#and he still was the next suspect. i really wanna know what he did to get dragged into this.

[loveinhawkins]

When Steve gets to his last year at Hawkins High, it feels like some kind of veil has been lifted right in front him. Or maybe it’s more that the veil’s actually been slowly lifting for years, and he’s noticing it all the more because it’s no longer there.

Either way, when he receives his yearbook, it doesn’t seem like the huge deal that his younger self would’ve made it out to be; he flicks through the pictures half-heartedly, doesn’t even care when the candid ones taken at sporting events catch him in unflattering poses, lip jutting out in concentration.

If he tried to voice his disinterest, Henderson would probably spout off some precocious shit about societal expectations, and Steve would pretend to nod sagely before stealing whatever dorky hat he happened to be wearing—it’s not like he could let the little shit suspect that he occasionally had a point, Steve would never hear the end of it.

The yearbook signings are predictably inescapable: people passing their books back and forth in class or in the cafeteria—and that one’s a risky move, with the threat of drinks spilling on the pages, whether accidental or malicious.

Steve thinks the fever’s dwindled out until he spends a free period in the school library. The seniors typically all bunch together in one of the far corners, the spots with the comfiest seats—loners included, like the perks of age for once outweigh the usual ridicule.

But that silent truce is not exactly being upheld, Steve notes—Eddie Munson is sitting alone at a nearby table.

It becomes painfully obvious when the signing starts up again. There’s a cluster of girls on the yearbook committee who initiate it, and soon every senior in reach is either passing over their own book or signing one.

Almost every senior.

It’s not like Eddie’s the only person ever to be held back. He’s not even the only one to be held back for next year, either: John Nelson off the swim team is in the same position, and he’s still been asked to sign.

But Steve knows that’s not what the source of exclusion is, not really.

He’s gotten good at spotting silent cruelty—good at avoiding it too, before his popularity gave him a temporary shield.

It’s all just bullshit, he thinks. It’s been a recurring thought lately.

He brings out his own yearbook because he knows it’s expected. When it’s finally passed back round to him, he ends up right near the seat opposite Eddie’s, just by chance.

But actually sitting there is his own choice.

He can tell that Eddie has spotted him even though he’s not looked up from whatever homework he’s doing; there’s a silent tension in the way he’s holding his pen.

Steve mulls it over before he asks the question. It could blow up in his face, but what did that matter, really? In the grand scheme of things, it would hardly count as a major embarrassment; it’s not like it’d be any more mortifying than telling his dad that he didn’t get into any colleges whatsoever.

So he pushes his yearbook across the table, because what the hell.

“Wanna sign?”

Eddie glances up. There’s a guarded look in his eyes, and Steve can almost hear him mentally replaying the question.

“Pardon?” Eddie says with pointed emphasis, like he’s daring Steve, let it drop and we’ll say no more about it, Harrington.

Steve doesn’t take it back. He shrugs and flicks open the yearbook, finds a blank spot and taps it once with his finger, a silent offer.

Eddie stares like Steve’s a riddle, like he’s wondering just who the show’s for—but the other students have turned away, have gone back to their seats, yearbooks temporarily forgotten.

Eddie’s hold on his pen relaxes, ever so slightly.

“You sure, Harrington?” he says. There’s still a wary edge to his voice, but there’s an undercurrent of something else, too, like he’s secretly amused despite himself. “Haven’t you heard what folks say? I could curse you.”

Steve scoffs. “That all you’ve got? I’ve dealt with way worse, man,” he says mildly.

A corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a surprised smile. Then it’s gone almost like it had never been in the first place, his gaze turning thoughtful rather than defensive.

And obviously this isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo at the whole senior year thing. Steve wonders if there’s a veil that’s been lifted for him too, wonders if he can see straight through it right now.

The bell rings.

Eddie stands up, gathering his stuff.

Steve thinks that’s the end of it: something that’s neither a success or a failure.

But then, lightning fast, Eddie darts across the table and scribbles something on the open page. Slams the yearbook shut and pushes it back over, and it feels like a challenge, like some of his caginess is back—like he’s just daring Steve to reveal that it had been a joke all along—

“Bet you’re counting down the days till you can hold your own copy, huh?” Steve says dryly, as he stuffs the book into his bag.

It’s a risk; he knows Eddie could easily take it as pure ridicule, could misinterpret it as Steve throwing the failed school years back in his face.

Eddie just shakes his head, but he could be laughing—the moment’s gone too quickly for Steve to know for sure.

“Nah, Harrington,” Eddie says easily, thrown over his shoulder as he leaves, “those things aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on.”

Steve doesn’t check the yearbook until he’s home. He eventually finds Eddie’s signature, simple black ink right in the upper corner of one page.

Good luck, Steve. —Eddie

Some of the letters are bunched a little too close together, drifting upwards on the blank page, as if they usually need lined paper to guide them—left-handed, Steve thinks vaguely.

Within a sea of scrawled nicknames and loudly enthusiastic messages, Steve finds that he kind of likes how mundane Eddie’s truly is. Likes the sign off with minimal fuss. Just “Eddie.” Likes how he was just “Steve”, too.

And yeah, if anyone needed to be told good luck, Steve thinks, with the kind of amusement that only comes from distance—pictures his past self, freaking out about monsters come to life.

He slots the yearbook into his bookcase. By summer he might forget about it altogether, left to gather dust as he works for 3 bucks an hour, but for now he marks its significance: something real, hidden alongside the bullshit.

#back with the unexpected kindness in high school agenda #pre steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[unclewaynemunson]

Something nameless is growing between Steve and Eddie. Steve wonders how long it'll take until this thing has a name, but for now, it's enough that it's just something. Something good. Something just for them. A secret of the most delicious kind.

He doesn't necessarily want to lie to Dustin, of course, but he doesn't really know what else to do. Not as long as this thing between him and Eddie is still nameless and Dustin is basically cornering him in the Hawkins High parking lot, way too enthusiastic about the fact that he's there to pick up Nancy.

'No, it's not a date, you little shrimp,' he repeats for what feels like the millionth time. And that statement couldn't be more true: he and Nancy are long past their weird post-breakup-end-of-the-world confusion. It's been good to reconnect with her and he's glad that they can truly be good friends, now.

Dustin shoots him an unimpressed glare and Steve groans in frustration when the boy opens his mouth to retort.

'I'm actually seeing someone else,' he says before Dustin can speak again. If he has to hear him say one more time that he should date either Nancy or Robin, he might actually punch him in the face. And he doesn't want to do that. Not really.

Dustin gasps.

'Why didn't you tell me?!'

'Because you're being annoying as shit about my love life,' Steve shoots back.

Dustin already opens his mouth for some smartass reply, but they get interrupted by a high-pitched scream. Steve whips his head only to find Eddie dramatically running towards them, limbs flailing and a huge grin on his face.

'Stevie!' he shouts out while crashing into Steve like a cannonball. Steve huffs, but is all too happy to catch him in his arms. He knows he shouldn't let his touch linger too long, not with Dustin right there, but it's really fucking difficult to pull back within an appropriate timeframe.

'What are you doing here?' Eddie looks hopeful, like he's suspecting that Steve came to the school for him.

'I'm meeting Nancy,' he admits, feeling almost guilty about it.

'He was just telling me about this girl he's seeing!' Dustin exclaims. 'Can you believe he didn't tell me? Did you know about this, Eddie?'

Eddie's smile falls off his face within a split second, and he takes a stumbling step backwards.

'You're seeing a girl?' His voice has gone cold. Betrayal shines from his big brown eyes.

'Eddie,' Steve starts, but he doesn't know what else to say – not with Dustin standing right there and hearing every word of their conversation.

'Go fuck yourself, Harrington.' He spits the words out and turns around, leaving Steve frozen and Dustin open-mouthed.

'Eddie, wait!' Steve calls out behind him, but Eddie only throws his arm up to flip him off, without looking back.

'Shit, fuck, damnit,' Steve mumbles under his breath as he runs after Eddie.

'Eddie, listen.' He grabs his leather-clad arm, but Eddie breaks himself free from Steve's grip with force. He finally looks at Steve again, tears in his eyes.

'I don't wanna hear it,' he says with a trembling voice as he reaches his van and climbs inside.

'But Dustin was–'

'Dustin was pretty damn clear.'

'No, it's all a –'

But Eddie slams the door shut while the word misunderstanding dies on Steve's tongue unheard. Steve watches helplessly how Eddie roughly wipes a hand over his face, puts his keys in the ignition as if he's stabbing someone, and drives off.

'Steve, what the fuck,' Dustin's voice says; when Steve looks to his right, he sees that Dustin has appeared next to him. 'He thought you were his friend! Why didn't you tell him about your girl?' It sounds accusatory, and Steve can't fucking deal with this right now.

'Why didn't you shut your goddamned big mouth for once in your life?' he snaps at him.

Dustin's eyes go wide with the surprise of Steve talking to him with that much venom in his voice; it's clear that he finally realizes he did something wrong.

'Steve, I – I didn't mean to – I didn't know he'd get mad!'

Steve sighs, long and heavy.

'Go home, Henderson,' he says stiffly.

He wishes that the genuinely apologetic look on Dustin's face would be enough to make it all good, but it isn't. Not as long as he still has the look in Eddie's eyes when he drove away burnt on his retina.

'I'm sorry, Steve.' And with slumped shoulders, Dustin turns around and trudges towards the bike racks.

Update: you can read pt2 here

#I'M SORRY I PROMISE I'LL FIX IT #2 more parts will be up soon #i don't do unhappy endings and that is a rule i'll never break alright #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #stranger things #fruity ficlet

[loudstan]

Fuck the Police

Summary: Your ability to read people's minds is very useful for the police during interrogations. And that's how you meet Yuta, a werewolf accused of stealing a car.

Pairing: Werewolf! Yuta x Witch! Female reader

Warnings: Magic AU, werewolf AU, smut, Yuta being a menace

“How many times do I have to tell you? You got the wrong guys!” Yuta repeated after who knows how many times. He tried to be as calm as possible at first, reminding himself that these people were doing their job, but god was this dude dense.

“They saw you,” an equally exhausted policeman groaned. He had easily been arguing with the suspected criminal for an hour without getting any information from him. The younger boy next to him, Shotaro, wasn’t particularly helpful either, squirming nervously on his seat and nodding to everything the older man said.

“No one saw us because we were not there! Jesus, are you dumb?!” Yuta exclaimed, raising his voice.

The policeman tilted his head and stared down at Yuta. “If I were you, I would be very careful with how I talk to the police.”

“Fuck the police,” Yuta hissed, and at that minute the door opened and a beautiful young woman came in. Yuta’s mouth fell open. He wasn’t a fan of police uniforms but damn did it look good on you. Or maybe it wasn’t the uniform, but you? Because no matter how much the clothes covered, your curves were still visible and oh so much appreciated…

“Did you call for me, Officer Choi?” You asked your colleague.

“Sorry to bother you, officer L/N. I’m afraid I need some help interrogating these two,” he replied, standing up and pulling out an empty chair for you to sit like he often did. Damn, Yuta wished he had been the one to do that for you but he was handcuffed to the table.

You nodded and thanked him, before taking a seat in front of the two Japanese men. One of them kept looking at his own hands on the table and looked like he was about to cry. The other… was basically devouring you with his eyes.

You weren’t new to this type of scenario. Your ability to literally read people’s minds was often needed for interrogations, and you knew how to keep a straight face no matter how intimidating the criminal was. But this guy? He was fucking hot.

You cleared your throat and focused on your task instead. After reading the documents and hearing what you needed to know from Seungcheol Choi, you started the interrogation. “Did you steal this car?” You asked straight to the point, showing the two men in front of you a picture of the missing vehicle.

“…What if we did?” The guy who according to the document in front of you was called Yuta Nakamoto replied after a few seconds.

You couldn’t help the surprised look on your face, which wasn’t as surprised as Seungcheol’s; so this guy really argued with him for hours just to confess the moment you walked in? And the winning prize goes to Shotaro, whose eyes were wide in terror as he stared at Yuta.

“…So, did you?” You insisted.

“I mean, we could have,” Yuta shrugged.

“WE DIDN’T!” The younger, terrified man let his voice be heard for the first time, shaking his head. “We really didn’t!”

You looked into Shotaro’s eyes and concentrated on reading his thoughts. He was being honest. But then what was the other guy’s deal? You tried to read Yuta’s mind and regretted it immediately; all his thoughts were focused on you, your face…

That mouth, what pretty sounds can it make?

You sat up straight and tried not to blush too hard.

“Please, concentrate on the question, Mr. Nakamoto,” you said through gritted teeth. “Are you innocent?”

“I’m far from that,” he replied, allowing his eyes to travel down your body. Next to him, Shotaro groaned.

“This is the worst possible moment to flirt! I don’t wanna go to jail!” He hissed at Yuta in Japanese.

“We’ll go to jail if we have to,” the older replied firmly.

“We literally don’t have to! We didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Shotaro, just trust me.”

“ No!” the younger replied. “ You’re not thinking straight because you’re horny.”

