Theo's engagement party, so they still have the actual wedding to look forward to. 
They bicker for a while, and Aurora takes the opportunity to greet Daniel — Jayden's cousin and Niall's old roommate. He's standing by a large table (that is apparently being set up with food) along with Niall and Megan, and he smiles as soon as she gets closer. 
"Hey there," he says, placing one arm over her shoulders and giving her a polite, short squeeze into his side. 
She's a little bit more awkward with him, and even a little shy. Not really knowing what to say after hello and how are you and nice to see you. They aren't really close, and they probably wouldn't even see each other again if it weren't for the others, but she appreciates him deeply for being the string that tied all of them together in the first place. After all, if it weren't for Daniel, Aurora wouldn't have met Niall. And if she had never met Niall, she also wouldn't have met Harry. 
So, in the end, it would've really sucked.
"Ok c'mon," Niall says, tapping his hand on the side of his own leg. "'S my turn. C'mon. C'mon." 
She steps away from Daniel's polite half-hug and rolls her eyes, but her mouth is already curving into this excited and big grin. 
"Would you calm down for a minute?" she jokes.
"'Course not! Look who's here, huh?" Niall cheers, throwing one arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his side. "Ma moonshine!"
She chuckles, turning towards him and circling her arms around his waist. It's been a while since she's been longing for a proper Niall-bear-hug, so she makes sure to enjoy it the most she possibly can. 
"Hi Ni," she whispers, resting her chin on his shoulder and letting a long exhale out of her nose. It's like her entire body loosens up, and she doesn't make any effort to hide it. "I've missed you." 
His childish playfulness fades away, and he passes his cold beer to someone behind her before crossing both of his arms around her shoulders and locking her in.
Finally hugging her properly. 
Finally hugging her tightly. 
"I missed ya too, moonshine," he replies just as softly, rubbing one hand up and down her shoulder blades. "It's been a while, huh?"
She closes her eyes, and nods. "Mhmm." 
It's not like they haven't seen each other at all, but they definitely haven't seen each other as much as they could. Or as much as she would've liked to. And she knows she is the only one to blame for that. She knows that Niall tried his best along the years, but she also knows that, unfortunately, Zack didn't seem to understand why she needed to maintain friendships with the opposite sex, so unless Maddie and Lucy were involved, she ended up not meeting with him that much anymore. 
Things changed after the break up, though. Niall was one of the only five people — outside from her family — she reached out to. They started meeting up for coffees, and sometimes he and Megan would tag along with her and Noah to the park. So it got better, for sure. Still, it hurts to know she had put so much distance between them, just like it hurts she still struggles so much to let him back into her life.
"Sorry for not answering your calls the past few weeks," she says.
"'S okay… At least you texted, yeah? Would've knocked on your door if not."
She chuckles and pulls away, blinking to look at him. 
The knot she improvised earlier on the back of her head doesn't exist anymore, and the light breeze seems to take advantage of that. 
"Noah's been asking about you," she says, putting her hair behind her ear.
"Really?!"
The way he beams at the mention of her son's name warms Aurora's heart, and she nods, smiling even wider at him. "Yeah… He says uncle Ni promised to teach him how to play guitar, so… When is he going to come over?"
"Ha!" Niall laughs, dropping his head back for a moment before looking into Aurora's eyes again. His cheeks are pink, and his eyes are glowing. "I did say that, yeah! Said I was gonna buy one for him. We'll arrange one afternoon for me to take him, yeah?" 
"Really? You'd do that?"
"Course! Are you kidding? Me and Harry will take him, make it a lads afternoon."
"Oh." Aurora nods, and swallows. "Right."
She looks around, then. Only half aware that the mere mention of his name has her already searching for him. 
Harry is by the jacuzzi, chatting with Theo, Ava, and Jayden, moving his hands while sharing some story with them. He looks excited, and happy. He also looks like someone who's been sitting on a plane and inside of a car for too long. Someone who hasn't tamed his hair in a while. Someone who hasn't shaved in three or four days. And someone who clearly doesn't depend on any of that to still look freaking good. 
Daniel approaches them and interrupts him, and whatever he says it's enough to completely crack Harry up, because he bends his knees and drops his head back, laughing loudly while raking his fingers through his curls. And the sound coming out of him is so enthusiastic and charged that it almost makes Aurora laugh, too. 
Almost, though. 
Because, looking at him, she actually doesn't feel like laughing. 
She actually doesn't feel like laughing at all.
Can it be possible for her to already miss those moments between them two? Just by themselves? Or is she so needy and lonely that she has irresponsibly already gotten too attached to him? 
Harry stretches his body and shakes his head, the smile still huge on his face, then turns his head to where she is.
His eyes meet hers, and Aurora looks away.
Shit.
She blinks and focuses on Niall — again. 
"So…" Niall says, putting his hands inside the pockets of his shorts. There is a new look on his face. A look she can't understand, but also a look she doesn't have time to question, because he quickly speaks again. "Talked to him this morning." 
"Yeah." Aurora nods. "I know." 
She doesn't have to ask who he's talking about, because she already knows. For some very weird and strange reason, she knows. Not because Harry mentioned something about it earlier, but because she just… Knows. 
Harry's never been that person she doesn't have to name in a conversation. He's never been the implied subject, he's never even been someone she had something to discuss about. And yet there she is right now, after one failed marriage and a four-year-old waiting for her at home, trying to figure out how the hell Harry suddenly became all she can think about. 
"'S it ok that I told him about… Y'know."
"Yes. Don't worry about it."
"'Kay. Did you two have a good flight, then?"
"Mhm. I slept most of the time so… Yes." She nods and peeks over Niall's shoulder, then waves at the girl quietly standing behind him. Almost hiding. "Heyy Megan!"
"Oh, hi." She smiles and gets closer, then embraces her into a quick hug. When they're facing each other again, she asks, "How are you?"
"I'm good, tha—"
"Did Aurora tell you she goes by Mrs. Styles now?"
Aurora widens her eyes, and then turns around.
"Harry!"
He's standing next to Niall now, smirking while holding a bottle of beer. And then their eyes meet and he shrugs. As nonchalant and unworried as he could be. 
"What? They're our friends, they deserve to know."
"Know what?" Ava asks, approaching the table along with Jayden and Maddie.
"Nothing," Aurora says. 
Harry gasps, and places his hand on his chest. "Ouch. So our marriage means nothing to you?" 
Aurora rolls her eyes. 
So freaking dramatic.
"Wait, what?" Ava looks at her, then at Harry, then at her again. 
Maddie chuckles. "I'm confused."
"I'd say that was fast, but… Y'know," Jayden mumbles. 
And then Niall snorts, grabbing Megan by her waist and pulling her closer to him. "Took him fifty years, that's all."
Aurora is only half-listening to what they're saying, because, honestly? She just couldn't care less. She glares at Harry with a frown on her face, instead. Pursing her lips and biting her cheek to make sure her mouth won't turn into a grin. 
"Oops," he mouths, then tilts his head to take a sip of beer. Eyes never slipping away from hers.
She shakes her head and crosses her arms. Feeling a buzz of joy spread from her chest to all over her body. 
Harry's silly. He really is. Acting like a teenage-boy and making jokes that aren't even funny just to get a reaction out of her. Part of her doesn't understand him and doesn't see the point, but some other part — one that's deep inside and kind of forgotten — feels completely the opposite. Like she doesn't want him to stop being like that. Like she doesn't want him to stop making her happy, making her laugh. Going out of his way just to interact with her. Just to put a smile on her face. 
Even if it's just for a day. Even if it's just for this weekend. Even if it's just to make her feel the happiest she can be for the next two days. Before everything goes back to normal again. 
"I'm gonna kill you," she mouths back. 
Harry smirks, has another sip of beer, and winks. "I know you will."
And Aurora has no idea what he means by that, but she's pretty convinced it's the hottest thing she's seen so far.
Tumblr media
It's official now: the crew is back together. 
Or that's what Daniel says, then minutes later Aurora catches herself thinking again as she looks around the table and smiles at her friends. 
Lucy, Theo, Maddie, Niall, Megan, Ava, Jayden, Daniel, and Harry. 
They're all there. 
Even she is there. 
And she's just so… Happy. 
To see everyone after so long feels amazing. It's like they have a lot to catch up on, but also like they can just pick up things exactly where they left them. No need for questions. No need for explanations. No need for apologies. Right now and right there, they all seem to have silently agreed there would be only room for excitement and celebration.
They are all eating and chatting, throwing questions around and making sure they know what's going on in everyone's lives. And they're all so mindful and careful of Aurora's feelings, leaving her out of certain topics and allowing her to stay in silence as much as she wants to. 
It's just… Perfect. It really is. She's happy, and she's carefree, and she's just so… Relaxed. 
And then Lucy, who's sitting right in front of her, gasps and calls Harry's name, as if she just remembered this huge thing she wanted to ask him about. 
Harry hums, acknowledging he's the new topic of the interrogation while chewing his food. 
"How's your dad doing?" she asks.
"Oh." He nods and gulps down, then takes a sip of water before answering her. "He's good, yeah. Not used to having the entire house to himself, but, y'know…" He shrugs. "He's alright." 
And that's when Aurora frowns, and when she finally feels the need to chime in.
"Wait, what?" She shuffles on her seat and leans in, trying to get a glimpse of Harry over Maddie, Megan and Niall's seats. "Why did your mum move out? Did your parents get divorce?" 
Now, if there's one thing that's already been established, it's that Aurora doesn't need any reminders of what a shitty friend she's been. By now, everyone already knows that it's something that constantly haunts her mind and that she's working as much as she can to fix.
Still, she doesn't think there was ever a moment when the truth hit her as loudly and painfully as right then and there. 
Because they all go silent. Awkwardly, uncomfortably, and painfully silent. It's like her questions reverberate through everyone around the table only to bounce back to her. 
Aurora falls back into her chair, hunching down as she feels her body shrink. 
"What?" she whispers, darting her eyes over the faces of those she can see. They avoid her just as much as she tries to reach them, though, and her heart speeds up. "What did I say, guys? What did I do?"
"Auri," Harry calls. 
"Babe," and Maddie whispers at the same time, placing her hand over her knee and leaning closer to her ear. "Harry's mum passed away." 
Aurora widens her eyes. "W-what? I—When? I didn't—" 
"I know." Maddie nods. "It was a few months ago."
Niall speaks next — Aurora knows because she recognizes his voice, but she doesn't catch what he says. And when everyone starts talking again, Aurora just tunes them out. 
"Oh my God," she breathes out. "Maddie… I just… I had no idea."
"I know. We all know. It's okay."
It isn't, though. 
"When was this? What… I mean… Did you all know about it?"
"I think so, yeah."
"And why didn't you tell me?"
"I'm sorry, it's just… It was around the time you were getting your divorce, y'know? And we just… I think we figured you had a lot going on already." 
"Well, yeah… But his mum passed away, Maddie. His mum." 