“I’m not just horny, pup,” Yuta chuckled, his eyes sparkling like never before. “I have just met my forever mate. I imprinted.”

“HUH?!” Shotaro yelled.

On the opposite side of the table, Seungcheol and you stared at each other and then back to the wolves who suddenly seemed very excited about something.

“What’s going on?” Seungcheol mumbled.

“I don't know! They’re thinking too fast and in a language that I don’t understand!” You hissed back.

“Hey!” Seungcheol yelled, his authoritative tone catching everyone’s attention. “Did you do it or not?!”

“Maybe,” Yuta said.

“No!” Shotaro said at the same time.

 And then they went back to arguing with each other.

“That one seems to be honest,” you told Seungcheol, pointing at Shotaro. “But the other guy’s head is a mess, so I can’t be sure…”

Seungcheol let out a frustrated sigh. His job could be so exhausting sometimes. 

 And then he suddenly smirked, his eyes shining excitedly like he just had the best idea ever. 

“Could you please get us something to drink? I bet these men are very thirsty,” he said, giving you a pointed look that lets you know immediately what type of drink he was talking about. The serum of truth wasn’t something your department would normally use. They carried out regular interrogations by just talking to suspects and, if it was really necessary, they would call you to read their minds. But this interrogation wasn’t going anywhere even with you there, and neither you nor Seungcheol was getting paid extra hours.

So you came back to the interrogation room after a few minutes, carrying a tray with four glasses of water, making sure to remember which ones had the serum and placing them in front of the two men who were giving you and Seungcheol a headache. They thanked you, and Yuta was the first to drink it absentmindedly while still talking to his friend like two policemen weren’t there waiting for them to finally confess, and then he grimaced. He put his glass down and grabbed Shotaro’s hand when he was about to drink his own. Shotaro gave him a confused look but Yuta turned his attention to you.

“What a naughty girl, officer,” he purred, licking his lips. “Making regular citizens drink the serum of truth.”

“It’s legal in this state,” Seungcheol answered quickly, making Yuta’s attention turn to him instead.

“Not without consent,” Yuta scoffed. “You tricked us into drinking it.”

“We didn’t,” you said. “The glass simply was on the table and you took it by choice. We didn’t say a word to you.”

Yuta’s eyes were on you again, and his lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “God, I love a smart woman,” he said. “You’re so fucking attractive.”

“Watch it,” Seungcheol hissed in a protective manner, while you tried your best to remain unaffected in spite of your ears and cheeks turning hot.

“I thought you wanted me to be honest,” Yuta challenged. “Well, I have no choice now, so ask me anything.”

You cleared your throat and tried to start the interrogation again. “Did you–”

“I imprinted on you,” Yuta stated before you had the chance to finish the question. Next to him, Shotaro sighed tiredly and rested his forehead on the table. The situation kept getting worse, and the chances of him not sleeping in a cell tonight were slim.

“W-wha– That’s not what I was gonna….” you stuttered, confused. You scanned the documents in your hands again, just to see that the photocopy of this man’s ID indeed stated that he was a werewolf. “What?” you repeated dumbly.

“I said I imprinted on you. My human side wants to date the fuck out of you. My wolf wants to mate with you. Should I go into detail –?”

“No!” you exclaimed, not able to hide your nervousness anymore. “I…I know what imprinting means,” you mumbled.

“Well, shit…” Seungcheol murmured next to you. “Y/N,” he called your name softly and then corrected himself when he saw Yuta’s eyes sparkle at the discovery of your first name. “I mean, officer L/N, you don’t have to continue with this interrogation. I’ll take care of it, just go home.”

Don’t go, Yuta’s pleading voice said. He hadn’t spoken. It was his thoughts resonating in the back of your head. 

You looked at him, and he seemed to be breathing heavily compared to before. His intense eyes were still glued to you, but now they were as red and shiny as a ruby.

Shotaro’s whole body suddenly tensed and he lifted his head to stare at Yuta cautiously. 

And then someone knocked on the door and entered the room, interrupting the tense moment. 

“We caught the culprits,” one of your colleagues said. “We found the missing car too, so these two are free to go,” he added, pointing at the wolves.

Shotaro’s soul seemed to come back to his body and he quickly addressed his pack brother. “You hear that? We’ll be home soon! Hold it just for a bit longer!”

Yuta grunted but nodded. He had been through his rut plenty of times before and he was usually very good at controlling it, but it was really fucking hard when you were right in front of him.

“Is he in rut?!” Seungcheol asked incredulously. “You should have said something sooner!” he exclaimed, standing up and walking around the table to uncuff them. But when he stood next to Yuta and saw the way he was eyeing you like he was ready to pounce on you, he hesitated. “Officer Lee, please take Officer L/N home immediately. Make sure she’s safe,” he instructed. 

The other officer nodded quickly and waited for you to follow him, but you didn’t move from your seat.

 You were looking back into Yuta’s eyes in a daze. You didn’t want to leave. It was like he was luring you in with all the romantic and dirty promises he was making to you in his head. You could hear every thought he was having right now, every little fantasy; and you were the protagonist of all of them.

“Officer L/N!” Seungcheol’s voice brought you back to reality. “Go.”

You let out a heavy sigh and stood up quickly, trying to block Yuta’s thoughts from entering your head. 

Yuta’s eyes followed you as you left the room and then he grunted, scrunching his eyes closed. 

Seungcheol, who had just finished uncuffing Shotaro, waited until he heard the car start and drive away before he freed Yuta too. 

“You have outstanding self-control,” the officer praised the wolf, who was panting on the chair, burying his claws on the wooden table. “I know you could have broken those handcuffs easily if you wanted to… Oh, and  I apologize for the misunderstanding.”

“If you’re really sorry, tell me Y/N’s work schedule,” Yuta grunted in pain, allowing Shotaro to help him get up from the chair. 

“I can’t do that,” Seungcheol said, giving him a sympathetic smile. Yuta seemed like a decent guy, but that didn’t mean he was entitled to have you. “But I can at least give you guys a ride home, let’s go.”

When you got home, you felt incredibly drained. Mind reading was an activity that often took a lot of your strength, but also Yuta’s thoughts had been so intense, he made you weak on the knees.

So your name is Y/N? That’s lovely, just like you.

I want you to be the first thing I see every morning.

Make you breakfast in bed, you won’t have to lift a finger.

Make love to you until you see stars—

You shuddered. You had found him attractive the moment your eyes landed on him, but your expectations for a partner were…different. You were hoping to end up with a simple office worker who had a stable routine and live a calm life together. And Yuta, with his leather jacket, talking back to the police and being half animal was far from what you wanted to attract.

There was no way you would accept his “confession”… but your heart skipped a beat as you thought of him and your groin pulsated when you remembered his unsolicited dirty thoughts invading your head.

I would let you step all over me.

Use me however you want.

“Fuck,” you sighed and plopped down on your bed. 

But then it will be my turn.

And I can go all night, officer…

Unconsciously, your hand made its way down your stomach and into your panties. You were soaking.

You knew you shouldn’t.

I could make you feel so fucking good…

But maybe just a little wouldn’t hurt, right? Plus, it’s not like anyone would ever know, and you were so hot and bothered, and his voice wouldn’t leave your head. Just once. Just once and then you would never think about him again, you told yourself, sighing in relief and arching your back.

“Why are the police outside our house?” Ten asked, looking out the window.

“Don’t look at me,” Chenle shrugged, not even bothering to pause the videogame he was playing with Jisung.

“Oh, I wasn’t looking at you,” Ten assured him, crossing his arms and glaring at Haechan.

“Wha-?” Haechan almost choked on the cereal he was munching straight out of the box. “Why me?! I didn’t do anything!”

“It wouldn’t be the first time. You called the police for absolutely no reason last month.”

“No reason?” Haechan gasped. “No reason?! Renjun was trying to kill me!”

“Please, I barely touched you,” Renjun rolled his eyes at him.

“Did you say the police?!” Yangyang suddenly ran into the living room, pale and distressed. 

“...Yangyang, what did you do?!” Ten asked in panic as he heard knocking on the door.

“NOTHING!” Yangyang yelled, eyes darting quickly from the main door to his room. “Hyung, please don’t open the door just yet. I need 5 minutes–no, 3 minutes–”

“Good evening, officer. Can I help you?” Taeil greeted a stoic-looking policeman at the door. He had dismissed the entire conversation and made his way to the door to open it, tired of the insistent knocking. 

“Good evening, I was wondering if–,” The officer spoke only to be interrupted by an agitated young wolf.

“THEY ARE JUST PLANTS!” Yangyang defended himself from the inexistent accusation, causing all eyes to land on him.

Officer Seungcheol Choi glared at him in silence, before deciding that he really did not care what the hell he was talking about. His shift had finished hours ago and he was not getting paid enough for the headache he had right now. “I was wondering if Yuta Nakamoto and Shotaro Osaki live here.”

“Yes,” Taeil replied quickly. “W-why? Did something happen to them?”

“They are both fine,” Seungcheol said. “One of them entered his rut at the police station so I brought them here,” he said, pointing at the car where Shotaro was opening the door, allowing them to see Yuta lying on his side in the back seat.

“Shit,” Taeil murmured, rushing towards the car, followed by Ten. 

The other members who were in the living room quickly gathered at the door to see what was going on while Seungcheol helped Shotaro get Yuta out of the car and into Ten and Taeil’s arms.

Yuta laughed weakly. “Why would the weakest members come to my rescue?”

“You’re in no position to complain,” Ten chided, circling Yuta’s waist with his arm. 

“The big, strong ones are all out, so it’s either us or the kids,” Taeil added, ignoring the complaints from the youngest members yelling they were not kids. 

They thanked the policeman and dragged Yuta into the house, managing to make him drink some water before giving him some privacy.

“That’s weird,” Renjun hummed when he came back to the living room after giving Yuta some suppressants. “Yuta hyung is usually very careful when it comes to his cycle. He always makes sure he’s home before his rut hits.”

“Unless…” Ten’s lips morphed into a teasing smile. “Someone triggered it.”

“No way!” Taeil raised his eyebrows and let out a little laugh of disbelief. “Did he find…?”

Shotaro, who was lying down on the sofa, looked at them with tired eyes and nodded. 

“He imprinted?!” Renjun asked. “It’s happening so fast…Everyone’s finding their mate…”

“Don’t be sad, Renjunie,” Haechan cooed, hugging him.

“I’m not–,” he responded, trying to push him away.

“You’ll find yourself a kinky bad bitch who puts you in your place—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Renjun snapped at Haechan, slapping his back hard several times until he whined and apologized. 

“What is she like?” Chenle asked absentmindedly while resuming his videogame with Jisung.

“I don’t know much about her but she works for the police,” Shotaro replied vaguely.

“Okay. Hot,” Ten approved. 

“I fail to see how that’s hot,” Renjun refuted.

“Uh, hello? The uniform? The cuffs?” Ten explained very slowly like he was talking to an idiot and Taeil laughed, shaking his head from side to side.

“You hear that, Jisungie?” Haechan teased the youngest, who was trying very hard to pretend he didn’t hear him. “Handcuffs, like the ones I gifted you. Have you tried them on your mate yet?”

Jisung froze and his character on screen died right in that moment. Chenle laughed blatantly and celebrated his victory, giving Haechan a high five while Jisung quickly excused himself to go to the bathroom. 

Renjun frowned. “You know, one day Jisung will finally notice he’s grown to be taller and stronger than you and he’ll kick your ass. And I’ll enjoy it very much.”

“Just say you like my ass and go,” Haechan winked and quickly ran away, with Renjun chasing after him with murderous intent. 

“Why were you at the police station anyways?” Taeil continued the conversation like nothing happened.

“They mistook us for someone else. Thought we stole a car or something,” Shotaro mumbled, pouting cutely. “And then Yuta hyung’s brain malfunctioned when he saw his mate and tried to confess to a crime he didn’t commit just to buy time with her.”

Chenle, Taeil, and Ten burst out laughing. They would make sure to tease Yuta about that later since he always prided himself on being cool and collected.

He was not cool and collected at all in his room, fucking into his fist and biting his lip. All he could think about was fucking the rut out of his system so he could go out and see you again. And then fuck you. He was sure you would feel way better than his hand; tight and hot around him as your tits bounced each time he thrusts inside you. He didn’t even need to picture you naked; he was more than okay with unbuttoning your blouse and riling your skirt up, taking you while still wearing your uniform and not caring if the entire police station saw. If you blushed just like you did when he confessed he imprinted on you, you would look so fucking cute. And if only you said his name a bit louder… He wasn’t a fan of people calling him by his last name, but the way you had called him ‘Mr. Nakamoto’...

“FUCK!” he grunted, cumming so hard that some drops landed on his face. His body finally relaxed on the messy bed sheets and he let out a breathy laugh. He was mostly laughing at himself; he had never been so desperate to cum before and it had been so intense he was sure he stopped breathing for almost an entire minute. If he felt like this just to the thought of you, then he knew actually touching you would be the end of him. 