Aurora rubs her forehead.
God, it just… It just breaks her heart, to be honest. She knows how close they were, how highly he always spoke of her, so she knows it must've been a really tough time for him. Especially if he was living on the other side of the world and away from everyone. Away from his family, and away from his friends. 
Did he even have anyone in the US to help him get through that?
Was his ex there for him when it happened?
Aurora hopes she wasn't.
No! Wait—What?
Shit. 
No, that's not true. 
Of course not.
Hopefully he was still dating when it happened.
Hopefully he had someone by his side.
Hopefully his break up didn't happen around that same time. 
Is that the reason why he doesn't want to talk about relationships?
Is that the reason why he said he isn't in the mood for relationships? 
Holy shit. 
Why is she even thinking about this right now?!
Tumblr media
"A little heads up would've been nice, that's all," Aurora says, shrugging while staring at the horizon. 
It's a little after four when the girls finally get a moment just for themselves. They're still on what Theo said it's called the sun deck — although Aurora still considers it to be just the top floor of the boat — sitting around the table whilst the boys have moved their conversation somewhere downstairs. 
"God, I know!" Maddie says, now sitting across from her. "I'm sorry. I literally only remembered once it was already happening."
"I'm sorry, too," Lucy says. "I kinda went into panic mode because I'm the one who brought it up."
"It's not a big deal, tho'." Ava shrugs, and smiles softly at her. As if she's trying to reassure her and apologize at the same time. "I mean, it's not like you just decided to ignore the information or forgot about it. You genuinely didn't know."
"Yeah." Maddie nods. "And he knows that."
"Besides," Ava adds, "it's Harry, so… You two will be fine, Rory." 
Aurora nods, and grabs her necklace between her fingers. She knows they'll be fine. And she knows Harry isn't mad at her. She also knows it wasn't the girls' fault, so she isn't mad at them. She isn't even mad, to begin with. She's just… Disappointed. And sad. 
She's disappointed in herself. And she's really sad that she wasn't there for Harry. But she's mostly sad that he spent all that time at the airport listening to her while she cried over her marriage, but didn't feel comfortable enough to tell her about his own mother passing away. Not even when he brought her up in the car. 
"Rory?" Maddie calls.
Aurora blinks, and turns her head. 
The girls are all watching her. Studying her with that same worried, careful, and wary look they've been sharing around her since she made a fool of herself. 
"It's fine," she says, pulling her mouth into a smile and fidgeting with the pendant of her necklace. "Can we just, y'know, change the subject now?"
Lucy and Maddie share a look, and then they share a look with Ava. Meanwhile Megan bites her nail and shifts her eyes between everyone.
Aurora sighs, and rolls her eyes. They're all just trying to protect her. She knows that. But they're trying so hard right now that she's starting to wonder if, perhaps, it's having the opposite effect, instead. 
"Guys, c'mon," Aurora says. "Look, it was awkward, okay? And embarrassing. So of course I'm feeling weird right now. But can we please move on? Like, I just… I just need things to be normal."
"We're just worried about you," Lucy murmurs next to her. 
"I know." Aurora nods. "And I know I gave you reasons to be worried, so I really appreciate that. But I… I don't know. This is the first time I'm hanging out with everyone in years, y'know? So I'm pretty sure there'll be more awkward moments 'till Sunday and I just… I don't know. I need things to be normal."
Aurora shrugs, unable to finish the reasoning inside her mind. She wants her friends to make things less awkward, that's all. Maybe it's selfish of her to ask that of them, but… It is what she wants. 
Ava clears her throat, and shifts on her chair. "Yeah. I get it. Let's not make a big deal out of it. I'm sure you'll feel better once you talk to him."
Aurora sighs and nods, brushing her thumb over the pendant of her necklace. "Exactly." 
Something she doesn't want to do in front of everyone, but she will do. She's just waiting for the right moment to approach him. That's all. 
"Great," Ava says, facing forwards and staring at Lucy, who's right across from her. "So, I have a question, what the bloody hell are we supposed to do with this much space, huh?" 
"Oh my God, I know!" Lucy squeals and giggles, and Aurora feels herself smiling again, too. 
Changing the subject is good, and exactly what she needs. Although it doesn't erase the fact that she still needs to talk to him, of course. Because she still needs to apologize. She wants to apologize. 
At first, she thought she'd get to do it right after lunch, but then Theo announced they were about to leave the port and Aurora didn't miss a beat before running downstairs to grab her phone. 
Eight hours had gone by and she still hadn't heard a word from Zack. A tiny part of her inevitably wondered if everything was okay, but to be honest the majority of her just hated him. She ended up, then, writing another message, this time with clenched teeth and rushed fingers. Letting him know she'd be probably out of reach from then on, but that she'd still try to call and say goodnight to Noah. Adding, at the end, if i call, please pick up. 
After that, when she met everyone again, they all got together to take pictures of the moment they left the city behind. And then Lucy opened a bottle of champagne, and they all shared a toast to their soon to be married friends. 
Amidst the happy emotions, one thing led to another, and before she got the chance to reach out to Harry and ask for a private minute of his time, he was already out of her sight and gone with the rest of the boys — which she didn't think it would be fair to interrupt. 
"This is actually Theo's grandparents gift, so we're still getting used to it," Lucy says, and for some reason it just brings Aurora back to the conversation.
"What?!" She lets go of her necklace, widening her eyes and sitting upright while turning to her side. "They gave you this yacht?!"
They all look at her, and Lucy laughs. 
"Wha—No! Not the entire thing, silly! Just a week on this yacht."
"Ohhh!" Aurora exhales through her mouth, then relaxes on the chair. She chuckles lightly, waving her own question off. "Okay, yeah, that makes sense now."
"To be fair," Megan says, so timidly and softly Aurora almost doesn't hear her, "from the little I've seen, coming from those two it wouldn't actually surprise me at all."
Lucy snorts. "Right?"
They all look at Megan and nod, a clear attempt of making her feel welcome in the conversation. 
It is nice to see her spontaneously joining in. She's been dating Niall for a little less than a year now, and even though she's previously met or at least talked to everyone so far, this is the first time she's actually hanging out with all of them at once. So she's still getting comfortable around them. And Aurora relates to that, even if for different reasons. 
"You still don't get along with them?" Ava asks.
"God, no." Lucy shakes her head, then takes a sip of her margarita. "So obnoxious. Hate them."
There's a beat of silence, until Maddie stretches her arms over her head and sighs loudly. 
"Well," she says, "for what it's worth, I'm really glad they spent all this money on you guys."
"Yeah!"
"Mhmm."
"Me too!"
"Ugh, yes!" Lucy says. "I'm so happy we are all here." 
"It doesn't feel real, to be honest," Aurora says, drifting her eyes around them. 
They didn't actually leave Amalfi, but they sailed enough to anchor where they'd be fully surrounded by crystal-clear waters and have a breathtaking view of the deep blue sea meeting the bright blue sky. 
There's no music playing anymore, the boys are laughing somewhere, and the sun shines brightly and warmly above them. Sometimes, a soft breeze surprises them, but Aurora always catches herself smiling at it. And sometimes even giggling at the shivering that runs through her arms. Because it's refreshing, and reassuring. And she can't remember a single moment in her life when she's felt like that. 
Like there's nothing but peacefulness surrounding them. 
Peacefulness. 
Quietness. 
Delight.
Bliss.
Joy.
.
Happiness. 
.
Aurora throws her head back and closes her eyes, giving more room for the sun to warm up her skin. Her face, her chest, her neck. 
So,
So relaxing.
.
.
"Girls," Ava murmurs, almost whispering.
"Hm?" someone says.
Aurora blinks, looking at her friend while trying to adjust her blurry sight. Maddie, Megan and Lucy are all looking at her, too.
So Ava leans into the table, and shares with them what feels like the biggest revelation. A secret that's only for them to hear, and only for them to know. "You know I'm banging my husband here tonight, right?" 
There's only a second of dead silence, and then they all burst into laughter. 
Aurora laughs, too, but she also rolls her eyes and looks away — not surprised at all with the revelation, but also not really sharing the sentiment. Or excited about it. 
It's been too long since she's had sex for the last time, and no matter how much she misses it, it's not something that's crossing her mind right now. Not when she knows it's so out of her reach. Not when she knows it won't happen anytime soon anyway.
"C'mon," Ava says, still whispering. "I can't be the only one thinking about it… Megan?"
"I mean…" Megan murmurs, and Aurora peeks to look at her. She's sitting next to Ava, looking down at the table almost as if she doesn't want to think about it. But then she shrugs, trying her best to keep a smile out of her face, and reveals quite the opposite. "Our suite is pretty tempting, so… There might've been some talking about it already."
"Yes!" Ava cheers. "I knew it!"
"Ohh I love this." Lucy giggles, drumming her hands on the table. "And you totally should go for it. We've been doing it for days now and it's just… Ugh."  
She rolls her eyes and drops her head back, causing Aurora to shake her head and laugh again. 
That's why she's so happy, then.  
"Speaking of which…" Ava turns to her side and points at Maddie. "Are you still going out with that girl from the gym?"
Maddie shakes her head, then grabs a grape from the table and throws it into her mouth. 
Aurora already knows the story, so although she keeps paying attention to the conversation, she closes her eyes and drops her head back. Once again comfortably enjoying the sun. 
"She ghosted me like… Two weeks ago," Maddie says.
"What?" Lucy gasps. "No! C'mon, I was rooting for her!" 
"It's fine." Maddie waves her off, then grabs another grape. "I'm too old for this, anyway. If she ghosted me then she's not good enough for me."
Ava whistles, and even with her eyes closed, Aurora smiles and nods. Maddie tends to suffer more than she lets people know, but her confidence and willingness to try again, and again, is something Aurora really admires from her.
"Damn," Lucy says, standing from her chair. "If you'll excuse me, I'll toast to that. Who wants another margarita?"
"I do," Megan says. "Please."
"Ava? Maddie?"
"Nope."
"I'll have a martini," Maddie says, batting her eyelashes. "Please."
"'Kay. Rory?"
"I'm good, thanks," Aurora blindly says, aware she didn't even finish the first one yet.
"Be back in a minute, then." 
"What about you, huh?" Ava asks. "Have you met anyone?"
There's silence around them. Only the sounds coming from the water and the boys talking and laughing somehow reach Aurora's ears. She tries to make out Harry's voice, but it's too muffled for her to point it out. 
"Rory?"
Aurora opens her eyes, and blinks. 
Ava, Maddie and Megan are all looking at her. Lucy isn't there anymore. 
"Wait, you're asking me that question?"
"Well, yes."
She lifts her eyebrows, and shifts on her seat. 
"Me. You are asking me if I've met anyone?"
"Yes," Ava chuckles. "I'm asking you, Aurora Fletcher."
"Actually," Maddie says, placing a hand on Ava's shoulder. "I heard it's Mrs. Sty—"
"Don't." Aurora jolts, pointing a finger at her. "Don't even say it."
Maddie chuckles, then raises her palms and leans back against her chair. "Ooookay then."
Aurora drops her hand to the table and shakes her head, unable to hide the smile. 
She's going to kill Harry for spreading that bullshit to everyone. 
"So," Ava insists. "Did you or did you not?"
"Ava, c'mon. Of course not."
"And do you want to meet anyone?"
"Not right now, no."
"Why not?"
"Plenty of reasons."
"Name one," Maddie says, and Aurora sighs.
She's already had that exact same conversation with Maddie days ago, so she knows where she's trying to get at — she wants Aurora to admit she's ready to date people. 
Which, of course, she isn't. 
"C'mon, I just got divorced."
Ava furrows her brows, then turns to Maddie. "Didn't she divorce like… Four months ago?"
"Six, actually," Maddie says. "But they broke up months before that."
"Hmm…" She turns back to Aurora, then. "And how long are you supposed to wait 'till the memory of your shitty husband releases you from its chains?"
Aurora gasps, and so do Maddie and Megan. 
And then they all laugh. 
"Oh I love you, Av," Maddie murmurs, grabbing another grape and shaking her head.
Ava shrugs. "I mean, I'm sorry, but I'm not gonna pretend I don't want you to put that asshole behind you, y'know."
Aurora rolls her eyes, then looks away. "Still, It's not just that." 
"What is it, then?"
"I have to focus on Noah right now."
"You can focus on Noah and still meet someone, tho," Megan says. 
Aurora turns to look at her, and so do Ava and Maddie.
"Oh my God." Megan widens her eyes, clearly speaking her mind when she didn't intend to. "Rory, I'm so sorry. I—"
"Don't apologize," Maddie says. "I told her the exact same thing the other day."
"Yeah, and it's exactly what I was thinking," Ava backs her up, too. 
Aurora laughs, and groans. "Girls, c'mon. Where am I even supposed to meet people? I don't… I never even leave the house."
"You left the house this weekend, didn't you?" Ava shrugs. 
"Well, yeah, but…" Aurora rolls her eyes. "Y'know." 
"But what?"
"But we are on a yacht?"
"And…?" 
"Oh c'mon!" She laughs. "I'm here with you guys. Unless you want me to, I don't know, meet the captain or something, I don't know who I'm supposed to meet this weekend."
"Mhmm… Ok then." Ava nods, and purses her lips. "So there's absolutely no-one, I mean no-one on this boat, that you could see yourself with?"
"What?" Aurora chuckles, drifting her eyes between her friends. "Of course not!"
Ava raises her eyebrows. "You sure?"
"Ava! Yes, I'm sure! What are you even—" 
"I'm back!" Lucy shouts, and Aurora shuts her mouth. 
All four of them turn to look at the stairs, waiting for their friend to come into sight. 
It takes Lucy a few seconds, but eventually she reaches the last step. Grinning, beaming, while holding a new glass in her hand. 
"Well, actually we are back." She giggles, walking past the jacuzzi and towards the table. "'Cause, y'know, I couldn't bring everything by myself so…"
And then, Harry comes into view, too.
He's holding a tray with four other glasses, biting his bottom lip while focusing on not spilling or dropping anything. Everything about him looks casual, and distracted. But apparently it is more than enough for Aurora's heart to stop for a second, and then speed up.
"Some might say it's a coincidence," Maddie whispers, and although she's looking at Ava, she's loud enough for Aurora to listen as well. "Others might say it's fate." 
"I know!" Ava gasps and chuckles, then shifts on her chair and straightens her back. She looks at Maddie over her shoulder, then at Aurora, then back at Maddie. "I say it's fate, by the way."
Aurora narrows her eyes. "What are you to—" 
"Harry, hi!" Ava says with a smile, intentionally cutting Aurora off while she faces him. The tone of her voice already suggests she's up to something (and that she isn't being subtle about it), but then she also crosses her arms on the table and leans into them, which seems to make it even worse. "How are you?"
Harry peeks at her, then furrows his brows. "Uhm… Good?"
Lucy takes her seat once again, then leans closer to Aurora and whispers, "I know you said no, but there's one for you anyway."
Aurora licks her lips. "Oh, okay. Thank—" 
"You're single, aren't you?"
Aurora shuts her mouth and looks at Ava, a slight sense of panic invading her soul. 
What is she doing?
Ava is still looking at Harry, though, so Aurora looks at him, too.
"What?" he asks, placing the tray on the table and narrowing his eyes. He shifts his gaze to Ava, then to Megan, and then across from them, to Lucy.
"Oh don't look at me," she says with a shrug. "I have no idea."
"It's just a question," Ava says, and shrugs. "Are you single or not?"
Harry looks back to Ava, then. 
"Yes. Why?"
"Mhmm…" Ava nods. "Interesting. And are you looking to meet anyone, or…?" 
Aurora's belly swirls. 
Fucking hell. She's going to kill Ava. 
Harry shifts on his feet, watching Ava with a look that's hard to understand, and then he darts his eyes straight into Aurora's gaze. 
And Aurora holds her breath. 
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Holy shit.
It's been only an hour or so since she got to stare into the green of his eyes, but it's like she's been missing it, because she doesn't want to let go of it. And she should let go of it. 
Right?
A moment of silence goes by, and Aurora's heart thumps loudly inside her chest. 
"Why?" he asks, right into her eyes. "Do you know someone?" 
Oh God. Why can't she let go of it?!
"Maybe…" Ava says, the hint of a hidden message loud and clear in her voice. 
And Aurora feels the shift in the air. How everything gets heavier somehow. How her ribcage gets smaller and her heart doesn't have enough space to beat as widely as it needs. 
So she looks down to her hands, not really wanting to be a part of that conversation anymore. Or not really knowing how to be a part of that conversation anymore. Because, honestly, what is going on?! 
Are her friends trying to set her up with Harry?
"Right." Harry clears his throat, then chuckles. "Well, let me know if that ever changes to a yes, then."
There's a beat of silence, but Aurora is too stunned to check what's happening.
"Oh we will," Maddie eventually says. "Don't worry."
Ava clears her throat. "Yes. But I think you'll know, tho."
Oh God…
Aurora's nauseous. And overheated. And breathless. Plus, she's pretty sure her heart is having an arrhythmia right now. 
She can't take her eyes off her hands, but she absorbs the seconds of silence as he seems to walk away, and also drinks in from his voice when he speaks again. 
"Oh, by the way, you're being summoned downstairs for a jump in the water." 
"Oh, yes! That's right!" Lucy says. "We'll be there in a minute."
"Ok." 
That's the last thing she hears from him, and then all the girls just stay in silence. As if watching him walk away. 
A few painful moments go by, until they all erupt into giggles and squeals — all but Aurora, of course. 
"Oh my God!" Ava breathes out. "What was that? The tension? You guys left me speechless! Me!"
"Rory, I'm begging you, please," Lucy says, grabbing her arm. "Please tell me you saw the way he looked at you." 
"I—What—" Aurora blinks. And shakes her head. And laughs. And mumbles. All at once. All at the same time. Confused. Dazzled. Puzzled. "Who—I mean, what?!"
"Oh my God!" Lucy squeals, and giggles. "Look at you! You're blushing!"
Aurora shakes her head, then covers her cheeks with her hands. "No I'm not!" 
"Girls," Maddie chuckles. "
She was looking right back at him
"And of course she saw the way he looked at her," Megan chuckles. "C'mon, she was looking right back at him!"
"What? No I wasn't." 
"Yes, oh my God! You totally were!" 
"What happened in that plane, huh?"
"Did you join the mile high club?"
"What?!" 
"Oh my goodness, did you really?"
"No!"
"Did your flight really get delayed?" 
"Because it's totally okay if it didn't!" 
"Totally, yes!"
"Oh my God! Girls!" 
"It's that why he's been calling you Mrs. Styles?"
Aurora laughs, rubs her forehead, and stands from her seat. "I—I can't… I need to—"
"This's so cute!"
Aurora shakes her head, walking towards the stairs. "I'm not doing this."
"Roryyy, come here!"
"Nope," she says, reaching the stairs. 
"Oh, c'mon!"
"I just… I need to use the bathroom."
"Bathroom. Mhmm…" Maddie shouts, her voice filled with teasingness and playfulness. "You go, babes. And say hello to Harry from me!" 
Aurora rolls her eyes and flips them off, then follows the same path Harry went through just minutes ago. And although she tries to keep a serious expression on her face, the truth is that she can't — she just can't — get rid of that foolish, silly, and incredibly stupidly huge smile that's creeping on her mouth. She just can't. 
So she doesn't.
Tumblr media
The moment Aurora leaves the bathroom is the exact same moment Harry reaches the last step of the stairs, and they both bump into each other.
He places his hands on her shoulders, as if keeping her in place, but also maybe just holding himself. 
"Ops."
"Sorry."
Aurora chuckles, and Harry chuckles. 
He slides his hands off her shoulders, and she takes a step back, looking him up and down. And she doesn't mean to do that — she swears she doesn't mean to do it — but Harry changed his clothes and she just can't help herself. Because instead of being black with flamingos on it, his shirt is beige now. And instead of pants, now he's wearing black swimming shorts. And instead of those cute yellow shoes, now he's wearing white flip flops. And there's just so… 
Shit. 
Aurora swallows.
There's just so much new skin suddenly exposed. So much tanned skin. Inked skin. And also perfectly carved abs. And manly, dark body hair.
Shit.
She licks her lips. 
He's just so… 
You know…
So…
She closes her eyes. 
Fucking shit, he is just so fucking hot.
Harry clears his throat, and Aurora blinks.
The smirk is blatantly obvious on his face, and a wave of heat spreads from Aurora's chest to the back of her neck, and all over her cheeks. 
Thankfully, he doesn't say anything about the fact that she's been openly staring at his body. And that he clearly noticed it. Instead, he tilts his head towards the stairs, motioning to the floor — deck — where he was coming from when they bumped into each other.
"I left your bag in your bedroom," he says. "I hope that's okay."
"Oh, mhm, of course." She nods. "Thank you."
"Of course." 
He nods, too, then settles comfortably inside her eyes. 
Green irises holding her captive yet all over again. 
There's a beat of silence, and the distant voices of their friends are the only reminder she has that they aren't alone anymore. 
"I don't really know where my bedroom is, tho."
Harry chuckles. 
A beautiful sight that has her smiling, too.
"It's right next to mine," he says. "Theo said you're sharing with Maddie?"
"Oh." She nods. "Right."
She didn't know that, but it makes sense. Since they're the only two girls who don't have a boyfriend or husband to share a bed with. And all that. 
"Want me to take you there?"
"To my bedroom?"
"I mean, yes. To show you where it is."
"Oh…" Aurora bites the insides of her bottom lip, and nods. 
Does she want Harry to take her downstairs and show her the bedroom while all of their friends are upstairs? Ye— No!
Shit.