It was 4 days later that you saw Yuta Nakamoto again. He was casually leaning against the wall outside the police station like he owned the place.

“Hi, beautiful,” he called for you, smiling happily and approaching you.

“It’s Officer L/N to you,” you hissed, but couldn’t hide the blush on your ears at the memory of what you had done alone in the darkness while thinking of him.

“Officer L/N,” he corrected himself, biting back a smirk like he found the whole situation very amusing. “I wanted to see you.”

“I’m working,” you said. “Unless you have an emergency that the police can help with, you shouldn’t be here.”

Instead of sulking, he smiled.

So if I make an emergency happen I can come here?

“Don’t!” you yelled too quickly when you heard his thoughts.

His smirk grew wider.

I knew it. You can read minds.

It wasn’t a question but a statement. You froze. Your ability was precious to the police so you were instructed to keep it a secret. As for your personal life, many friends got awkward around you when they found out you could read their minds in the past, so you had learned to control your expressions and behavior so people couldn’t even suspect you knew what was going on in their heads. People didn’t like having someone in their heads. It was invasive, embarrassing,...

“Perfect,” Yuta said out loud this time. “That will make things easier.”

But Yuta didn’t seem to mind it.

“W-what?” you stuttered.

“You’ll know I mean everything I say.”

“...So what?”

“So you can trust me.”

“Trust you?” you scoffed and started walking away, but he quickly followed your steps and walked next to you.

“Can’t build a relationship without trust, can you?” he said casually. 

“There’s no relationship between us.” 

“Yet.”

“Listen,” you stopped right before the gate and turned to look at him. “You’re not my type.”

“Too bad. You’re totally my type,” he countered. 

“Sounds like a you problem,” you said between gritted teeth. 

Yuta laughed and the sound was endearing. “I’m afraid it’s very much your problem too.”

You gulped. “Meaning…?”

“I’m a man who knows what he wants,” he said staring at your lips.

And I don’t stop until I get it.

You glared at him, hoping he didn’t see the way your body shivered.

You know what I want right now?

You didn’t even need to read his mind to know the answer. The way he was staring at your lips and closing the distance between you told you all you needed to know.

“Officer L/N,” Seungcheol’s voice called for you. “All good over here?”

Thank god. Seungcheol had arrived to start his shift as well.

“All good,” you grumbled as Seungcheol stood in between you two, facing Yuta.

“How are you doing? Is your rut over?” Seungcheol asked.

Yuta nodded, his eyes still finding you behind your colleague’s figure. “Yeah, I’m fine now.”

“That’s good,” Seungcheul replied politely. “It was nice to see you but I can’t let you past this gate unless you have an emergency to report.”

“Right…” Yuta sighed. 

Gotta cause some trouble first then, huh?

You glared at him over Seungcheol’s shoulder and shook your head. Even if Yuta couldn’t read minds he knew you didn’t want him to do that.

Unless you let me see you after your shift…

You rolled your eyes and got ready to walk away.

Got it. It’s been a while since the last time I broke into private property. I’ll see you after–

“My shift finishes at 8,” you blurted out suddenly. Or at least for Seungcheol, it was sudden; he had no idea about the mental conversation you had just had with Yuta. 

“Great,” Yuta chuckled. “I’ll pick you up then,” he declared, before waving both of you goodbye.

“Uh…” Seungcheol hesitated as you two entered the police station. “Are you two…?

“No,” you said firmly. “I’ll just meet him once and tell him I’m not interested.”

“...You’re not interested?”

“Of course not!” you exclaimed and got irritated when Seungcheol just stared at you blankly. “He’s definitely not what I look for in a man.”

“You could have just told him that earlier.”

“I did! He’s just so stubborn–”

“So instead you agreed to go on a date with him?” Seungcheol scoffed, mocking you. “Sure, not interested at all…”

“It is not a date.”

“Mhm…”

“Seungcheol!”

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” he winked at you, before going into his office.

Time went by incredibly fast during your shift and you became more anxious as the clock got close to announcing 8PM. You collected your stuff slowly, kind of hoping if you took long enough Yuta would get bored and leave (if he even was out there waiting), but when you dragged your feet to the main gate you were met with his easygoing expression, like you hadn’t made him wait for almost half an hour. 

“Tough day, officer?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, as you can tell I’m a busy person. Just go ahead and say what you have to say.”

“Sure,” Yuta said offering you a…helmet? “We should get going then.”

It was then that you noticed that this time, instead of the wall, he was leaning against a motorcycle. You looked at the helmet in your hands and then at Yuta who was swiftly getting on the motorcycle and patting the seat behind him, indicating for you to follow. 

“Absolutely not,” you deadpanned.

“I thought you were in a hurry,” Yuta feigned confusion.

“Let’s just talk here.”

“Oh, alright, if you don’t mind your coworkers hearing that you triggered my rut and I spent days thinking about–”

 You shrieked and quickly covered his mouth with your palms.

—you. I spent all these days thinking about you, and I know you’ve thought about me too.

 You blushed and looked around. Some of your coworkers were leaving and waved at you in a friendly manner. You waved back. This was not something you wanted them to hear. So you put on the damn helmet and sat behind Yuta, trying to keep some distance between your bodies.

“You need to hold onto me,” Yuta said when he noticed your hands barely holding onto the edge of the seat behind you.

“You wish,” you spat back.

“I do,” he agreed. “But also, you’ll fly off otherwise. I don’t want you injured on our first date.”

“This is not a date—” you wanted to argue with him but as soon as you heard him starting the engine you panicked and your arms surrounded his torso automatically. 

Yuta’s body tensed when he felt your body so close to his and then he released a long breath.

So warm…

You barely hear his thoughts over the sound of the motorcycle, but you were thinking the exact same thing: he was so warm. You gripped his clothes tightly as the vehicle started moving.

Just like that. Don’t let go.

You tried to let the wind hitting the helmet drown the sound of his thoughts but they were so loud, by the time you arrived at your destination you were dizzy, a blushing mess and your heart was beating hard and fast against his back.

“Officer L/N?” you heard him call your name. “We’re here. You can let go now.”

…Or don’t. I don’t mind staying like this.

Immediately, you pulled away from him and jumped out of the bike, your hands flying to fix your skirt which had ridden up your thighs, ignoring Yuta’s charming (annoying) laugh. 

“What is this place?” you asked, looking around. 

There was no one around besides Yuta and you. All you saw was the road, the forest and… a view of the whole city. You gasped out loud; even if it was a small city, with no big skyscrapers, the city lights still shone like a kaleidoscope contrasting the dark sky. You had asked to be transferred to work and live in a small town, away from all the noise and stress that the capital city had made you deal with. Since you moved to this town, you were glad that crime was low, people (humans, and non-human creatures alike) were mostly kind and you had a calm life…but you hadn’t paid proper attention to the beauty this city had to offer. 

Speechless you turned around to look at Yuta, whose dark eyes were reflecting the city view. But he was looking at you, leaning forward while still sitting on his bike, his head resting on his arms lazily.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. 

And that was exactly what you were thinking about him. But you wouldn’t say it out loud. 

“I asked you where we are,” you said firmly.

“My favorite place,” the werewolf said as he reached for the rear suitcase and unpacked whatever he had brought with him. “Cool view, huh?”

“Why did you bring me here?” you asked him in an irritated tone, not wanting to admit that the view was the most beautiful thing you had seen in a while.

“To spend time with you,” he replied as if it was obvious, as he laid down a blanket on the grass and placed several food containers on it.

“Is this…a picnic?”

“Yes.”

 That was surprisingly…sweet. Not something you would expect from the werewolf in the leather jacket who rides a motorcycle around town. You kind of hoped your future partner would take you on cute little dates like this one. But Yuta was not in those plans.

“Nakamoto.”

“Hm?” he looked up at you, giving you his full attention. Your heart beat a bit faster when your eyes met but you had to stand your ground.

“I’m not going to date you.”

He narrowed his eyes, a glint of amusement in them. Then he hummed and went back to arranging the food. “You already are.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know I’m interested in you, yet you let me pick you up from work and take you for a ride at night. Now we are alone in a place that looks like a movie scene, about to eat food I made for you. Tell me that’s not a date.”

Well it did sound like a date when he said it like that, but you never agreed to that. “I’m going back.”

“Oh, yeah? You gonna walk all the way back to town in those heels?” he challenged you. “There are no other cars around the area, and phone reception sucks up here.”

 You looked at your phone and confirmed that you wouldn’t be able to get in touch with anyone. The place looked deserted too. “You’re a psychopath.”

Yuta laughed out loud. This was the loudest and most cheerful you had heard him laugh before and it was quite cute how he threw his head back and his mouth opened wide, displaying his perfect smile without trying to look elegant at all. His laugh sounded so pure.

“I haven’t heard that one before,” he admitted when he calmed down, still giggling a little. “I didn’t plan to trap you here. I just wanted to take you somewhere nice and get to know you better, and I thought you might be hungry so I prepared something to eat. That’s all.”

As if waiting for the sign, your stomach growled loudly. How embarrassing. 

“When was the last time you ate?” Yuta asked, a hint of concern noticeable in his voice.

“Uh, not sure…” you admitted. “Our shifts are a bit unpredictable sometimes.”

Yuta sighed. “Just eat with me? I’ll take you back right after. I promise. You can read my mind if you want.”

You rolled your eyes but let out a tired laugh. You didn’t even need to read the mind of someone who was such an open book. You finally sat down in front of him and looked at the food in front of you. “So, what do we have here?”

The Japanese straightened his back and started presenting you with a variety of food. “So, some of these may have gone a bit cold by now but we have here some yakisoba, this is sushi that should be eaten at room temperature so this is a perfect time… or if you are a vegetarian, you can try vegetable fried rice…or if you’re not into any of this stuff I prepared some sandwiches,” he rambled, looking a bit nervous for the first time since you met him.

“Did you make all this yourself?” you asked him. 

“Yeah,” Yuta bit his lip nervously. “I’m not a chef but it should be edible.”

“You could have just bought some snacks.”

“I guess I could have but… I know that when people work a lot they end up eating just whatever and I wanted you to have a proper home-cooked meal…”

Another surprisingly sweet gesture from Yuta Nakamoto. It was so thoughtful and it probably took him hours in the kitchen. For you. Well, you were starving so why not give it a try?

 You reached for the utensils he had placed in front of you and tried food from the container closest to you, under his expecting eyes.

It was delicious. If he wasn’t a chef then he should consider becoming one.

“...Not bad,” you commented like it wasn’t the best meal you’d had in months. 

Yuta bit back a smile and started eating too. He didn’t miss the way your eyes sparkled and you almost sighed when trying his food, so he was incredibly proud of himself. 

The more you ate the more you let your guard down, allowing Yuta to ask you simple questions about your hobbies, life, and general preferences. He also answered any question you had for him quite openly. 

He kept his promise and took you home after. He didn’t try anything on you, but he did show up every Friday evening to pick you up from your shift. No matter how annoyed you were or pretended to be, each time you showed less resistance to getting on the bike, and you had stopped making plans for Friday night, knowing he would be waiting for you. Not that you would tell anyone this, but you were counting the minutes for your shift to end to see him again.

You enjoyed your time together until it was time to address the elephant in the room.

“This was fun…” you trailed off.

“But?” Yuta asked, knowing you were about to find an excuse.

“I have…plans, you know?” you sighed. “A reckless werewolf I met in the interrogation room imprinting on me is not part of my plans at all.”

“In my defense, I wasn’t supposed to be interrogated in the first place,” he said. “But I’m glad it happened.”

You sighed again. “You can’t give me what I want.”

“How do you know that?” he murmured. He was looking at you, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes, looking at the city view instead.

“I want calm. I want domestic,” you replied, frustrated and a bit tired.

“But you also want me,” he said.

“Nakamoto…”

“Can we stop calling each other by our last names?” he was starting to sound frustrated too.  “We’re not strangers, Y/N.” 

 He was right. That was just your childish way of keeping some distance between you two. 

“...Can you drop me home now?” you finally asked, not wanting to continue this conversation. 

 Yuta glared at you. 

Won’t you even look at me?

You didn’t. 

He scoffed.

As you wish.

The ride back was silent. You tried to get into his head and hear whatever he was thinking about, but he was thinking in his native language, blocking you indirectly. Since you met, he had tried to think in a language you would understand, giving you complete access to his head and heart, but you had hurt him. You didn’t get to read his thoughts if you weren’t capable of opening yourself up to him in return. 

“Thank you,” you grumbled when you arrived at your destination, giving him the helmet back.

“You’re welcome,”  he said dryly. 

“You don’t have to pick me up from work next week,” you added.

“Gotcha,” he simply said, like he didn’t care. It angered you, but it was what you wanted, wasn’t it? So you didn’t say anything else and watched him leave. For the first time, he didn’t wait until you got into your house.

Did you regret it as soon as you reached your bed? Yes. Your chest felt tight and your eyes stung like you wanted to cry. 