Aurora shakes her head. Vehemently. "I mean, no. Thanks. It's fine. I mean, I'm sure Lucy wants to show me around. Stuff like that. Y'know." 
"Right, yeah. That's true."
Another beat of silence. 
And another one.
"Are you girls coming outside with us?"
"Mhm…" Aurora nods. "We'll… Y'know… We'll probably have to change first, but… Yeah. Mhm. Change our clothes. Then we'll go."
Oh my God? Why the fuck is she suddenly acting like this? What's wrong with her?
"Oh, of course." 
Harry clears his throat and looks down at his feet, then another beat of silence echoes between them. 
A long one, by the way. 
"So…" He speaks again, and moves back into her eyes. "How are you doing? Everything good so far?"
"Mhm, thanks!" Aurora smiles, trying her best to keep herself together. "I'm having a really good time. Yeah."
Harry smiles, too. "Good. Glad to hear that."
Another beat of silence.
And another one.
And another one.
Harry lifts his arm, and points behind him. 
"Well, I should probably—"
"Wait!" 
Harry drops his arm back to his side, and tilts his head. "Yeah?" 
"I'm just…" Aurora closes her hands into fists, and presses her lips together for a moment. Making sure her voice is softer and calmer when she speaks next. And that her words will, at least, make sense. "I'm sorry… About your mum."
Harry blinks, then curves his mouth into a gentle and caring smile. "I know. Thank you, Auri."
Auri. 
Her heart skips a beat. She'd no idea she would suddenly miss a nickname that no-one but him ever used. A nickname that up until that morning she didn't even remember existed in the first place. 
"I'm also really sorry for not knowing, and for not being there for you when it happened."
Harry sighs. "I don't want you to apologize for that. I mean, I realized you didn't know when you asked about her in the car, so… It's fine. Really. I don't want you to stress over this."
"Okay… But I just…" She shakes her head. "Look, I just want to make sure you know I'm sorry, okay? Because I care about you and I don't want you to think I don't. So, I don't know, can you please just… Maybe just say okay? And thank you? And then we leave it at that?" 
The look on his face and the soft, timid smile reveal more than she needs to know, but it gets even better when he chuckles, and then when he still reassures her with his words. "Thank you Auri." 
"Good. Thank you." She smiles, too. "Now, can I just… I mean… Can I at least give you a hug? I know it's a late hug but, y'know…" 
She shrugs, and Harry grins at her. 
"You really think you need my permission to hug me?"
"I don't—I don't know!" Aurora chuckles. "What if I just go for it and you don't… Y'know. Don't want to, or… I don't know."
He rolls his eyes and steps closer, already reaching for her waist. 
"Just shut up and c'mere," he says, sliding his hands and arms around her back, then pulling her into his chest. 
Aurora smiles and stands on her tiptoes, circling his neck with both arms while resting her chin on his shoulder. 
And then, she sighs. Because that feels really nice. And really good. 
Harry squeezes her, gently but tightly, then pulls his head back slightly, just to be able to press a kiss to her cheek.
It's wet, and it's loud. And her skin tickles. 
She bites her lip, and he moves his mouth closer to her ear. Curls and stubble brushing over her.
"Thank you," he murmurs, slightly digging his fingertips into her back — almost, almost, pushing her closer to him. "Just so y'know tho, you should always go for it. And I always want to."
Her belly flutters, and she closes her eyes. 
He just keeps doing those things… Saying those things… You know? And it's just… It's just so… Confusing? Because, honestly, 'I always want to'? What does he even mean by that? Who says something like that? 
"Yesss!" Ava shouts, and it doesn't take a second for Aurora to pull away from their embrace. 
Blinking. Suddenly flushed. Suddenly dizzy. Suddenly out of breath. Suddenly feeling her heart thump so loudly inside her that she's convinced it'll burst out of her chest. 
"She's here!"
Harry's eyes are soft on her, though. Calm. As if he's completely unaware of what he's doing to her. Or maybe as if he's aware of it, but completely satisfied with her reaction. 
Either way, it's like he is… Reassuring her. Like he's trying to let her know that it's not a big deal. And that it's okay. Because it's him, y'know? And it's always been okay with him. So why wouldn't it also be okay now? Confusing, but still okay.
Or… 
Maybe it's none of that. Maybe she is just projecting, because maybe she is the one trying to reassure herself. 
Who knows. 
Either way, it somehow works. Because she takes a deep breath in, and her heartbeat slows down. 
"Yes, he's here too!" Ava shouts again. "You owe me five bucks!"
Tumblr media
Aurora and Maddie's room it's simple, minimalistic and fancy — pretty much like the entire yacht. 
Her duffel bag is on top of the queen size bed she'll be sharing with Maddie, and there's a window allowing the daylight to brighten up the space. There are also two bedside tables, a wardrobe, and a tv. Plus enough room for all of them to comfortably hang out together while she rummages through her things to find a change of clothes. 
Ava, Lucy and Megan are comfortable on the bed, Maddie stands around the wardrobe while she puts her own stuff away, and Aurora sits on the floor, right by her bedside table. 
"Can you hand me my bag, please?" she asks.
"Sure." Megan grabs it from her feet and brings it closer to her reach.
"Thanks."
"I'll just ask one last question," Lucy says, sitting against the headboard and next to Megan. "And then I promise we won't touch the subject again, ok?"
Aurora drops her bag by her side, between her thigh and the bedside table, then nods. 
"'Kay," she says, bending her legs by the knees and looking at her. "One last question, then."
"How are things with Zack? Is he treating you better?"
She purses her lips and scratches her nose, mulling over the words to make sure she gives them the most honest answer she's able to. 
After Ava found her and Harry sharing a hug, the girls spent as much time as they could teasing the hell out of her — no matter how many times she told them it wasn't like that and it didn't mean anything more than a hug between two friends. 
The jokes only stopped when each moved to their own bedroom to change into swimsuits. Minutes later, when they met again in Aurora and Maddie's room, they kept laughing about the most random and insignificant things, not really putting her on the spot anymore. 
So it kind of felt natural that the conversation eventually ended up shifting back to Aurora's life, mostly because it was clear her friends still had questions to discuss. 
Which doesn't surprise her, but it also doesn't thrill her. 
"Sometimes, yes," Aurora says. "We still fight a lot over Noah, tho. Like, he doesn't like the fact that I signed him up for preschool, so he keeps messing up his routine, and then I'm the one who has to deal with Noah's tantrums. So, y'know, sometimes it's just really exhausting, but—" 
"Wait," Ava says, laying on her stomach and resting her chin on the palm of her hand. "He doesn't want Noah to go to preschool? Why?" 
Aurora shrugs — although she knows the answer pretty well. 
"Because I did it so I could go back to work, and Zack doesn't want me to."
"Sorry," Megan says. "He doesn't want you to work?"
Aurora shakes her head. "Nope. I mean, it's not going to stop me from doing it" — not anymore, at least — "but he definitely never planned for me to go back."
Ava shakes her head. "That's really fucked up."
"God I hate him so much," Maddie mumbles, her face hidden inside the wardrobe. 
"I know…" Aurora sighs, and shrugs. "And guys, I love Noah, ok? I really love him. It's not like I want to work because I don't want to take care of him. I swear. I just—"
"Rory, stop," Lucy says, pulling her hair into a bun on the top of her head. "We all know that." 
"Yeah," Ava says, sitting up in bed. "That's not something you need to clarify. Nobody would ever doubt how much you love Noah."
"You're such a great mum," Megan says. 
"Damn you are," Maddie says. She takes a step back from the wardrobe and turns around, holding a pair of earrings and white sunglasses. "Zack never did half of what you do, he never stopped one minute of his day to take care of Noah, or to be a decent husband to you, but he still expects your entire life to stop? C'mon!" 
The girls agree, murmuring yeah, and exactly, or nodding along. 
"The only reason why he thinks he's allowed to be a dick to you," Maddie adds, "it's 'cause he has one." 
"Totally, yeah," Ava says. "He doesn't even deserve to have a dick, in the first place." 
"Who's got a dick?" Niall asks, popping his head into the room and smirking at them. 
"Maddie," Ava jokes, sitting on the mattress and crossing her legs. 
Niall walks in and hums, tapping Aurora's head before sitting on the bed, next to his girlfriend. He kisses Megan's cheek and smiles, then turns to look at the girls and places his hand on Megan's thigh. Just like Zack used to do. 
Aurora looks away, then turns and kneels in front of her bag, facing all the clothes she doesn't feel comfortable enough to wear.
It's hard to stop the memories from taking over her mind, though. 
And she knows it's a really small gesture, but it's also one that Zack used to do to her a lot — albeit in a different way, or for different reasons. It happened usually at Zack's business dinners and under the tables, but sometimes he would do it when they were around family and friends, too. He never explained the code to her, but somehow Aurora still learned it — Zack would put his hand on her thigh and squeeze twice, and she would know it was time for her to shut up and stop embarrassing him. 
"Sometimes I wish I had," Maddie says, and Aurora scratches her nose. Then her temple. Then her forehead. Almost as if pushing her thoughts away. Pushing her memories away. "But right now we're actually talking about Zack's dick."
"Oh…" Niall clears out his throat, then chuckles. Sounding as awkward and uncomfortable as Aurora feels. "Right… Maybe we should keep his name out of this trip, yeah? Or at least his dick."
Aurora twists her fingers around the fabric of her swimsuit, listening to the conversation but not really engaging with it. 
She's the only one who isn't ready yet. The only one who still hasn't changed her clothes. The only one who still isn't comfortable enough to show off her body to all of her friends. 
"We were just saying having a dick doesn't allow him to question Aurora's decisions, babe," Megan says. 
"Ohhh," Niall said. 
"Especially as a mother," Ava added.
"Moonshine," Niall calls. He touches her shoulder, and Aurora peeks at him through the corner of her eyes. "Y'know I'll gladly cut his dick off, right? Anytime. Just gotta say the word."
Aurora laughs and shifts around, sitting on her heels as she looks at her friends taking over her bed — plus Maddie, now standing by the window on the opposite side. 
"Thanks guys. But I think—" She shakes her head. "No, I know I'm gonna be okay. So I agree with Ni, I think we should keep his name out of the conversation." 
"And his dick," Niall points out, raising a finger. 
Aurora chuckles. 
"Especially his dick. I mean, it wasn't even a good dick anyway."
She shrugs, but the loud laughter that erupts from everyone ends up making her grin, too. 
And just like that, as everyone tries to catch their breaths again and engage into different conversations, Aurora feels light and breeze again. So she pulls her swimsuit from her bag and gets up, finally getting enough courage to take the next step.
She turns around, then, and falls straight into Harry's eyes. 
Shit.
He's standing by the door, leaning on his shoulder and smirking at her. Watching her. Holding an expression she hasn't seen so far. It isn't an affectionate smile, it also isn't a sweet or careful smirk. And his gaze is so intense that she feels her body warming up — that she feels herself blushing. 