Would you do something to fix it? No. Because you were a coward, afraid of such an unconventional man, no matter how kind and lovely he was, approaching you and telling you he wanted to stay with you for life.

And he indeed didn’t pick you up the next week. When you finished your shift and left the station, no one was waiting there for you. Why would there be? You had told the poor guy to leave you alone, and he did. Perfect.

Just perfect.

But for some reason, you still cried yourself to sleep that night and woke up in the morning to a call from Seungcheol. 

“Hello?” you groaned, rubbing your eyes sleepily. 

“Hey, Y/N, no time for small talk,” Seungcheol said from the other side of the line. “I know you don’t work today but I really really think you should come.”

“W-why? What’s wrong?” you asked, very confused, but all these years of work had your body getting out of bed and getting ready automatically.

“Don’t panic,” he said now in a more calming tone. “What matter’s that no one got hurt–”

“What happened?!”

“Just come to my office!” he said before he hung up the phone.

You basically run to work, your feet hurting on your heels, your uniform all wrinkled, and your hair a mess, not even bothering to tie it up and look appropriate. You nervously greeted your coworkers and went straight into Seungcheol’s office.

“Seungcheol–”

“Finally!” he sighed, letting you in and locking the door behind him. “It’s gonna be okay, nobody else knows–”

“Know what?! Can you please give me some context?” you hissed nervously.

Seungcheol inhaled. “Do you know where your boyfriend was last night?”

“My what?!”

“Your boyfriend?” he repeated, now sounding as confused as you.  “The Japanese one?”

“He’s not my boyfriend–”

“What do you mean? You guys have been dating for— it doesn’t matter. Just take a look at this,” he said, pointing at his laptop screen.

You got closer to his desk and watched the screen where security footage of some type of store was playing. You were about to ask what all this was about when you saw a familiar face entering the store and going through the product shelves urgently. 

“Yuta…” you whispered. 

In the video, the man opened a few jars, straight up drank the content of some of them, and emptied others in a bottle he was carrying. After a few minutes, he made a pained expression and bent down on the floor before he passed out. 

 You were holding your breath, your own body hurting at seeing him like that. Seungcheol skipped some parts of the video until someone who worked in the store discovered Yuta, who stood up and left, looking disoriented. 

“This is the apothecary near the beach,” Seungcheol said. “The store owner won’t present charges because he didn’t actually steal. Apparently, he left cash on the counter for the stuff he took. The door wasn’t damaged either. It’s like he has experience breaking in.”

“W-why did he…. Oh, god,” you sighed. 

“I checked his house. His pack hasn’t seen him since yesterday,” Seungcheol continued. “Any idea where he could be?”

“No…wait! Maybe—... I’m not sure,” you answered vaguely. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” Seungcheol asked.

“No,” you said more firmly this time. “I think I’ll be fine by myself.”

“Okay,” Seungcheol agreed, passing you the patrol car keys. He could tell that something had happened between the two of you and that he should let you solve things by yourself. “But let me know of any updates. If you can’t find him by the end of the day his pack will file a missing report.”

“I’ll find him,” you assured him. He had to be at that place. The place where you had most of your dates. So that’s where you went.

And there he was, sitting on the grass and looking at the sunset over the city, in the same place where you had the most fun and heart whelming moments the last couple of months. You managed to send one last message to Seungcheol letting him know you had found Yuta before your phone service abandoned you.

 Yuta looked at you getting off the car over his shoulder and went back to look into the sunset.

“Good evening, Officer L/N,” he said sarcastically. 

You grimaced. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

You sighed and sat down next to him. He didn’t spare you a glance, just reached for his  thermos bottle and filled his cup with tea.

“What happened yesterday?” you asked.

“Many things…”

“Okay…,” you nodded. “Why did you break into the apothecary?” 

“I was in pain,” he said, grabbing another little cup from beside him and filling it with tea before offering it to you. 

“What type of pain?” You accepted the cup, glad that he was somehow communicating with you. “Are you sick?”

“No, not sick,” he said raising his cup towards yours as if there was anything to cheer to.

“Then why were you in pain?” You clinked your cup with his and drank the tea, shuddering at the contrast between the warm beverage and the cool breeze caressing your face.

“My wolf was acting up…” he murmured, refilling both your cups. “I think he got used to seeing you every Friday and when it became late at night and didn’t have you near, he thought that starting an early rut would make me go find you,” he laughed bitterly and drank some more. “I really wanted to see you, but you told me not to, so I went to buy something for the pain instead but it was closed. It really fucking hurt so I entered anyways…Well, let me finish my tea before you arrest me.”

“You’re not under arrest. The owner won’t present charges,” you said. “I was just worried about you.”

“Why?” he asked, looking at you drink your second cup of tea.

“Because I care about you,” you admitted almost too easily. 

“Then why do you push me away?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m kinda scared,” you said. “This whole imprinting thing…I didn’t see it coming.”

“That’s valid,” he sighed. “Did you at least enjoy hanging out with me?”

“It was the highlight of my week,” you giggled. “I loved it.”

“I’m glad,” he murmured before he winced in pain.

“What’s wrong?” you asked worriedly, placing a hand on his back. You could feel the heat radiating through his shirt.

“Told you,” he groaned. “Early rut.”

“You–...you’re in rut right now?!”

“Were you not listening earlier?” he laughed half-heartedly.

“I was! I just didn’t— fuck, okay, let’s take you home,” you said urgently, pulling his arm and making him stand up.

He let you guide him to the car and get him in the back seat without resistance. He focused on your face instead, like you were fascinating to look at and he had all the time in the world (which wasn’t the case; you had to get him back to town as soon as possible).

 “Where are we going?” He asked tiredly as he let you lay him down.

“The hospital,” you said firmly. “Or wherever you can take care of your… uh, state,” you pointed at his body vaguely and then you gulped. 

Did he really need to look this good in such a critical moment? Leaning on his forearms, with his legs slightly spread, his messy hair sticking to his forehead and nape, and his lidded eyes scanning your body. 

“I like your hair today,” he casually said.

You clicked your tongue.“I didn’t have much time to get ready.”

“You look so hot. I want you so bad…”

You stopped trying to push his feet in the car and looked up to meet his reddened eyes. 

Come here.

“I-...I have to drive,” you stuttered, trying to push him back when he leaned toward you. 

 He grabbed your arm before you could make your way to the driver's seat. 

“We’re not gonna make it,” he simply mumbled. “It’s a long way to town…I won’t be able to resist you.”

“Then don’t,” you said simply and then you gasped, your hand flying to cover your mouth. Did you really just say that?

“Is that so?” Yuta purred while his fingers caressed your arm. “Officer L/N wants me to fuck her?”

You rolled your eyes, ready to tell him that you were not interested but instead what exited your mouth was: “Of course I do– shit!”

Now you covered your mouth with both hands. What the hell? What were you saying?

You looked at Yuta with wide eyes, but he didn’t seem surprised; if anything he looked smug. 

Wait…

The tea.

“Did you put something in the tea?” you asked him angrily.

“Serum of truth,” he said shamelessly, pulling your body closer to his firmly so now you were in the car too, lying on top of him, your hands resting on the door behind his head.

“W-what?!” you shrieked. So that’s why you were saying everything you felt out loud. “Where did you get it? It’s not available in any store–”

“I made it myself,” he said, as his hands caressed your face. “Last night in the apothecary.”

“Y-you!” now you were furious. “Regular citizens can’t administrate the serum of truth. Ever!”

“What are you gonna do about it, hmm?” he cooed. “Call the police?”

“Uugh,” you groaned. You hated the guy. Except you didn’t. 

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting me, officer,” Yuta assured you. “I want you too. I have had the best orgasms since I started thinking about you when touching myself.”

“Shut up!” you yelped, now covering his mouth with your hands.

Thought about fucking you in this skirt. 

Giving it to you so hard you would drop the fucking attitude.

“Oh my god,” you whined.

Have you thought about me too? You looked away. Embarrassed. 

I bet you have. I could smell how wet you were the day we met.

…Shit I can smell it now too.

“Nakamoto,” you warned him but it sounded like a plea.

He hummed against your hands, deciding there was no reason for him not to use his hands on you too. He grabbed the back of your thighs and pulled them to have you sitting on his crotch in a swift motion. You gasped as your skirt rode up and you could feel his hard member pulsating against you in spite of the remaining layers of clothing between you.

Did it feel good? 

Touching yourself with these beautiful hands, imagining it was me?

He kissed your palms and fingers lovingly like he was praising them for a job well done.

“S-so good…” you admitted in a tiny voice.

Yuta groaned, sending vibrations to your hands and then biting your finger playfully, finally making you release his mouth with a yelp.

“That should have been me touching you,” he grumbled, grabbing your hips and pressing you against his hard. “Why play hard to get if you were getting off to me anyways? So you kept going on dates with me, telling me you weren’t into me every time, just to go home and fuck yourself with these tiny fingers?”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him an answer and also because you were sure any sound escaping your mouth right now would be embarrassingly pathetic with the way his clothed crotch was rubbing against yours. 

When you kept looking away he grabbed your face with his hand and made you face him. “Who do you think of when you fuck yourself?” he growled. 

He seemed to think you were taking a little too long to reply because his other hand landed on your ass cheek loud and hard. You gasped and your hands grabbed onto his wrinkled shirt.

 “I asked you a question,” he insisted when you only gasped and hissed instead of offering a proper answer.

“Answer me,” he breathed against your lips, his tone low and demanding, slapping your ass even harder twice. “Who were you thinking about?”

“Y-you!” you finally yelped. “I imagined it w-was you… every time…”

And with that,  Yuta’s lips were immediately on yours, kissing you softly but firmly, letting out little pained whines. He honestly had no idea how he spent months seeing you without doing this before. It was like the tension was finally leaving his body.

You kissed him back nervously. You still couldn’t quite comprehend that you were finally giving in and allowing your body and heart to do what they really wanted. Then you felt the same hands that had slapped you gently massaging the mistreated area.

We’re done playing games. You’re mine now.

You moaned and he nipped at your bottom lip and slid his tongue into your mouth, licking and sucking eagerly and making it hard to keep up with him. 

You want that? Want me to make you mine?

“Y-yeah,” you barely breathed out as he kissed your jaw. And damn, the stupid serum was still making you admit to the most embarrassing things. “But–”

But you want calm and domestic.

He fixated on your neck, biting and licking. 

And you think I can’t give you that?

“N-nakamoto…”

If you like my last name that much you can have it.

What do you say? I really like the sound of Y/N Nakamoto.

“Fuck…,” you sighed. He seemed to have found his favorite spot on your neck, sucking like he couldn’t get enough.

Say it. Say you want to be mine.

 You finally gave in. “P-please…–Ah!” 

And then you felt a sharp sting on the same spot he had been sucking on. He moaned as his fangs pierced your skin, one of his hands holding you by your nape while his other arm circled your waist. Your neck started tingling;  a funny sensation that soon spread until reaching your toes and making them curl. 

“Taste so good,” he whispered against your neck. 

You whined, gripping his clothes desperately, to the point he could probably feel your nails digging into his skin through the fabric. Your body was tickling all over like you were being caressed with feathers and it felt frustrating. You needed something, but you didn’t know what. Your body seemed to have a clear idea though, your hips moving slowly against Yuta’s. 

 He let go of your neck, kissing your lips sweetly before looking down where your bodies were moving in synch. He let out a heavy sigh and placed his hands on your ass, helping you move.

“It’s– It’s not…” you mumbled, letting out a frustrated whimper.

“Hmm?” he asked, unable to look away from the tent in his pants digging into your wet underwear, having pulled your skirt to your waist. 

“It’s n-not enough,” you finally said.

“Agreed,” he grumbled. His hands flew toward his jeans, unbuttoning them and lowering the zipper clumsily. 

 Your lust-driven brain made it hard for you to think clearly, but you understood what was important: those jeans needed to go. So you lifted your lower body to give him some space to undress himself, but he growled. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” he asked, pulling his pants and boxers down hastily, just enough to free his reddened cock. His thighs would probably hurt with the way the fabric would cut the circulation but he couldn’t care less right now. He wanted your warmth back on him. “Get back here.”

 “Wanna take these off…” you trailed off as you pointed at your panties, trying to untangle yourself from him in such a small space.

“Later,” he breathed out, bringing your body closer to his again. “Can’t wait.”

He pulled your panties to the side and positioned your hips right over his until your pussy was pressed against his member resting on his lower abdomen. 

“O-oh god,” you whined, as the head of his cock rubbed against your clit. “It’s so warm…”

“So wet,” he groaned at the same time. His shaky hands caressed your waist as you started moving experimentally, gliding against his cock. He let out a choked moan. “F-fuck!” 

He reached for your shirt and unbuttoned it hurriedly, lowering it down your shoulders and pulling your bra down as you continued moving back and forward. He sighed at the sight of your uncovered breasts, and let the tip of his tongue tease one of your nipples.

I’ve been wanting to taste these tits for so long.

The same nipple got engulfed in the warmth of his mouth as he sucked hard.

“Ah— Haa….” you moaned, arching your back.