It seems as if he is holding himself from saying something cheeky. Or as if he's keeping a secret. As if he knows something that she doesn't, and as if he's enjoying it.
She breathes in, then holds the fabric tightly with both hands and steps forward.
"What?" she murmurs, getting closer to him and trying to keep their friends out of the conversation.
"Nothing." He shrugs, stepping aside to let her get through the door. "Just listening, that's all." 
Aurora nods. "Mhm. Okay, then."
When she walks past him, she notices how he follows the movement of her body and turns around. And also how he crosses his arms on his chest and leans his back against the narrow wall that separates their bedroom doors. 
Once again, a fluttery feeling settles in her belly. And as she moves towards the bathroom, she does her best to avoid it. And also to ignore the way his eyes keep burning into her. 
She can't, though. So when she grabs the doorknob of the bathroom door, she holds herself tightly, and turns her head as much as she can, watching him over her shoulder. 
He's still watching her, carefully, although now his sight seems to be too low to meet her eyes. 
"Harry?"
Harry drifts his eyes up, meeting her stare. 
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing." He shrugs. "Just… Watching. That's all."
She lifts her eyebrows. "Mhm. What were you just watching, then?"
He shrugs again, but he also smirks — and he smirks in such a way that, even before he opens his mouth, she knows he's about to lie.
"The back of your head?"
Aurora stares at him blankly for a second, and then she snorts. And laughs. She doesn't know what to say, though, so she faces forward and opens the door. As if she doesn't know Harry was just checking her out. And as if he didn't just playfully admit he was. Or as if she doesn't care about any of that.
And yet, as she steps forward and feels he's still watching, she maybe slows down a little. And maybe she makes sure to sway her hips. Maybe, though. And also just a little. Just in case. 
Because maybe, maybe, if Harry's watching, Aurora wants to make sure he's taking a good look. And maybe, she wants him to enjoy the view. And maybe she wants him to like what he sees when he looks at her.
Maybe, though.
Of course.
Tumblr media
Hi! If you've made it here, thank you for reading. You have absolutely no idea how much it means to me.
PART 4 (II)
20 notes · View notes
hawkeyegender · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
hes literally a soaking wet cat here
849 notes · View notes
gojonanami · 4 months
Text
❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞
Tumblr media
❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞
Tumblr media
✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K
Tumblr media
It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter. 
But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up. 
It was him. 
You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak. 
“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises? 
He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers. 
“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,” 
Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment. 
He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,” 
And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile. 
Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped. 
And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,” 
And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze. 
Fuck. 
“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,” 
You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—” 
“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked. 
And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break. 
It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?” 
He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?” 
And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks. 
“I would,” 
And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile. 
Fuck. 
“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears. 
But how can you be quiet? 
The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck. 
And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,” 
And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass. 
He’s huge. 
The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.
“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—” 
“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,” 
“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”
Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?” 
And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much. 
He was too much. 
“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,” 
“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,” 
“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?” 
“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—” 
And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns. 
He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart. 
That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up. 
“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—” 
“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt. 
He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store. 
And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—” 
“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care. 
And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump. 
You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.
“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush. 
How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,” 
“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?” 
And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling. 
“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.” 
~~~~
The two of you had fallen into a pattern. 
And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…
You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started. 
“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin. 
“What are you—” 
“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,” 
“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type. 
“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?” 
“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“ 
“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,” 
“Mahito—“ 
“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money,  “be a doll, won’t you?” 
Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?” 
You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?” 
His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice. 
“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?
Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you. 
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?” 
“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.” 
“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling. 
This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger. 
“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods. 
“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot. 
“I will,” 
“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.
“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,” 
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip. 
“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,” 
And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.” 
“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze. 
No time like the present, right?
“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—” 
And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—” 
“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,” 
“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—” 
“Have another lesson?” 
And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you. 
He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue. 
And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt. 
Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was. 
And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—” 
“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,” 
“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release. 
One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure. 
“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you. 
“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks. 
His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much. 
You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light. 
And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach. 
Your mouth runs dry. 
Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. 
Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you. 
“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it. 
And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze. 
His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch. 
His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away. 
He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—” 
And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal. 
Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod. 
He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out. 
“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.
“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!” 
And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you. 
“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out,  “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?” 
“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder. 
“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him. 
Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—” 
“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls. 
The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt. 
“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick. 
“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again. 
God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour. 
~~~
The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise. 
“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you. 
“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.” 
You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?” 
You were picking up your boyfriend. 
He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.” 
Tumblr media
note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!
tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious
29K notes · View notes
augustinewrites · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
“itadori, please respect his personal space—”
“kugisaki! stop hitting him—”
“megumi, don’t you dare bring that elephant out in my classroom—”
peace and quiet is short-lived whenever the first years are around.
you manage to quiet them down with the threat of assigning an essay, allowing you a moment’s respite to massage your temples and lean back in your seat, glancing at your phone to check just how many minutes you have left with them.
a notification pops up as you do, bringing on a whole new headache.
[satoru]: send nudes?
you quickly turn your phone over so it’s screen-down, face burning as you look around to make sure no one had seen.
peace and quiet is also short-lived whenever satoru calls out sick. because the strongest sorcerer of your time…currently has a cold.
he is, predictably, very dramatic whenever he’s sick. a mild fever means he puts himself on bedrest. a sore throat means he needs to be spoon fed a very specific homemade soup.
but the worst…oh, the worst is when he has a cold.
when satoru’s sinuses are clogged, he’s an absolute menace to deal with. his sneezes shake the apartment and his whines about sinus pressure are all you hear at the dinner table.
luckily, the students have resorted to quietly bothering each other, so you slowly turn your phone back around to deal with the man child who is likely littering the living room floor with tissues.
he’s stuck at home, which means he’s got nothing to do but annoy you.
[satoru]: haha jk
[satoru]: unless…?
huffing, you quickly type back a response.
[you]: NOT funny. i’m at work.
[satoru]: so what you’re saying is you’ll send them during lunch right ;)
“miss!” itadori shouts, his arm raised. “can fushiguro come to the arcade with us after class?”
“of course,” you say. “but please don’t forget to finish your essays on cursed technique origins. it’s due on monday.”
yuuji’s practically bouncing in his seat as he grabs megumi’s arm. hear that, fushiguro? you hear as you pick up your phone. your mom said yes!
megumi, who usually comes home on the weekends, still looks to you for approval. you assure him with a small nod and smile.
sometimes you just want to wrap him up in your arms and never let go. he may have been another couple’s blessing, but ultimately he’s yours and gojo’s pride and joy. possibly the only one you have left, as it stands.
thought you’re a little sad that he won’t be home for dinner tonight, you remind yourself that he’s growing up. for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been a sort of lone wolf. but a lone wolf is still a wolf, and a wolf needs a pack.
he’s finally found friends he’s comfortable with, and it’s good that he wants to spend time with them and vice versa.
your phone buzzes insistently in your hand.
[satoru]: pleeeeeaaaase?
[satoru]: i think it’ll really help with my recovery…
[satoru]: if this cold kills me the last thing i want to see is a picture of you
oh, that’s actually kind of—
[satoru]: nude, preferably
maybe it’s a good thing megumi won’t be home tonight. you don’t need any witnesses to the crime you’re about to commit.
[you]: what’ll help with your recovery is a visit to the infirmary.
there’s a short pause, then you watch the little bubble appear and disappear about six times.
[satoru]: shit
[satoru]: is this a scene?
you roll your eyes, waving at the kids as they head out to catch the train.
[you]: i hate you
he doesn’t answer, so you get up to hurry over to your office, shutting and locking the door behind you.
you wait a moment, opening the camera on your phone as you do so.
once the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall disappears, you start unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt—
you scream when a loud sneeze startles you, satoru suddenly appearing at your side.
he doesn’t miss a beat, plucking a tissue from your desk and blowing his nose loudly. he throws it in the general direction of the bin before slapping his palm onto your desk.
you can tell he’s attempting to be some sort of seductive, but it’s dampened bu the way he sniffles loudly, his face a little red.
“hello, doctor,” he says, a lazy grin spread across his face. “i’m here for my physical.”
“honey,” you laugh, gently cupping the sides of his face. “you need to rest.”
“but ‘m not tired,” he pouts, leaning in to nose at your neck. his skin is warm against yours, much too warm for your liking.
you tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “since i’m your doctor, i’m prescribing a nap.”
“a nap does sound kind of nice…”
he gets up, taking your hand and dragging you over to the couch with him. he locks you within his embrace, sighing contentedly as he presses you to his chest.
“wait, satoru i have to supervise the second years’ training—”
it’s too late. he’s already asleep, snoring loudly in your ear.
so you take out your phone and text nanami, asking if he can cover for you this afternoon.
because a sick satoru is a needy satoru, and you won’t be leaving this couch for a while.
7K notes · View notes
woahjo · 2 months
Text
APHRODISIAC! (Bakugou x Reader)
Tumblr media
masterlist 
Pairing: Bakugou x Reader
Summary: Katsuki gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk. You decide to check in on him. What could go wrong?
Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, dubcon, smut, porn with little to no plot, aphrodisiac quirks, quirkless reader, prohero!katsuki, rough sex, borderline free use, biting, creampie, multiple orgasms (fem!receiving), masturbation, edging (kinda), manhandling, katsuki is dominant but also not idk he's desperate, possessiveness, overstimulation, size kink, scent kink, some light aftercare! woo hoo!, friends to lovers sort of
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: yeah ik this isn't what i typically write but idk where this came from. i had a thought and it spiraled bad and now i have this. there is no deeper message. there is no meaning. i wrote this to make him FUCK and be kinda weird and desperate and pathetic about it. i needed to see him physically overpower us while also so desperate that it makes him look stupid. i feel violent. this bad boy is not going on ao3 lol. anyway, enjoy, heed the warnings.
Tumblr media
Katsuki paces around the one bedroom apartment he rents in downtown Musutafu. His skin is tingling. Every nerve he has burns like it's been set on fire, needing some sort of touch to soothe it. His cock aches between his legs, hard and leaking against the side of his thigh. Katsuki grits his teeth, running his hands over his hair and then letting his palms slide down the sides of his exposed biceps. 
Sweat collects on his skin, the kind that comes from desperation or maybe a fever, and he feels it on his palms when he lets them drop to his sides and clenches his fists. Fuck, he can't believe he got hit with a non-fatal quirk and had to be sent home. It's humiliating. What's worse is that it hasn't worn off yet, rendering him completely useless. 
He sits on his couch, his legs spread wide, and leans back against the couch cushions, wincing as he reaches to unbutton his pants. He's never been this sensitive in his life and it almost hurts to grab his cock and pull it from his pants. Katsuki watches it twitch for a moment, rigid between his legs and leaking pre-cum from its angry tip. He doesn't even have to think about anything in particular, he's just turned on. Unbearably so. 