Faster.

You obeyed, grinding harder and faster, feeling your climax building up as a knot in your stomach. “I’m close….Oh!”

He hummed but his mouth was too occupied toying with your breasts to speak. Luckily he didn’t need to speak out loud for you to hear him.

Me too, beautiful. 

Your taste’s driving me fucking crazy.

Can’t wait to taste all of you…

You gasped and a shiver ran up your spine.  “O-oh fuck…”

May I?

Can I eat your pussy?

Your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open, your movements turning desperate as you pressed your clit against the head of his cock.

Tell me I can, beautiful.

His tone was pleading, like he didn’t know you would say yes to anything he asked. 

Yeah? Can I?

Opening his eyes to look up at your face, he stuck the tip of his tongue out and flicked your hardened nipple quickly, no doubt imitating the way he would toy with your clit. All you had to do was say…

“YES! Yes, y-yes, fuck! Yuta, yes!” you screamed. Your body convulsed on top of his, covering his dick with your release.

He finally let go of your sore nipples, looking at your orgasmic expression in awe. 

Suddenly he grabbed your hips and started thrusting up rapidly.

“S-shit, Y/N…,” he gulped. “Feels t-too fucking good I…Ah! I can’t—,” his words were interrupted by a gasp, and then his body tensed as spurts of cum tainted his wrinkled shirt. 

He lay on his back and you collapsed on top of him, both of you panting tiredly.

“...You called me by my name,” Yuta whispered.

You pushed against his pecs to lift yourself a little, looking at his delighted expression. He looked like it was Christmas and he had received the most precious of gifts.

You tried not to smile. “Really? Among all the things that just happened, you’re happy that I said your first name?” 

“Mhmm…it makes me really happy,” he agreed, surrounding you with his arms. “Plus, you didn’t just say my name. You screamed it.”

You cleared your throat, embarrassed. “I should d-drive us back now…” you mumbled, trying to stand up, but before you could even blink you were on your back on the leather seat with Yuta sitting between your legs.

“Not yet,” he said, taking your panties off handily. “Wanna taste you.”

If you were on a proper bed, he would lie down on his stomach easily, but the back seat of the car was too small for that. He knew it wasn’t the most appropriate place for mating, but he just couldn’t wait another 25-30 minutes until you were back in the city. It didn’t matter if the position wasn’t ideal; he had to taste you now. 

“Y-yuta?! Wha—” you yelped when your hips were raised by his strong hands, leaving only your upper back, neck, and head resting on the seat. 

He hovered over you and pulled your hips closer to his face, placing your legs over his shoulders and burying his face between them with no hesitation. 

“FUCK! Yuta– Aaaah!” your hands reached for his head and pulled his hair. “W-wait!”

You said I could.

He hummed, sending vibrations through your body as he made out with your pussy.

“I did but–” your legs kicked the roof of the car as a reflex when he sucked on your clit. “B-but not like t-this…”

Why not?

You’re fucking delicious.

And you’re all mine.

“This p-position is…Oh! It’s too embarrassing…” you whined. Your uniform was wrinkled around your waist, tits and pussy exposed as he bent you in such a scandalous and vulnerable way. 

Don’t be embarrassed.

Never with me.

You’re perfect.

Yuta’s tongue circled your entrance slowly and your hands went from his hair to your reddened face, trying to cover your flustered expression.

What’s wrong?

The tip of his tongue slid in. You whined.

Doesn’t it feel good?

He went in deeper, rolling his eyes at the way your walls contracted against the wet muscle.

“Ah!” you squirmed, but he held you firmly, fucking you with his tongue.

Tell me, beautiful.

I need to know

He knew damn well it felt good, especially with the way his nose was rubbing your clit. You wished you could be mad at him, but then one of his hands left your hips to look for your breasts, grabbing and massaging.

Do you like it?

“Fuck! I- I love it ah– aaahh!” you moaned and your hands went back to his head when he started licking your clit again.

Me too. 

I fucking love everything about you.

“Yuta, oh g-god…” you panted and your eyes rolled back when his tongue circled your clit.

Wanted to do this for so long.

Since the first time I saw you.

Wanted to eat you out on the table I was handcuffed to at the station. 

Didn’t care if everyone saw.

You just smelled so good I knew you would taste like heaven.

“I’m g-gonna cum—fuck, Yuta I– Ah! Oooh!” your legs started shaking around his head.

Cum for me, beautiful.

You tensed in his arms and the tip of his tongue flicked your clit torturously fast, bringing you to another orgasm. You moaned embarrassingly loud and pushed his head closer to your center, much to his delight. His arms circled your hips and secured you in your place as he drank your release, only letting go when you became a trembling mess. 

“Does your neck hurt?” Yuta’s voice asked, raspier than usual, taking you out of your post-release bliss. 

“It will surely hurt tomorrow,” you complained weakly. 

“Sorry, Y/N. I’ll give you a massage later,” he promised. “I just couldn’t find a better way…”

“Didn’t think of 69ing?” You asked tiredly.

“Oh,” Yuta hesitated for a moment and then laughed. “No, I didn’t think about it. That would have been good too…”

You snorted. His brain really was consumed by his rut. It was better to take him home soon. The sky was already dark so it was probably getting late. “How about we get back now–Yuta!” you gasped when you felt his hardened member gliding against your sensitive pussy lips lazily. 

“Once. Let me knot you just once and we can go,” he answered, pressing his hips against yours. But he used all his remaining self-control to halt his movements and look into your eyes. “Unless you really don’t want this…”

 When you first found out he had given you serum of truth you were angry, but the more you thought about it, the more fair it seemed. You had access to his thoughts all the time. You knew his real feelings and intentions but refused to communicate honestly. He had been at a disadvantage the entire time, being so open about everything but never getting a single word out of you. Now you couldn’t lie to him. And that was fine. You didn’t want to. If anything it felt relieving to say everything you thought finally.

“I want it,” you said. “I want you.”

Yuta gulped. “Yeah? You sure?”

You reached for his shirt and helped him take it off before you lay back on your back. Your hands wandered over his body, caressing his defined chest and abs, and your fingers traced the outline of a butterfly tattoo on his stomach. His eyes were trained in your hands touching all of him, and he didn’t notice when you lifted your hips slightly, pressing your crotch against his aching cock and he let out a shaky moan, his body bending forward and caging you on the seat. 

“I’m sure,” you said, cupping his face and kissing his lips.

 He kissed you back eagerly, licking and nibbling your lips until the burning sensation of his cock entering you made you gasp. He looked into your eyes as he went deeper. When he finally was all the way in his eyebrows furrowed and he hid his face into the crook of your neck, kissing the bite mark he had left earlier. For a moment he wasn’t able to speak, panting heavily and shaking, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was feeling.

Fuck…

So tight…

This is so…

I’ve never felt…

…Y/N.

His thoughts were a mess and all that left his mouth as he thrust into you were soft moans. 

“I’m s-so full…” you whispered, lost in the sensation of Yuta stretching you over and over. 

Your voice seemed to bring enough strength to him to use his voice. “Yeah?” he grunted, pulling out until only the tip remained inside and then ramming into you harshly, rolling his eyes back and basking in your moans. “I’ll keep you full, beautiful.”

Your head was swimming. All you could do was nod and moan in response to his hips speeding up. He felt so hard and hot inside of you. You may have said that out loud. And you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed right now.

“D-don’t stop,” you begged him.

He kisses your lips softly before sitting up, holding your hips in his hands. “Wasn’t planning to…” he sighed and slammed back into you, his movements becoming so forceful that the car was shaking, and anyone who saw it from the outside would know what was happening immediately. 

I’m not gonna last… Fuck.

“Yuta, I’m c-close too…so close,” you whispered. “Just a little bit more.”

 Yuta’s fingers dig into the skin of your hips, fucking you as hard and fast as he can. For a minute you feel him deep inside of you you couldn't breathe and then there was something bigger trying to push in and stretch you even more. “Aaah! AH! YUTA!”

“You’re taking it so well, Y/N,” he said firmly although his voice was a bit shaky. “My knot is almost in.”

“It’s even bigger…,” you mumbled nervously. “Maybe it won’t fit.”

Yuta kissed your lips. And one of his hands found your clit. “It will fit. We are mates. Our bodies are meant to fit perfectly.”

He massaged your clit and kissed you, and once he noticed you were not as tense as before, he pushed his knot inside right in time for the endless spurts of cum that came out of his cock, pressing insistently against your most sensitive area and making you feel even fuller. 

“FUCK! OH, FUCK Y/N! Aaahh… shit oh!” he moaned, never stopping his hips movements.

Yuta’s hand still hadn’t left your clit, determined to get one more orgasm out of you. He used his thumb to rub the sensitive nub in fast circles that soon had you trembling.

“Yuta— Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod…ah…AH! Ooooh fuck, fuck, Aah!!” 

Your body trembled, trapped by the werewolf’s skilled hands as he caressed your hair and kissed your face, giving you the sweetest compliments to help you come back to reality.

Somehow, Yuta managed to be back on his back with you laying on top of him. He kissed your forehead and caressed your body.

Both of you fell into a comfortable silence again. When you heard Yuta let out a breathless laugh you were going to ask him what he was thinking about, but you could hear it very well.

When I said ‘fuck the police’…

I didn’t think I would do it literally.

You hit his arm. “Yuta!”

And in a patrol car of all places hahah

His laugh became contagious and soon both of you were laughing out loud. 

When you both calmed down you spoke again.

“When your knot deflates we’ll go back to the city, okay?”

“Mhmm, thank you for coming for me, Y/N…”

“How did you know I would come?”

“I didn’t… but I hoped you would.”

You hummed and caressed his chest.

“What are you thinking about,” He suddenly asked. It was his turn to be curious.

“Just… about everything. This really wasn’t in my plans, but maybe it’s not a bad idea to change my life plan.”

“You don’t have to change anything,” he said. “You want stability, romanticism, domestic life with your partner… I can give you that.”

“Can you?” you asked hopefully, but not wanting to put too much pressure on him.

“Of course. I am economically and emotionally stable, all the dates I’ve planned for us were romantic because I am a romantic myself, and I imagine a domestic life with you in which we both help out in the house or I become your house-husband while you catch the bad guys. Whichever you prefer.”

You giggled “So the werewolf in the leather jacket has a soft spot.”

He snorted. “Shut up! I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Just wait and see, Officer L/N”

#nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #nakamoto yuta #yuta nct #yuta smut #nakamoto yuta x reader #nakamoto yuta smut

[undercoverpena]

11. dusky pink

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter eleven of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.7k chapter warnings: frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. frankie being a boy!dad, luca appearance. an: this one is called jo kicked her feet mid-writing and editing.

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

“You didn’t have to come to help me.”

Tilting your head, a grin playing at the corners of your lips, you adjust the apron he gave you. “I don’t mind. Plus, you did promise me food after, so.”

A hint of mischief dances in his eyes, tongue sweeping across his lower lip. “So, if I want to persuade you to do something, I should wave a carrot in your face.”

Smirking, biting down on your cheek as you slide the boxed screws onto the shelf. “Oh, you can definitely wave something in front of my face.”

It's instant, the way his mouth falls open, hanging. Frankie's arm pauses, mid-air, on the shelf as he stares, blinks, and eventually clears his throat. “That's… good to know.”

“Your voice cracked there a little bit.”

Glancing at you from the corner of his eye, body beginning to restock again, you watch as he swallows, his forehead crinkling. Did it?”

Laughing, you remove the empty box from the cart—grabbing the Stanley knife attached to the side of it to slice open the next.

Even though you've been here at night before, it's different being down the aisles than when you shared food. There's an eerie stillness that hangs in the air under the low lights, punctuated by the occasional creak of the shelving when the two of you stack something. The strong scent of disinfectant is wavering from its assault on your senses, mingling with the musty odour of warehouse cardboard boxes. A smell that worsens, for a moment, each time one of you empties and flattens it.

But, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Finding yourself charmed by the place. Although, you suspect it's by the man beside you. The one who had been prepared to do all of this himself all evening.

“Frankie?” you ask, hearing him hmm. “You ever thought of owning this place? Maybe, making it your own or something?”

Snorting, he shakes his head as his fingers slide to itch at the back of his forearm. “No. Not… Well, I’ve thought about it, obviously. Not owning this place, but…”

“But...?”

Shrugging, mouth open, all but chewing his response as he stacks the shelf and answers with, “Doesn't matter. Wouldn’t be good at it.”

Scoffing, you lift your head, finding him staring. “Sorry, I’ll scoff quieter next time.”

“It's a lot of work. And, it's risky. The place can barely afford me, never mind someone else.”

Shaking his head, you see that look appear—the disbelieving one—catching it flutter across his face. His attempt at making it unreadable fails, as you spot it written all over his expression, practically in bold, italic, and underlined; all very much screaming he very much believes he couldn’t.

Continuing, he shrugs, nostrils flaring under a sigh. “S’not worth thinking about. Got bills. Luca. I… I failed him once, don’t wanna do it again.”

Dropping the contents back into the box, you don't think when you gently lay a hand on his arm, urging him to look. You're just grateful that he does.

Head tilting, trying to find words you swap easily for the truth. “I know I don’t know the version of you from back then, but I really doubt you failed him. You were trying to do the best you could, with what you had.”

His gaze meets yours, a blend of gratitude and uncertainty shimmering in his eyes. “I… just...I want to do right by him now, you know?”

“I know,” you answer softly, giving his arm a comforting squeeze. “And for what it's worth, I think you're doing an amazing job.”

He gives a small, appreciative smile at your words, eyes blinking past you as if trying to process the unexpected validation. Then, when his eyes fall back to you, his smile widens ever so slightly, a gleam of hope seemingly emerging from the shadows of doubt.

“I think you could do something like this.”

Flicking his eyes from yours to your lips, he smiles. “I don’t wanna own this.”

“What do you want then?” Hand sliding back inside the box, pulling out glue—the industrial kind, you imagine—that thankfully is labelled. “Outside of me helping you restock after hours.”

Grinning, he shakes his head. “Haven’t given it much thought.”

Smiling to yourself, turning the labels out, you leave him in silence for a moment. Letting him think, stew. “Not renovating?”

Tipping his head, his eyes meet yours—something twinkling in them. Shimmering. It makes you wonder to yourself if he’s ever been given a chance to think about something that he wants in a while.

“Maybe. I don’t know,” he replies, evidence there of a smile, of something turning, cogs shifting.

“Could get Luca to help—get him a mini tool belt.”

Laughing, he nudges you. “He’d charm them all into giving us free coffee.”

“From the stories you’ve told me, I don’t doubt it.”

It’s then he slides his hand across your back, fingers fanning, spreading warmth through the thin fabric covering your spine. “You still looking forward to meeting him?”

“Only when I don’t overthink it, and worry about the possibility of making the only person who matters in your world cry or something,” you smile, hand gesturing. “Outside of that thought process, very excited.”

Shaking his head, he steps closer, arm sliding around your waist—lips pressing to the top of your head. “Don’t tell him dinosaurs are extinct and you’re good.”

“Noted,” you whisper, staring up at him.

Eyes holding his, lingering. Your throat becomes full with letters, lips rolling as you weigh up whether it’s worth saying them—confessing them.

Instead, you press your mouth to his—hoping he can taste them, and how badly you want to share them.

Did you put that song over your latest Reel for my benefit?

If I did, was it appreciated?

I’m disappointed it’s not the loud-cat-screeching version I gave you in the car, but guess the original would be more well-known.

I want to keep that version, selfishly, to myself.

Just like I want to keep the photo of you with fries in your mouth just for me.

See, we have our things. Thanks for the help putting the Reel together.

I liked being your camerawoman. But next time, could I have a clapboard—maybe one of those chairs that says ‘Director’ on it?

I think I could find something for you to sit on.

Think that movie is something we’d selfishly keep to ourselves.

Be a good movie, though.

[SENDS PHOTO]

Wow, I didn’t even know they did coffees that large.

It was a special request. I told you she’s persuasive.

I wish I wasn’t on my own, otherwise I’d come down and see you both.

You just want her to get you a large coffee. Which I think she would—she likes you.

Rainy, that is the largest coffee I’ve ever seen. I’m glad she does. It matters your friends like me like mine like you.

Yours love me.

I am very aware.

If you’re good, I might drop you one off before I go home.

Have I told you how pretty you are today?

Such a charmer. [SENDS PHOTO]

See I knew you looked pretty.

Waiting, nerves prickling beneath your skin, your fingers interlacing tightly as you flick your eyes from the array of items you've arranged to the still-closed front door.

For the past, so many minutes, you've paced, chewed your cheeks, and endlessly rearranged the items on the table until they blur into a mess of neatness or chaos, you're not quite sure anymore.

Because it matters. Not just to him but to you.

Speaking to Luca (briefly, and on the phone) is so wildly different from meeting him. A thing you're aware of.

It's big. Fucking huge. A thing that you don't take lightly, or ever wish to. Not the permission to meet him, or the fact it's happening. It's why it keeps churning inside of you, bubbling and swimming up your throat; hands wringing out in front of you, thinking over what you'll do when his big eyes draw out the shape of you, standing there, waiting for you, this person who has entered his dad’s life, to say or do something.

You suppose that’s why your fingernail has migrated to scratching at the skin on your index finger, why your stomach is doing somersaults—more so when you hear the sound of Frankie’s vehicle pulling onto his drive.

You’ve got this. You can do this. Just breathe, just breathe, just—

The door finally opens, and there he is. The biggest eyes meet yours, all curious and wide. Even if the shadow of Frankie is behind him, you don’t take your eyes off Luca. Offering a small, reassuring smile, hoping it’ll be enough to show you’re trustworthy as he steps hesitantly into the room.

Not bending over, but crouching down, you let him approach. Watching as Frankie takes his jacket from his son before the soft introduction you've practised over and over again rolls from you—the sweet hello, followed by your name and I’m your dad’s friend.

And you knew it from photos—from the glimpses of the boy in front of you—but he has his eyes. Those soft, expressive eyes twinkle and shimmer at you as he offers his tiny hand for you to shake. One you take happily, with nothing but joy.

“Hey,” you say, voice soft and friendly. “I've heard so much about you.”

He looks at you for a moment longer, taking in your presence. Then, with a shy smile, he mumbles, “Hi.”

Frankie, watching the interaction from the doorway, closes the door, stepping further into the room as he presses his hand to Luca’s shoulder.

"Luca, you remember her from the phone?” He pauses, looking at you for a moment, before finishing, “...the one who struggled to say Aegyptosaurus.”

Narrowing your eyes a little, you smirk playfully at Frankie, the slightest shake of your head as you stare at the boy—warmth spreading through you as Luca begins to grin.

“Speaking of dinosaurs, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to help me with something?” you ask, gaze flicking up to Frankie who gives a supportive nod. “So, I’ve found this colouring book full of dinosaurs inside your Daddy’s coffee table, and I’m not sure what colours to make them.”

Slowly, his face shifts—from a questionable blank one to a slow smile that has the shadow of his dad’s, but breaks into something you assume must be his mom’s.

And god, it’s the most beautiful smile you think you’ve ever seen.

“Sure, I can helps,” Luca says, walking to the coffee table where the book is—before he’s beckoning you, little fingers urging you to come closer.

And you take a breath, a sigh—letting it flow into your lungs, as you reply with a quick ‘coming’ before you glance at the man still giving you both space.

Joining Luca on the floor, you sit cross-legged, the book propped up already on the table as colouring pens, crayons and pencils begin littering the wood not covered by un-coloured pages.

He's eager, flipping through the book, pointing out the different dinosaurs and naming them with an enthusiastic flourish that makes you chuckle. But, when he finds one, he stops. Head tilting from side to side, little finger tapping on the page before he sighs.

“This one!”

Grinning, you take a closer look. “Perfect.”

His smile mirrors yours, before he copies the pitch of your perfect and begins grasping for colours as he hands them to you.

“What’s your favourite dinosaur, Luca?”

Pausing, Luca brings his finger to his lips—dabbing it, scrunching his face before it explodes into a grin so large it almost makes you laugh. “Stegosaurus.”

“Cause of the spikey back?”

Nodding, he grins even wider, doing a little wiggle. “His name means roof lizard, you know that?” Shaking your head, he scrunches his nose as the corner of his lips rises. “And, and it used its back to defend himself.”

“He has a little beak too, right?”

Nodding, Luca begins to scribble his crayon onto the page. "You know him?"

“I’ve been doing my research.”

At Luca’s loud wow, and insistence on you using a colour he doesn’t like—maroon, which looks barely used—you glance towards Frankie, finding him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, fingers lazily tracing up and down the back of his arm, while sporting a soft smile.

Returning your attention to Luca, you spend the next hour engrossed in colouring (a thing you discover you’re doing wrong), dinosaur facts (you’re not sure how he knows so many) and hilarious stories. Finding, with each passing minute, the anxiety sliding from your bones, it falling from you altogether—slipping away, disappearing completely the more Luca interacts.

The two of you only come to a stop when Frankie mentions that it’s almost dinner time, putting the cap on your pen down.

“Hey, Luca. I have to go now. But, I’ve had the best time.”

“You’re not wanting to stay for dinner?” he asks, eyes full of hope as you spot his fist clenched around the pen he’s pressing to the page—the colour bleeding out.

Leaning forward, you smile. “Next time, promise.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Thanks so much for letting me colour with you.”

Getting up, suppressing a groan as your body aches from having to unfold itself from sitting cross-legged, you find Frankie waiting, his expression soft and tender.

“Hi handsome,” you whisper, taking the jacket from his hands.

Frankie leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead—all out of view, just like the two of you had agreed. “You did good,” he tells you quietly. “He likes you.”

Heart swelling at his words, you look back at Luca, who is now animatedly talking to his colouring book, and you find yourself unable to stop smiling.

“I like him too,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

And as you listen to Luca's excited chatter, you realise just how much you mean it.

Think you have a new fan.

Stop, do I really?

Apparently, you’re very pretty, and old like me, and so I should kiss you.

Well, not that I love all of those sentiments, I do like the last one.

Do you want me to call when he’s in bed?

You not sick of me?

Not even a little bit.

I’ll wrap up these amends, shower and then I’m all yours.

The image of you covered in soap suds is going to get me through the next half an hour of this show.

It vibrates softly against the bedsheets, your smile spreading—replacing the earlier irksome client and the nervousness from your afternoon.

“He hasn’t shut up about you.”

No hello. Just a continuation, as if the two of you had only paused from the texting to now. Biting your cheek, you smile, knees pulling up as you feel your Lee scrunch.

“Yeah?”

“Baby, he’s pulled out books to show you the next time you come round.”

Grinning, you sigh. “He’s really great, Frankie. He’s so funny? You never told me how funny he was, and how smart. God, when he—”

And you ramble.

For longer than you’re even aware of as you accidentally go into a play-by-play from this morning—as though the man hadn’t been loitering, standing close by or joining in when Luca’s stories got more outrageous. A standout favourite had been Frankie saving the neighbour's lion from a tree, which had turned out to be a cat called Leon.

“—Also, how does he know so much about dinosaurs? And, fuck—Frankie. Did I just ramble to you about your own son?”

You hear his laugh, real and airy, flow down the phone. “I like it, don’t worry. It’s nice hearing you ramble.”

“You’re a filthy liar.”

With a deep, resonant snort, his sigh of contentment drifts through the phone, making your body, in response, relax. Every muscle slowly uncoils, back sinking further into the plush comfort of the bed beneath you. Ear meeting the pillow as it wrinkles gently under the weight of your head.

“Did it… do you think it went as well as you thought?”

“Better,” he confesses, hearing the breath he releases with it.

Biting your lip, you settle yourself further into your duvet—resting your back against the pillows. “Have I told you today that I really like you?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line.”

Smirking, you rest your tongue between your teeth.

“And, really like? That’s a new one.”

“Well,” you grin, unable to fight a smile, “Felt you deserved the extra word.”

Rolling your head, you trace your teeth over your bottom lip—hearing it, absorbing it, the way he repeats it back. I really like you too. The words find a home, rather than sliding in one ear and out the other. Burying themselves, slotting into a place so perfect as they fit so snugly.

A comfortable beat passes, a moment to linger in it before he asks about your work—about the latest thing you’re working on. Even if you always feel you’ll bore him, he always surprises you by reminding you he won’t be. Engaged, asking questions. Listening and recalling back to things you’ve said before, that you suspect most wouldn’t have paid much mind to.

But, then, he’s not anyone.

“I think I left my hoodie at yours.”

Humming, you hear sheets rustling, before rummaging. “Um, the—yes, yeah you have. I’ll hang it up for you.”

“Only if you have the space too.”

“Well, this is… awkward. I wanted to do it in person—”

Even if there’s no indication to do so, your stomach knots. Tangles. Your heart slams into your chest as your throat, all of a sudden, dries.

“I… fuck, if this is too much tell me, but I’ve made you some space—in my wardrobe. And a drawer. And—”

“And, Frankie? How much space are you giving me?”

Swallowing, you hear him click his tongue. “Well... I mean, as much as you want, baby.”

“Frankie…”

“Have I… Is it too much?”

Pulling your knees up, grinning. Quickly wanting to fire a text to your friend and scream HE’S MADE ME A DRAWER, only stopping yourself because, instead, you, all high-pitched and squeaky ask if you can swap to video. Fingers trembling, your face filling the screen before you can eventually push it to the corner when his greets yours.

“You’re so sweet, thank you—it isn’t too much. Not even a little bit. I want—if you want—to give you the same.”

Laughing lowly, you watch him slide back into bed—the freckles on his collarbone illuminated by the bedside lamp. “Baby, you have half my tools at your house—you’ve made plenty of room for me.”

“Yeah, that toolbox is a health hazard—it is very heavy.”