Katsuki wraps his hand around the base of his cock and jerks upward once, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth at his own sensitivity. Then, the desperation sets in fully and he squeezes the head of his cock with a wince and a low groan before beginning to slide his hand up and down. He pauses to spit into his palm, desperate for some sort of relief from the tension weaving its way through his body, his hand moving faster and fast over this dick. Katsuki only pauses when he touches his overly sensitive head, swallowing down an audible moan as he moves his hips to desperately fuck his fist. 
He tries not to think of the humiliation in this, instead focusing on chasing a high that seems to get farther and farther. He stays like this for a while, desperately fucking his fist with low groans and whines. His face is completely flushed, sweat beading on his brow and forehead, covering every inch of his skin with a pathetic, glowing sheen. God, he's almost fucking angry. The frustration, the sheer desperation for release, is making it difficult to control his temper and he knots his free hand into the soft pillow beside him, raising it to his face and using it to cover his head so he can be a little louder. 
He's desperately humping his fist when his doorbell rings. At first, it's only once and Katsuki thinks he can ignore it, but then it comes again, five more times and consistently more aggressive. 
"Katsuki?" your voice calls through the wood paneling of his door. "I heard you got hit with a quirk and sent home. Let me in." 
He furrows his eyebrows at the irony of the last person in the world he wants to encounter at a time like this. Pretty, quirkless, you. His long time friend and recent dispatcher at his agency. Someone he secretly wants to fuck even without the aphrodisiac quirk floating through his bloodstream. You really get under his skin. You’re exactly his type, right down to that annoying little attitude of yours that drives Katsuki insane. Of course, he's always respected your friendship a little too much to do anything about it, but tonight, he doesn't think he'll be able to and he sits in silence with his lip caught between his teeth while he fucks his fists and hopes you'll go away. 
"I know you're in there," you call again. "I can see the light on." 
You bang three times on the door and then ring the doorbell again, pushy and insistent the way you always are. A match for his stubborn attitude. 
Katsuki swears and stands up, his hands shaking as he tucks his sensitive cock back into his sweatpants and flips the head up into his waistband with a hiss. 
The crazy thing is, he can literally smell you through the door. The scent of you, that sweet and rounded perfume you wear, wafts under the crack of his apartment door. He pauses outside of it, resisting the temptation to open it, to welcome that smell into his apartment and use you to relieve the aching in his cock and lower belly. 
"Katsuki?" You ask, a little quieter now. 
Jesus fucking christ, don't call his name like that. 
He swings the door open, letting his hand rest on the side of it so that it is positioned above his head. You look taken aback at his appearance, covered in sweat and flushed from the neck up, his chest exposed and heaving. 
"What?" he says, looking you up and down. 
Katsuki bites back the urge to yank you in. Why is it he can literally smell the sweat on your body and every prick of your emotions? It's like he can tell exactly what you're thinking, or maybe it's what he wants you to be thinking. 
"Don't get on my ass about me still technically needing to be at work," you start, stepping forward. "I heard something happened and I just came to check and you look like shi-" 
Katsuki blocks you from coming in with his body. You stumble backwards lightly and raise your eyebrow at him. There's a pause as you register that you've just run into a solid wall of muscle, sweat covered and glistening, while Katsuki eyes you like you're meat on a platter. He knows he's doing it, but he can literally smell every turn of your scent, soft and sweet. And he may be fooling himself... but are you... turned on? 
"Let me in?" you say with a small laugh, side stepping to go around him. He blocks you again, his fingers gripping the door frame so hard that his knuckles are white. 
"Go home," he says quietly, his voice tense. 
"What? No," you furrow your eyebrows at him. "What's the matter with you?" 
You duck under his arm and place your hand momentarily on his chest. Your touch makes him tingle all over and he sucks in a sharp breath. 
"I'm not fucking around," he says. 
"Okay, me neither," you respond with a bit of an attitude. "I expected you to be worse for wear but you look like crap. Like you're... I don't know." 
You trail off a little. 
"Let me help," you say, shaking off whatever thought had come over you. "I'll make you some food." 
"Look, no offense, but I don't think you want to help me with this," he says, a frustrated bite in his voice. Food isn't exactly what he's hungry for. 
"That's too bad," you say slowly, seemingly put off by the desperate air about him and settling into his kitchen. You move to open the fridge.
Katsuki walks up to you quickly, taking your wrist from the door and holding it between the two of you. Cool air hits his exposed chest and arm as the door falls shut again. 
"I'm dead serious. Get the fuck out of here or I'm gonna do something I regret," he hisses through a clenched jaw. Your skin is warm on the pads of his fingers, wrist held flush against his palm. He bites back a genuine shudder. 
Your eyes are wide as you look back at him, glancing between where he's caught your wrist by your head and his eyes. Katsuki's gaze roams over your face, pausing as he hits the top of your blouse where a few buttons remain open. When he returns his eyes to yours, your mouth moves to open before a heady understanding settles over your features. You're so pretty. Everything about you is pretty, so delightful and delicate. Your eyes look glassy and wide. Katsuki has always found them tempting, but today he can't stop himself. 
He leans forward and kisses you, holding your wrist to his chest as his mouth comes messily into contact with yours. You squeak and freeze and it takes all he has to pull away from you. 
"Go home," he says again, his lips tingling. Katsuki feels the color creep onto his cheeks, his hand still holding your wrist. 
You don't say anything, looking at him with those pretty eyes. He swallows thick and feels the saliva drag against his throat. Then, his mouth dries completely, his expression twisting into discomfort as his cock throbs between his legs as the scent of you takes on a sharper turn. He's never felt anything like this before, something animal. 
Katsuki tightens his jaw, staring at you for a moment. Then, he takes a step towards you. You take one back, though he doesn't feel like you're afraid. Rather, you tilt your head down to look at him through your lashes. He lets out a breath through his teeth and walks you back until your ass hits the counter, his free hand coming to gingerly touch your waist. You inhale when he leans in to kiss you again, screwing your eyes shut and reaching to grab at his shoulder to pull him closer. 
Every touch tingles. It burns and he drops your wrist to manhandle your hips. You suck on his bottom lip, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. He ruts his hips against yours, desperate for any sort of friction to relieve the ache, and you gasp a little and let your mouth fall open. Katsuki takes the opportunity to bite down hard on your lip with a low groan, slipping his tongue into your mouth as the pads of his fingers press harshly into you. You whine, eyebrows pulling up. 
Katsuki’s eyes are slightly open, just so that he can look at you. Every aspect of his senses feel heightened and the relief of your mouth far surpasses that of his hand over his throbbing cock only minutes earlier. 
He pants, taking your hips and lifting you onto the counter so that you’re seated, pulling away for just a moment to lift the hem of your shirt and expose your breasts. Katsuki puts his face on the pillowy tops of them, biting and sucking at the exposed skin as his hand teases its way up the skin of your back to unclasp it. He thinks you’re probably looking at him, but if you are, he doesn’t have the mind to care about what sort of behavior he’s exhibiting. He can practically smell how wet you are from just a little touching and if he weren’t so fucking desperate for a little relief, he’d tease you for a few hours just to watch your pussy drool over him. 
The cool air of his apartment hits your exposed nipples. Katsuki takes it upon himself, without even a second thought, to roll the hard bud under his tongue. He feels the way goosebumps rise on your skin, his hands coming to rest over the tops of your thighs. Katsuki bites lightly on your breast and you fucking whine at it, tipping your head back and rooting your hand into the tufts of his blonde hair. 
His cock jumps in his pants and he’s no doubt leaked enough to leave an evident wet spot against the gray of his sweatpants. He stands to his full height, pushing your skirt up and pressing the outline of his cock to your crotch. Heat bleeds through your panties, the kind that makes him feel like he’s going absolutely fucking insane. You gasp, putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him close again. 
Katsuki’s mouth hits yours messily, breathing hard as he ruts his hips up against your crotch, pulling you forward on the counter so he can feel as much of the pillowy folds of your pussy through the thick fabric as possible. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth, sharp canines digging into the wet flesh of your mouth. He whines— high-pitched, desperate sound—as you position your hips to press your crotch against the head of his cock. His head falls onto your chest, forehead resting against the hollow of your throat. Katsuki humps at you, pulling you against him to match the rhythm of his hips, grinding your clothed cunt over the bulge of his cock. It’s a desperate motion, completely subconscious as he lets the quirk he’s been hit with take the lead.
His fingers dip into the crease of your thigh, fumbling as they reach for the waistband of the panties you’re wearing. Katsuki’s desperation is so palpable that he finds himself panting as he slips his fingers into the sides of your underwear, yanking them down. You gasp at the force of it and he swears he hears a small tear as he pulls them from your cunt, the crotch sticking to the lips of your pussy. 
He leans his hips forward again, sliding his cock between your folds with a deep grunt. His mouth finds your neck and he bites along the side of it, lathing his tongue over your pulse point. It’s like he can taste you. Salt and that stupid perfume, collecting on his tongue as you dig your fingers into his back, his dick rutting restlessly against your clit. At one point, he almost slips in, his eagerness and your wetness making him careless. Katsuki sucks in a breath through his teeth, his whole body on fire. 
The kitchen light shines down on his back and he can see the outline of part of his shadow on your thighs as he stares down at them, guiding the tip of himself to your entrance. He hears you wine when he presses against it and moves his hand down subconsciously to rub at your clit. An attempt to ease the stretch. 
You tip your head back in a moan and Katsuki takes the opportunity to kiss your neck before settling his teeth against your shoulder and biting down harshly on the muscle connecting your neck and arm. You yelp at the sensation and Katsuki shutters at the sound, willing out a choked I’m sorry as he slides into your wetness. His hands push into the delightfully soft flesh of your upper thighs, the fat spilling up around each individual digit as he uses your legs for leverage, sliding you forward even further to better seat you on him. 
Your legs are shaking and he can feel the way your nails dig into his exposed shoulder blades. Your bunch up skirt causes the fat of your tummy to fold over in a way that practically makes Katsuki drool. He urges himself to pause, attempting to come back to his senses as the quirk kicks into high gear. There’s relief in being inside of you, in feeling the flutter of your walls around his thick cock, but it also makes him desperate. Katsuki feels like he’s chasing something that he was desperately and it’s just out of his reach. 
You’re breathing heavily above him, he can see the rise and fall of your chest from where his head hangs down, his hands trembling on the tops of your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes, his vision foggy around the edges as if he were peering through a tube. You’re at the end of it, your eyes glassy and mouth open, returning the look. Your eyebrows are knitted up in pleasure, but you almost seem confused. 
“What are you waiting for?” You breathe out, the first thing you’ve said since he started touching you. 
The tone of your voice is needy, with a delightful whiny lilt that makes him groan out loud. He can barely manage the words that come out next, his brain half mush, and he feels the way his cock jumps inside of you. 
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says through gritted teeth, his breath coming heavy. 
There’s a pause and he feels the distinct sensation of you squeezing down around his cock, like the idea turns you on. 
“Use me,” you respond cautiously, your voice still containing that needy lilt. 
Katsuki’s hips fuck up into you voluntarily and he feels the way his breath catches in his throat at the near desperate sound of your voice.
“Say that again.” 
“Use me, Katsuki,” you respond, choking on your words as he fucks his hips up into you. 
You reach for his face, taking it in your hands and drawing it close until it’s just in front of yours. Then, your palms slide down his shoulders and he screws his eyes shut and fucks into you again, harder this time, causing your body to jolt upwards on the counter. 
He curses under his breath, pushing one leg further to the side and fucking his hips up into you roughly. You’re looking right at him, your expression drawn and pleasure-soaked, sweat collecting on your forehead as your mouth drops open into an o-shape. You punctuate his thrusts with high pitched yelps, squeaking out your pleasure and the deepness of where he’s hitting through choked moans. 
Katsuki’s hands move up your stomach to roughly cup your breasts, his mouth so close to yours that he’s practically breathing in the sounds you make in exchange for his own hurried groans. He kneads at the fat of your chest, rolling your breast under his fingers before taking your nipples and pulling lightly on them. 
He’s aware of just how rough he’s being, just how hard his hips are slapping yours, but he feels like he can’t stop. Katsuki chases a high so fucking desperate that his body is on autopilot, reaching and touching and moaning unabashedly as the room fills with the wet sound of his balls on the backs of your thick thighs. 
You push your chest forward towards him, legs spread wide to make room for the width of his hips between yours as he bullies that perfect sensitive spot inside of you. Katsuki feels the way he makes you flutter. Every shift of your body, every involuntary squeeze of your cunt as he drags his cock along your walls, registers as if he were a part of you. His skin tingles everywhere you touch and the drag of your nails over his shoulder blades makes him want to crawl into the deepest part of you. Even the sound of your voice, drawn and desperate and mildly overwhelmed, feels like a drug to him. Every sense he has seems to be acutely attuned to just how badly he needs to fuck your lights out. 
His hands slink down to your hips, resituating you and pulling you flush against him. Then, he drags his cock all the way out of you and quickly ruts back in, moaning as he does. His pace picks up, manhandling you forward on the counter until he is supporting most of your weight. You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as you let him use you like a toy. 
Katsuki chases his high, his stomach seeming to wind tighter and tighter but never finding that perfect snap and release. His movements grow faster, using all of his strength to fuck his hips up into you, barreling his cock against your gummy walls and bullying your sweet spot. He feels the way you tighten down around him, your body tensing and fingers digging crescent moons into the tops of his shoulders. 
“Ka-” you choke out desperately, your voice breaking. “Wait, Katsuki, wait! I’m gonna-” 
You shudder, your thighs squeezing around him as he continues to fuck you. 
“Do it,” he seethes, “just fuckin’ do it.” 
The end of his sentence comes out as more of a whimper as you cry out and squeeze down around him, squirming in his grasp as you begin to twitch with every additional thrust. Your body shakes, legs locking around him and struggling to hold him inside as he fucks you clear through your orgasm and then to the other side. 
Katsuki’s voice breaks, almost whimpering like an animal as he buries himself in your pussy over and over again. He wants to smother you, he wants to completely cover your body and get as close as he possibly can. He’s already so much bigger than you, so much broader, how hard could it be to swallow you completely? 
Katsuki’s hands come up under your ass as he wordlessly lifts you from the counter and moves to the couch on desperate, shaky steps. He lays you down, slipping out of you for a moment, before pressing a hand to the inside of your thigh, spreading your legs, and sinking his cock back into you as he crowds his body over yours. 
“You know what?” He says, not really sure what’s going to come next. His head is so clouded with the quirk that he can’t think straight. “I’ve wanted to do this forever. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so- long-” 
He screws his eyes shut, almost angry with the way he can’t seem to hit that high, teetering on a desperate and near painful edge. 
“Those fuckin’ pencil skirts,” he says, unable to control his words or sharp tone. “The way you wear your hair, that damn look in your eye that constantly makes you seem like you’re beggin’ for it.” 
Katsuki whines, a sharp sound from the back of his throat, as you tighten up around him. He meets your gaze, clouded and watery eyes accented by the delightful furrow in the center of your brow. 
“And then you show up here,” he groans, not even sure of what he’s really saying. “Blouse unbuttoned, looking for trouble. I’m gonna fuck your lights out. ‘Till you can’t even think about fuckin’ anyone else.” 
He leans in close, his mouth right up against yours. 
“This is g’nna make you mine, right?” 
You nod, your movements clumsy, and pull him close to you. 
Katsuki loses all of his sense, burying himself in the feel of your pussy and the way he sinks into you, giving into the desperation of the quirk. He can feel just how deep he’s hitting, the way you suck in sharp, whiny breaths with every inward thrust. Katsuki’s hands grip your waist, pulling your ass up off the couch so that his angle is better. 
His cock seems to drag endlessly against your overstimulated, pillowy, insides and you practically drool around. He feels like a dog slobbering over meat, any semblance of politeness completely gone from both his expression and his movements. This is going to fucking ruin your friendship, but he doesn’t even have half of a mind to think about it, so drawn into the delightful feel of your body and the aching in his cock that only seems to subside slightly with every thrust. 
You try to choke out the word “again” and he feels like he knows what’s coming. Your whole body tenses, legs locking around him as you cream over his cock for the second time. 
This seems to get Katsuki somewhere, the sensation of your pussy clamping down finally giving him some leeway to relief. He hits the edge of an orgasm, leading himself to the finish line. 
The tension in his belly grows, cock twitching inside of your fucked out cunt. His fingers dig into your hips and he collapses forward, rolling his body so that the head of his cock catches perfectly inside of you, massaging and churning you up. You’re moaning, though maybe it’s more adjacent to whining, and Katsuki can hear himself mimicking the sounds, his body leading the way. 
Then finally, on a pathetic and broken whimper, Katsuki cums. His whole body tenses, weight pressing down on you as he buries his face into your neck and lets his voice out beside the hollow of your throat. The relief and pleasure is so intense that Katsuki feels the way every muscle in his body tenses and lets go, filling you up with as much of him as he has to give. 
His hips continue to pathetically rut into you, little choked moans escaping his lips as he uses his own cum as lube for his weak little thrusts. Then, he completely relaxes. 
Katsuki feels the way his skin stops burning, the way the desperation at the back of his throat subsides, how his body rids itself of the quirk as quickly as the arousal came on. He shudders, coming back to himself and raising his head to peer at your expression. 
You look exhausted, hair a mess and face covered in a thick sheen of sweat. You still flutter around his cock, your hands gripping his shoulders as you try and ride through the overstimulation of just having him inside of you. Katsuki furrows his brows, exhaustion creeping into his muscles. He raises his hand and uses it to push stray strands of hair from your face with his palm on your forehead. Then, with a clear mind, he leans forward and kisses you. 
You blink at him for a second, before giving a weak smile, raising your eyebrows and letting your head fall to the side. Katsuki winces when he pulls out of you, sucking in a sharp breath and standing to his full height. He places a hand on his forehead like he’s assessing the situation, staring at your body, still fully clothed with your skirt pushed all the way up your stomach and your blouse missing a button at the top. 
He wordlessly walks to the bathroom and wets a washcloth with warm water, walking back over to you and wiping down the exposed parts of your body. You don’t really say anything to him, but you smile quietly while he gingerly wipes you down, your smeared makeup accenting just how much of a mess he’s made. 
“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how-” 
“How you wanted this to go?” You say softly, the corners of your lips turning up. 
Katsuki feels the way he flushes, all the way to the tops of his chest. 
“No, it’s not,” he admits, running a hand over his face as he crouches beside you. 
You laugh a little and he furrows his brows at you, frustrated and embarrassed. 
“You’ve got a bit of a possessive streak, huh?” You tease lightly.
“I got hit with some asshole’s fuckin’ quirk and-” he begins explaining himself, something he probably should have done when you showed up at the door. 
“It was good though,” you say, tilting your head at him from where you lay.
Katsuki blinks at you, his expression completely flat. You should really know just how fucking crazy you drive him. Then, he scowls a little, not because he’s upset, but because he’s currently feeling the opposite and that makes him awkward. 
“You’re into that shit?” He says, a bit incredulously. 
You shrug and give him a coy smile. 
4K notes · View notes
risuola · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
YOU CRYIN'? — F. READER x GOJO SATORU
You and Gojo know each other since high school, and since then, you also hate each other. He bites and you always bite back, the constant argument creates tension that everybody, except you two, seem to notice. One time you said too much, causing Gojo’s self-control to snap.
cw: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing, mentions of bullying (Satoru is a meanie, ok?), overstimulation, enemies to lovers kind of vibe, I feel like the "you cryin'?" line in itself is a warning if you heard the dub version of it, reader discretion is advised — 1,4k words
» PART TWO
Tumblr media
"You cryin'?", Satoru taunted, thrusting his hips relentlessly into yours, with a handful of your hair in his unforgiving grip. Standing behind you, with one hand digging into the supple flesh of your side to steady himself, he was pounding behavior into you.
You and Satoru Gojo have a history of never-ending venom-spitting and it's safe to say you hated the man and the man hated you with passion for years now. It started in high school, where you just couldn't stand how full of himself he was, looking at everybody from above as if he was so much better than everyone and yes, you are aware of how powerful of an individual he is but the arrogance that came with it was just unbearable. Much more you liked his closest friend Suguru, but as years passed, you found yourself working closely with Gojo more and more often, because you decided to stay at Jujutsu high in Tokyo to help students learn. You were strong enough to be considered a high 1st grade sorcerer and everything you achieved, you earned by hard work and stubbornness but that didn’t stop the know-it-all from bullying you, no. He had an awful habit of pouring more fuel into the constant fire of argument between you two and you never owed him, always biting back. That being said, your constant bickering with Satoru successfully brought you to where you were now.
Pressed against the wooden desk, sweaty and exhausted as your body was chasing the fourth orgasm with no break in between. It was a torture – the way he was slamming his cock inside of you at the pace that left you breathless, it hurt from overstimulation and burned with pleasure at the same time. You always acted tough, but now you couldn't stop the tear rolling down your cheek as his grip on your hair tightened and his teeth sank into the delicate skin between your neck and shoulder.
"You’re really cryin’”, he grinned teasingly and turned your head more to the side, kissing the tear away. Delighted at the sight, Satoru pulled back and flipped you over so he could see your pretty face when he pushed his girth back onto your swollen insides, kissing every oversensitive spot on his way while hooking your thighs over his hips. You dug fingers into his skin, leaving crescent moon shapes of your nails engraved into his flesh and you once again could feel his pace picking up. Naively, you grabbed at his hip, trying to slow him down but with no effect.