“I’ll make sure to move it next time”

Scrunching your nose. “Oh no, I moved it. Managed to find some strength from somewhere to do so. That’s my workout for the week.”

Shaking his head, you watch him get into bed—arm resting above his head, fingers teasing at his curls as he smiles at you—eyes somehow just as bright even in low light as he begins telling you about his day tomorrow.

You watch, noticing the little lift of his lips when he talks about Benny, when he mentions taking Luca to training—which in turn (he explains) means Luca bosses them around and they all have to listen. Then after they’ll go on a boys’ lunch, where ice cream is usually consumed, the tradition having started when Luca was teething.

“Send me a photo—post-training.”

His tongue slides into his cheek, eyebrow lifting as he stares at you.

“Dripping in sweat do it for you, Rainy?”

“I’m not rewatching your Reels because I want to use a circle-saw, Frankie. Plus, you look so good in sweats—that black pair. Fuck.”

Chuckling to himself, he runs his hand over his face—and you imagine his cheeks are warm, that if the lighting were better, you’d see the beginning of his pink embarrassment crawling up his neck.

Yawning and stretching, you reach for your charger, plugging it in before moving to lie on your side, hearing him ask—as soft, and as sleepily, as he would if you were next to him—you comfy, baby? as your heart does a little flicker as you rest the phone against the pillow.

“Very,” you assure him, pulling the duvet closer around you. “Be more comfy if you were here.”

“Would you, though?”

Hesitating, you hum—hearing the lightest laugh come from him. “You’re very warm—like a furnace. I like it.”

“That all I’m good for, warming your bed?”

Smirking, your eyes heavy, you sigh. “You have some other uses.”

“I’m glad I’m useful.”

Settling further into the bed, hearing him shuffle and rustle from his end, you clear your throat to ask, “Do you think you'd rather have a pineapple for a head or a watermelon?”

Even with your eyes struggling to stay open, you sneak a glance to see his grin break out. “I'd love to live in your head.”

“You sure about that?”

Snorting, he shakes his head, fingers pushing the hair back from his forehead. “Pineapple. Sweeter for you to kiss.”

“You're so thoughtful.”

Giggling, you find a response sitting on your tongue, it just not able to form as you hum again—finding yourself so comfortable and warm under the sheets you’re barely able to hang onto his voice until he whispers ‘baby’. A little noise coming from you that in your head is clearly words, but not to anyone else.

Only realising it isn’t when he says your name. Calls it.

“Frankie…”

“Baby, why don’t we hang—“

“No,” you groan, the O sound stretching out—hardly with any intent. More said with tenderness and pouting than anything as you hear him chuckle. “I’ll wake up.”

“No, don’t… don’t do that. I’ll stay—listen to you snore.”

Flicking your eyes open, glaring at the screen. “I do not snore.”

Chuckling, his voice wraps around you like a warm blanket. “Sure, baby. You just keep telling yourself that.”

“Francisco!”

His laugh roars down the phone, making your cheeks hurt from smiling, shaking your head against the pillow as his laugh turns to an ‘aww’.

“Do you know how pretty you look right now?”

“You can barely see me, Morales. Stop trying to flatter me.”

Somehow, his laugh is even louder than it was before. And somehow, your smile is larger too.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏

Toji Fushiguro

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[Chapter 13] Back to the Beginning

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“I’m an escort.” Toji says which leaves you wide-eyed. You aren’t sure how to react, other than simply staring at the man. You’re dumbfounded. Dumbfounded even sounds like an understatement. Your mouth is parted, and you’re simply shocked to even hear that. Maybe you should’ve suspected that, but you didn’t. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“Yeah um…” You really aren’t sure how else to respond. You still feel hurt mainly because he hid this from you. You’re gathering your thoughts, and you think about talking this out with him but you aren’t sure if he’ll accept the offer to talk right at this moment; you’re afraid to ask. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, his hand still on the door. You bite down on your tongue, holding back on making a snarky remark due to the words he used not even five minutes ago. You clear your throat, tilting your head to the side,

“Is that any of my business?” You respond as you move to the side to let him in. It’s too cold outside for him to explain something that seems like a mouthful to explain. He walks inside and you shut the door. You watch him take a seat. “Don’t waste time, Toji. I’m tired.”

“Right…” He looks at the ground in shame. You’re not in the mood to comfort him, and you certainly aren’t going to tell him that him being an escort is no big deal. “Momoko and I aren’t dating. She just… Pretends like we are to her friends and her coworkers and parents– Just everyone around her. I look… Presentable enough and I guess she likes that I don’t really try to engage with them.”

“Okay…” Your brain isn’t coming up with the right words to say. “So how far–”

“Just going to events. Doesn’t get past flirting and occasional pecks on the lips.” He answers, and while it’s not as horrible as you thought, your stomach still churns. You don’t like what you’re hearing– But it’s fine, you’re not dating Toji or anything. He’s just your neighbor who you’ve gotten extremely friendly with. You take a deep breath and slowly nod your head. “What’s up?”

“Why didn’t you tell me this? Why are you doing all of this?” Questions flood your head. You aren’t really sure what you’re expecting to hear, but you hope that it’ll put you at ease.

“I didn’t want to scare you away… It’s not something that I’m exactly proud of.” He tells you, fidgeting his hands, not really having the courage to look at you. Toji isn’t a man that’s ashamed of anything but for some reason as he stands before you, he finds himself extremely embarrassed that he’s doing all of this. “I… Just want to save up a lot of money and buy Megumi a proper house, where he has his own room and can go outside and play in his own yard. Fixing cars is not enough with all my expenses.”

“I– I don’t know what to say, Toji.” You’re simply shocked. Maybe you should’ve expected it, but you were hoping he was a waiter or something along those lines. Not an escort. “I guess… You have to do whatever you have to do.”

“So what do you think?” He asks when you sit in complete silence for a minute, although it feels like it’s an eternity. He finally looks at you, watching as you stare down at your thighs. You really don’t know what to say, it’s not something light.

“You should’ve told me sooner.” You have no other words. Maybe if you found out sooner than you would’ve taken the news better. It’s not that you’re upset but… This is all so confusing for you. “I guess there isn’t that much trust between us and… It’s not something that you’re exactly proud of.”

“I mean, do you look at me differently now?” He questions, and you do. But mainly because he tried to hide it. He just makes it seem like he’s actually sleeping with them and– God, the idea of him sleeping with other women makes you upset.

“Did you… Fuck any of them?” You ask, and he quickly shakes his head. That makes you feel a lot better, but you still feel pretty weird. “I guess, I do. I just thought you would’ve told me. Considering that I almost consider you a boyfriend.”

“I guess sometimes things aren’t how we want.” He responds. You sigh, and he stands up from the bed, beginning to walk towards the door. His hand lands on the doorknob, and he turns to look at you. You stare at each other for a moment before he speaks up, “I hope things don’t change between us.”

“I hope so too.” You muster to say. He opens the door and exits, making you lay down on your bed. You don’t want things to change, Toji has been making you feel so good.

But you know things will change. There’s no way they can remain the same after finding out the truth.

It’s not because he’s an escort– Well not entirely. You feel weird knowing that Toji’s been hiding this from you. The idea of Toji kissing other women for the sole purpose of money makes you sick. You doubt that you’ll be sleeping tonight.

You’re more concerned about what he’s doing, rather than questioning who sent you the photos. Who knows about you and Toji? You have an answer, but you don’t really care to think about it. Your main concern right now is your relationship with Toji, a man who you thought you had a possible romantic relationship with.

You want to say that things remain unchanged, but they aren’t. You’re awkward around Toji, the same way he’s awkward around you. The only reason you interact now it’s because of Megumi, and it makes you feel upset because you were sure a relationship was developing. 

Slowly your walls were coming down and you’d allow yourself to be with the man that you were starting to like more than a friend. Sadly, things didn’t turn out the way you were hoping. 

You try not to dwell on it, maybe you’re just not meant to be with each other. It’s fine though, your hopes weren’t up too much. You won’t deny how weird this whole arrangement is. You feel like you’re trying to coparent Megumi even though he’s not your son. At least now Toji is paying you some money, even if it isn’t a lot. 

You want to act like everything is okay, but for some reason you find yourself upset when he’s working late nights, and your mind wonders just exactly what he’s doing. At least it doesn’t get past kissing; at least that’s what he told you. You aren’t quite sure if you can believe Toji’s word. 

The first week of February strikes you, and you’re shocked to realize just how fast time is going. It’s been over a month since you’ve had your conversation with Toji, over a month since he last kissed you. You don’t miss it, at least that’s what you tell yourself.

You don’t like Toji all that much either way. That sentiment slowly fades away. A little too slow for your liking, but regardless, it’s leaving. 

As Valentine’s day approaches, you find yourself a bit saddened though since you were expecting to have a Valentine’s this year. First it was Kento, your late husband, since you expected him to last longer. That hope clearly vanished, but as you got closer to Toji, maybe he could be your Valentine.

The most unexpected thing though is when you’re in your apartment taking care of Megumi. He has a little backpack– Which isn’t exactly so little. It reaches past his knees and he has to be careful with it. You have no idea why Toji got that backpack for him since it’s plain black and boring, not to even mention twice his size. He’s looking for something there.

“What are you looking for, GumiGumi?” You ask him, crouching down to help the little boy that looks determined to find something. He finally pulls out a wrinkled piece of paper that’s folded in half. It’s a card, and it’s filled with attempted shapes. You squint your eyes, trying to make out what it is. “What is that, honey?”

“Would you be my valentine?” He asks, as he extends his arm to you. You feel your heart soften, your bottom lip sticking out as you put your hand over your heart. He’s simply the cutest. You always knew you wanted kids but this just confirms it even more. You hug him.

“Of course, baby.” You respond. You kiss his temple, a big smile on your face when you look at him. Maybe you won’t be so lonely this Valentine’s day, you still have Megumi who is almost like your son. Knowing Toji, he’ll be busy. “Do you want to do something special? Maybe go to the movie theater or get something to eat?”

“Can we get ice cream?” He asks, a spark in his eyes as he mentions the cold treat. You end up nodding in response, causing the biggest smile to come to his face. Then he asks, “Can daddy come with us?”

“If he’s available, yes, baby.” You answer. When you fully stand up, you put the card down on the counter and you ask him, “Do you want anything specific to eat, Megumi?”

“No.” He shakes his head. You walk over to the fridge to look at what ingredients you have that can make a quick and easy meal. You’re not really in a cooking mood. 

You hear your phone ring, and you furrow your brows. You grab it to see an unknown number calling. You’re about to hang up the call since lately a lot of weird numbers have been calling you. Something urges you to pick it up, and when you do, you almost regret it. You heard your name, and you aren’t sure whether you should confirm or deny.

“This is her.” You end up confirming it. Your eyes widen when you hear it’s from the hospital, and you feel your heart drop. You remember a similar call years ago, and it ended up in you losing so much. “Who is in the hospital?”

Your eyes immediately dart to the little boy who opens his notebook to scribble with his crayons. God you hope it’s not– “Toji Fushiguro? I’ll be on my way.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #daddy toji #toji zenin #jujutsu toji #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #fushiguro toji #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fic

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Let It Snow*

————————————————————————-

Summary: You and Joe have a chill day, playing games and enjoying each other’s company while it snows outside. Of course, though, Joe can't contain himself for too long…

Warnings: Smut, fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Everlasting Love

————————————————————————-

December 23, 2023

“Joe! It’s snowing!” - you

“Hm.” - Joe mumbled

I had just rolled out of bed to peek out of one of the bedroom windows, suspecting that the extra light seeping through the blinds was because of an all-white climate.

Joe was lying on his stomach still in bed, not exactly caring about the snow as much as you. 

“Get back in bed.” - Joe

Something about his husky morning voice had me immediately obeying, and I crawled back into bed next to my boyfriend.

“Tired from last night?” - you grinned

“You mean my full-body workout? Yes.” - Joe

“It was so good, though.” - you

“Trynna get me goin’?” - Joe

“No…” - you giggled

Joe rolled over onto his back, the sheet falling in the process showcasing his semi-erect cock.

I heard him mumble a curse before pulling the sheet back up to cover his manhood.

“Want me to take care of that?” - you grinned

“I don't want you to feel pressured to…” - Joe

Leaning forward to place a hand on his chest, I leaned my face close to his but didn't exactly meet his lips.

“You know I can't get enough of you, baby. Fuck me? Please?” - you

Joe sat and stared at me for a second, feeling his cock get even harder at my request.

“Joey, I want you inside me.” - you

Those gorgeous blue eyes darkened to a color only of the depths of the ocean. Slowly and sensually Joe smashed his lips onto mine.

I let one hand wander under the sheet where I firmly wrapped my hand around Joe’s length. He immediately moaned into the kiss and dropped a hand down himself to slip under my t-shirt.

With my hand pumping him with no restraint, Joe now moving two thick fingers inside me, our hands moved in tandem, and we were both getting closer to release.