"So pretty, fuck, when you cry like that," he grunted, kissing along the salty trace on your face and down your neck to see the bruising mark of his teeth was already blooming with reds and purples. "Think you have few more in you?", he asked and the thought of few more orgasms terrified you. "You'll have to, 'm nowhere near to be done, wit' ya," a chuckle echoed in his chest and you couldn't tell if his objective was to kill you in the most humiliating way possible or what.
"N-no," you protested and he laughed once more, pulling out almost completely.
"No?", Satoru grined in his usual, annoyingly handsome manner but you barely saw him through the collage of stars in your sight, "'ts too bad you've been naughty lately. Need to fuck some behavior into you."
"Gojo-", you whined, helpless against his muscular body as he was ramming ruthlessly, abusing your swollen oversensitive insides to your limits.
"Nuh-uh", he wrapped his slender fingers around your throat, putting no pressure, but redirecting your head so you looked him in the eyes and you could drown in the crystalline blue tones surrounded by thick snowy eyelashes if you wouldn't know better. "That's not my name, sweetheart."
"Go to hell, Goj-, fuck", you whined and he thrusted harder, your back was slamming against the wooden counter but he was unbothered by the echoing pounding sound that clearly was indicating what was happening in his office.
"That's. not. my. name.", he growled, accentuating every word with a particularly sharp thrust and it was enough for you to drown in the haziness.
"Sa-, uh", you tried, but his pace was unforgiving, his cock fucking you dumb but he hummed teasingly, encouraging you to speak. "'toru- fuck. Satoru, please."
"There we go, wasn't that hard now, was it?", smiling, the sorcerer lifted you up, angling his hips upwards, his cock reaching even deeper although you thought it's impossible. The blunt head kissed every spot inside you and you felt another orgasm approaching. Satoru groaned at how your walls were flexing around his girth and this time, he chased his own, the first one, the one he's been denying himself in order to drive you insane.
He was panting heavily, groaning against your neck, profanities slipping through his mouth as he twitched inside you. Suddenly he grabbed you harshly, nails digging into your trembling thighs and he lowered himself on the expensive leathery chair, giving you a slap to the tender skin, silently ordering you to work. You straddled him, supporting your hands over his shoulders and you pushed him against the back rest, surely bruising his muscles with the harsh grip you had on him. You were desperate to finish him off, to put an end to the torture he’s subjected you to for talking too much. At this point you don’t even remember what caused his composure to snap, what has gotten you into the endless spiral of agonizing pleasure with a man you despised. The man that now you were riding with the last bits of your power, fighting the mind-numbing rush of your own release to bring him to his and you could tell how close he was. Satoru’s jaws were clenched, his fingers were digging harshly into the tender skin of your sides and his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His abs were flexing, cock was twitching and his tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined with endless amounts of fucks and yeses. His eyes closed shut and he threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed at his white hair, smearing open mouthed kisses all over his throat and collar bones, and your movements stuttered with your dripping pussy squelching for the nth time. That was enough for Satoru – he gave in, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled his load into you, filling you completely with warmth and you were quick to come right after him. Your ups and downs became sloppy, uneven as you slowly ride your highs out and finally, you raised your hips just enough to have him out.
Falling back heavily against his body, you leaned your head over his shoulder in hopes to calm the panting. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage, you felt the concoction of juices running down your thigh and dripping onto Satoru’s legs, but you couldn’t care less. With his hands releasing your flesh that he was squeezing unwaveringly, you felt your body finally relaxing, your mind coming back to senses and it slowly came to you, what just happened.
Never, not even once in your life, you considered even willing to kiss Gojo Satoru. Yes, he’s annoyingly handsome; yes, his eyes are the most beautiful, magical blue crystalline spheres nature could ever create, and yes – there was a tension between you two since the day you met him, or at least everyone around always pointed that out but you never truly considered him an option and yet, you not only kissed him, but spend god-knows-how-long fucking him – or rather being fucked by him.
“You have to misbehave more often”, he teased, finally able to form his words coherently and you looked at him, eyes still cloudy but you could tell with no mistake that his lips were curled up in a smirk. You almost heard him smirking, that’s how obvious it was. You blinked, clearing your vision to take in his view. Gojo’s face was blissfully tired, he still was breathing though his mouth and the snowy peaks of his hair clung artistically to his sweaty forehead. He was stunning like this, so fucked out, he looked like he’s high and you took few mental pictures of his handsome daze. You also noted to yourself that you, indeed, need to misbehave more frequently.
» PART TWO
Tumblr media
11K notes · View notes
inhonoredglory · 9 months
Text
Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality
Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.
I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.
Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,
Tumblr media
We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.
I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.
Tumblr media
Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)
That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.
Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.
But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.
Tumblr media
And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.
I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)
But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.
Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).
Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.
(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)
At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.
“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.
Tumblr media
Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.
Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.
But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.
Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)
Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.
Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”
____
In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.
Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.
Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.
And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.
And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.
Tumblr media
11K notes · View notes
lovelybucky1 · 7 months
Text
Treat Me Wrong
Tumblr media
Kinktober Day 16- Degradation Kink
warnings: AFAB!Reader, manipulation, gaslighting, cheating, sex work, roleplay, spanking, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, 18+ minors DNI
main masterlist
kinktober masterlist
“I think we should break up,” you say.
Tommy’s face twists in anger and confusion. “Where’d you get that idea?” he asks.
This is exactly why you want to break up. He’s so dismissive and he doesn’t respect you. He’s sitting relaxed in his chair like you didn’t just suggest ending your relationship. Why is it so difficult for him to care about you?
“I’m not happy!” you say.
Tommy scoffs in response. “You live like a princess. What else could you possibly need?”
“Love and attention,” you huff.
“Christ,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you a child? Do you really need me to attend to you all day to be content?”
“Not all day, Tommy. Just sometimes. What's the point in even having a lover if you won't spend time with them?"
"You act like I have a lot of free time to waste. I'm a very busy man."
His way of having excuses for everything make you feel like you're going insane.
"You have enough time to spend with prostitutes," you say bitterly. This makes Tommy perk up. "I know you go to see them after work and lie to me when you get home late. Why do you bother stringing me along if you'd rather pay for your companionship?"
Tommy chuckles darkly. "That's what this is about, eh?"
"Why the fuck are you laughing, Tommy?"
He stands up from his chair and crosses the room to stand in front of you. He places one hand on your hip while the other holds his cigarette. The smoke swirls in front of your face, the pungent smell burning your nose.
"You're jealous of my whores?" he asks smugly.
"What do they have that I don't," you ask angrily.
"I have certain needs that they satisfy."
You scoff and push his hand off of you. "We're together, Tommy. You should come to me to satisfy your needs, not step out on me."
Tommy rolls his eyes and grabs ahold of your wrist. "What I need isn't appropriate for a high society woman like yourself."
You furrow your brows in confusion, but no matter what he's talking about, you want to be able to provide it for him. "You don't get to decide what's appropriate for me or not. Besides, you'd know that I'm very adventurous if you ever took the time to actually be intimate with me."
He blinks slowly at you and licks his lips, then smirks devilishly. "You want me to treat you like one of my whores?"
"Yes, Tommy."
"Right." Tommy stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray on the side table, the turns his attention back to you. Both of his hands are on your hips now, holding you firmly. "You promise not to get upset?"
"Why would I get upset?"
Tommy fights back a smirk. "Because I tend to be a bit... harsh."
"Harsh?" you ask.
"You said you want me to fuck you like a whore. A dirty, cheap, used up whore that's only good for taking cock. Is that right?" You hesitantly nod. "Then until I'm finished, that's exactly what you're going to be. I'm only going to stop if you tell me to, otherwise I'm going to have you just like I have them."
"Okay," you breathe.
Tommy steps away from you and sits back in his chair. "Take your dress off," he instructs.
You find it a bit odd that he's just watching instead of also getting undressed, but it does make you feel better that the prostitutes he visits don't get to see him naked.
You strip piece by piece until you're bare in front of him. He stands up again and looks over your body, occasionally prodding and groping you.
"Turn around," he says, voice low. You do as he says and you allow yourself to be moved over to the couch. Tommy pushes you so you're bent at the waist over the arm rest, bare ass on display.
Tommy continues to grope you; he slaps your cheeks, spreads and slaps them, and teases at your folds.
“Wet already? Didn’t think whores got off on their work,” he says.
Without much prep, he shoves two fingers into your cunt. Like a true whore, you take them easily. He opens you up by scissoring his fingers inside you. He's going quickly, not bothering to take his time and make it pleasurable for you. You suppose he pays for his own pleasure, not yours.
"Already loose too. How many others did you have today?" he asks. When you don't answer him, he delivers a slap to your ass.
"N-none," you whimper.
"Sounds like business is slow."
He pulls his fingers out of you and wipes your wetness on your thigh. He then moves to press his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the bulge in his slacks. He grinds up against you shamelessly, making you feel even more humiliated now that he's simulating fucking you while he's fully dressed.
"Tell me you want my cock," he orders.
"I want your cock," you parrot with a whine in your voice.
"You can be more convincing than that," he says with a slap to your ass. "Be a good whore and beg me to fuck you."
You take a deep breath. "Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad... Mr. Shelby," you add for good measure.
That seems to please him, because he moves away from you far enough to pull his cock through his fly. He rubs the head through your folds, teasing your entrance with it.
"I'm not going to catch anything from fucking you raw, am I?" he asks, though he knows the answer.
"No, sir," you reply.
You're glad he bent you over like this, because that means he can't see your embarrassed face and you don't have to look into his intimidating eyes.
"Mm, good."
He pushes inside you, not gently but he doesn't aim to hurt you. Once he's fully seated inside, he begins to thrust before you're ready for it. You gasp in surprise, but you're helpless to do anything but take it.
"Didn't think pussy so cheap would take me so well," he groans. His hands grip tightly on your hips and he slams you back to meet each of his thrusts. His cock bumps against your cervix uncomfortably, but it feels best for him when you take it all the way, and that's the only thing that matters.
With each thrust, you make a punched out little moan. Tommy, however, is silent above you, save for a bit of heavy breathing. It isn't until you arch your back and really start putting on a show that he speaks up.
"Like a fuckin' professional, eh? I should come to you more often. Y'know, my woman's a real bitch sometimes. Never lets me fuck her like this. Thinks she's too good to get bent over. Has so many opinions, too. But you're a good woman; quiet, tight," he leans down, draping himself over your back to speak into your ear. "Obedient."
You can't help but moan at his filthy words, despite how degrading they are. You shouldn't find your lover talking badly about you so arousing, but you cant help it.
"She gets so mad I cheat on her but I think she'd understand if she felt this cunt for herself. 'm gonna marry her and fuck her full of babies to keep her busy while I give the real good stuff to you."
"Fuck," you whimper and immediately regret it.
"You like when I talk to you like a whore? You like getting fucked hard like I don't love you?"
It's rare that Tommy says he loves you. So rare, in fact, that you often doubt if it's true.
"Yes, yes," you gasp. "I love you."
"Mm," he hums. "Save it for when I'm not paying you."
4K notes · View notes