“Ho-ly shit…” - Jow grunted into the kiss

“Joey, fuck!” - you

A minute later, there was pearly precum on Joe’s tip and I desperately wanted a taste. Breaking away from the kiss and letting go of his shaft, Joe looked at me confused, but soon he'd be watching me suck his essence into my mouth.

“I’m close, baby.” - Joe

“Me… too.” - you moaned

Joe moaned when my pace got quicker, and his noises only made me closer.

Not even a minute later, Joe and I were moaning in each other's mouths as we climaxed simultaneously.

I hissed when Joe pulled his fingers out, but his peppering of small kisses on my cheeks while whispering words of praise comforted me.

“You did so good for me, baby. I know you said you wanted me inside you but I promise you'll get it later. Right now let's go get in a shower.” - Joe

I nodded and tried to get out of bed, but my legs, which were still slightly shaking from that intense orgasm, almost gave out on me.

Joe shuffled out of the bed and made his way over to me, picking me up bridal style and carrying me into the bathroom to have a relaxing shower.

——

An hour later, Joe and I were cuddled up on the couch, eating breakfast omelets and watching a Christmas movie that I forced him to watch.

“You really had to pick Home Alone?” - Joe

“It’s a classic!” - you giggled at his glare

“Are you unaware of the comparison between me and Kevin?” - Joe

“Nope. I'm fully aware, but I don't think you look like him.” - you

“Really?” - Joe

“Mhm.” - you bit your lip trying not to laugh

“y/n.” - Joe groaned, clearly annoyed

“I’m just kidding. Also, I'm kinda getting bored… what do you wanna do?” - you

I watched Joe pull his phone out and quickly type something with furrowed eyebrows. When he stopped moving his thumbs, he let out a deep sigh.

“Roads are closed, so we're stuck here. Wanna play a board game or something?” - Joe

“You gonna behave when you get beat?” - you

“Who said I'm getting beat?” - Joe

“I did.” - you laughed

Joe rolled his eyes before standing up from the couch and taking our empty plates into the kitchen. He placed them into the sink before heading towards the hallway closet where he kept his games.

After pulling a few things out of the game box, he walked back over to the couch and put them on the coffee table.

“Uno… Clue… Operation… and I have Chutes and Ladders.” - Joe

I picked up the Chutes and Ladders box, laughing as I read over the various text boxes.

“Age 2 to 4?” - you laughed

“For when my nephews are over! It's pretty fun though, sometimes they make me play with them.” - Joe

Looking at his face to see he was serious, I picked up the Clue box and sat it between us.

“We’ve got all day, we can pass some time with this since it takes a while.” - you

“Okay.” - Joe smiles

——

It was a little under an hour later, and Joe and I had finished Clue a little bit ago. Now we were playing Operation.

“Why am I so fucking nervous?” - Joe held the tweezers

I laughed at his comment. His usual calm, cool, and collected attitude faltered over a board game.

“Help him, Joe! He's got a damn pencil in his hand!” - you laughed

“Stop it! You're gonna mess me up!” - Joe

His shaky hands lowered the tweezers, and before he could even come in contact with the object inside, his hand jerked and hit the wall.

Joe jumped back when he got shocked, I know it didn't hurt that bad, so it was probably more of a subconscious reaction.

“Shit!” - Joe

“Aww, c’mere, baby.” - you

I laid down and pulled Joe on top of me, his head finding a comfortable spot between my breasts as I played with his hair.

“That was scary, huh?” - you babied him

“Mhm.” - Joe mumbled and let his eyes flutter shut

“Poor baby.” - you rubbed his back, feeling him immediately relax against you

Pressing little kisses on his forehead as I continued running my fingers through his hair, I watched a little smile form on his lips.

“I don't want you to go.” - Joe mumbled

“Oh, Joey. I don't want to go either. Tomorrow’s my last full day so we have to make it last.” - you

Abruptly, Joe shot up and hopped off the couch.

“Joe, where are you going?” - you

“Hold on!” - Joe

I watched him run up the stairs, a minute later coming back with a box in his hand.

“If you think this is cringe, we don't have to do it, but I bought this…” - Joe

He sat back down on the couch and sat an unopened box on my lap. After reading the box and looking at the picture, I realized that they were Lego flowers.

“Aww, Joe, it’s not cringe at all. I think it's sweet actually. Do you want to build it right now?” - you

My heart warmed when I watched his face light up.

“You want to? Actually?” - Joe

“Yeah.” - you smiled

“Okay.” - Joe smiled back

A few minutes later we had the bags distributed between the two of us and started building.

My back was against the armrest and my legs were draped over Joe’s lap.

This was probably the most content I’d ever felt, just sitting here with my boyfriend as we built Legos.

“Hey, Joe?” - you

“Mhm?” - Joe

“I love you.” - you

“I love you too.” - Joe looked up and gave you a smile

——

I hadn’t had my last bite of dinner fully chewed up when Joe whisked me off of the barstool and ran with me up the stairs.

“Joey! What are you taking me!” - you giggled

“Pound-town.” - Joe singsonged

When we got into the bedroom, Joe tossed me onto the bed and slipped his shirt off over his head.

Joe then took my shirt off of me, which was his, and slipped his hand around my back to take my bra off.

“Fuck… you're so pretty.” - Joe

My chest was bare for him, the only thing left on me being my pants and the ‘J’ necklace adorning my neck.

Taking a peek down at the clothes Joe still had on, I saw that his shorts were already tented.

“Joe, can we just get right to it? I want you so bad…” - you

“Whatever you need.” - Joe smiled

“I need you inside me.” - you whined

“Be more specific, baby. You want my tongue inside you? My fingers?” - Joe

“Your cock, please.” - you

Joe stepped back from the bed, pulling his shorts and boxers down in one go. Then crawled back on top of me.

He gripped the waistband of my leggings and pulled them down my legs before tossing them to the side unceremoniously.

“God, you're soaked.” - Joe groaned

“Boy, stop staring at it and get inside it.” - you

Seemingly within seconds, Joe lined himself up and trusted his entire length inside.

I immediately moaned and reached for his waist, trying to slow down his torturous pace.

“No, you wanted to be a smartass so fucking take it. Don't try to slow me the fuck down.” - Joe

His tip was meeting my cervix with each thrust, and I watched Joe’s face contort from pure pleasure.

“I wish I could be inside you forever.” - Joe moaned

“Shit, Joey!” - you

There was no better feeling than this. Having Joe balls deep inside of me, feeling every vein and dip of his member.

“You feel so good, damn it.” - Joe groaned

“So… do you!” - you

Joe dropped his head onto my shoulder, his mouth closer to my ear, giving me the ability to hear his small moans better.

“Yes! Right there!” - you moaned

“Here?” - Joe groaned

He planned that last thrust to be harder, and now Joe’s pace was getting uneven.

“Joe.” - you

“Mhm.” - Joe grunted

“Turn us.” - you

“What?” - Joe lifted his head from your shoulder

“Shit, let me ride you.” - you

Joe leaned up and grabbed my waist, flipping us over to where I was on his lap.

“Fuck!” - Joe

This new angle had him reaching new depths as I continuously bounced on his lap.

“Oh god.” - Joe’s

I watched Joe’s head fall back with his mouth open and eyes shut.

He was totally blissed out.

“Just like that… you’re perfect!” - Joe moaned

Falling forward to where my chin was on his shoulder, I tilted my head to the side and quietly moaned Joe’s name into his ear.

The feeling of his cock twitching inside me had my walls fluttering around him, and Joe grabbed my waist.

With his hands on my waist, Joe pulled me off of him and slammed his entire length back inside, causing both of us to moan loudly.

“I’m gonna come!” - you

Joe reached a hand down and pinched my clit with enough force to unleash my orgasm.

The feeling of my walls squeezing Joe’s member became too much for him. Just a few seconds later, Joe buried himself deep inside me and came.

“Oh, y/n!” - Joe moaned and hid his face in your neck

After a couple of seconds of heavy breathing, Joe rolled us over onto our sides and slowly pulled out.

Joe draped a blanket over me and hopped out of bed, going to the bathroom and returning with a damp warm washcloth.

He laid back down next to me and gently parted my legs to clean me up.

“Thanks.” - you sleepily mumbled

“Of course, you did so well, baby.” - Joe

I cuddled up into his bare chest, relishing the warmth his body emitted and the softness of his skin. I wish we could always be this close.

The thought of leaving Cincinnati in two days made me sad. I wish I could stay here with Joe forever, but long distance will have to do for now.

“I wish you could stay too.” - Joe

“How did you know I was thinking that?” - you

“You had a little frown on your face, so I just guessed that you are thinking about having to go back to Athens.” - Joe

“I can’t wait till I graduate and move in here. Being with you every day sounds like an absolute dream.” - you

“I can't wait either.” - Joe

Knowing that one day I'll be living with Joe full-time, being able to do my girlfriend duties and go to every one of his games, seriously made me so happy for the future.

If only you two knew it wouldn't be that simple.

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Authors note: what does that ending mean? 👀

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut

[drabblesandimagines]

Dove (part two)

Part one here. Leon Kennedy x fem reader Slow, slow burn, mostly fluff tbh

--

Leon’s lying on the couch, an arm bent behind his head and staring at the living room ceiling when his watch beeps, signaling the 0500-perimeter check. There are security cameras outside that will send a notification to his phone, but technology isn’t infallible so he prefers a sweep with his own eyes every four hours or so when he’s on protection detail. He heaves himself upright, wincing a little when his back protests. Hell, maybe he’s getting a little old to be sleeping on sofas. He picks up his gun off the coffee table and checks the cartridge, more out of habit than anything else – hasn’t shot a bullet this mission.

He makes his way over to the garage door, casting his eyes over your bedroom door as he does so. You won’t be awake for a few more hours, not after those sleeping pills, so he’s not trying to be particularly quiet when he unlocks the door, steps through and locks it once more behind him. He walks around the side of the SUV towards the garage shutter itself next, unlocks the padlock and lifts it up to step out into the cool night air.

The safe house is located a few miles out from a village on old farm land, tucked away down a rural lane. No nosey neighbors to question why there are no people living there most of the year. He went round the perimeter anti-clockwise upon arrival, so he’ll go clockwise this time, flashlight in one hand and gun aimed in the other. He’d been at home for a change when Hunnigan had called him – first person she thought of when she’d seen Lickers on the partial CCTV footage that had been salvaged. For a building housing the DSO’s surveillance division, Leon hadn’t been particularly impressed by quality of the CCTV images. Grainy, staggered frames of the creatures tearing up the office and people apart, leaving only destruction in their wake. And you, breathing but dazed, buried under lockers at the bottom of the stairwell and, somehow, the only survivor.

He completes his round at 0525, nothing significant to note and heads back inside, unlocking and locking doors behind him.

At 0600, his phone vibrates in his pocket – a steady rhythm denoting it’s a phone call, not a message or notification and, really, there’s only one person who will be calling him so he doesn’t even bother to check the caller ID.

“Morning, Hunnigan. What did the night bring?”

“Nothing substantial. We’re still trying to establish the full timeline. Seems like the footage we salvaged yesterday might be all we are going to get CCTV-wise.”

“Did you send a team out to Dove’s?”

“Won’t have the manpower till this afternoon. Why – do you have suspicions?”

“No, not at all.” He replies. “I just… I think it’ll put her at ease to know we’re not treating her as a suspect.”

“Did you question her?” Hunnigan sounds skeptical and he hears her tap away on her keyboard. “I haven’t received your report if so.”

“No, not yet. It was late when we arrived – she was tired, in pain, terrified. I didn’t think questioning her then would go down particularly well or be helpful. Gave her painkillers and sleeping pills. I’ll broach it after breakfast, maybe.”

“Broach it?”

“See how she’s feeling, I mean. Last night after we got in the car, she was all one-word answers, a couple of sentences here and there.” Leon sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose. “I just don’t wanna scare her off.”

“If she’s got nothing to hide, there’s nothing for her to be scared of. Do your job and don’t get sweet on her.”

“Why can’t a guy do both?” He laughs.

“Leon – I expect that report today.”

The smile drops and he nods, as if she could see him. “Yes, ma’am.”

--

It takes a few attempts to open your eyes, blearily staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling in the morning light that filters in around the curtain. Your mouth is horrendously dry – a side effect from the sleeping pills, perhaps. Your whole body aches with stiff, bruised limbs.

But you’re alive, you remind yourself, when so many others aren’t.

Leon had been right at least – the sleeping pills had knocked you out into a dreamless sleep, though you don’t feel particularly rested.

You sit up in the bed tenderly, immediately thinking of painkillers. There’s no thought of getting changed, making yourself presentable. The man helped you strip last night, hell, he might think you’re a murderer, what does it matter if you leave the bedroom in a long t-shirt that shows a perhaps indecent amount of leg?

You open the door cautiously, unsure if Leon might still be sleeping on the couch, but it’s empty. Not a pillow or blanket in sight. The bathroom door is open, so he’s not in there. Your eyes move next to the door to the garage – maybe he’s gone to the SUV, would he sleep in there?

You turn slowly on the spot, trying to work out if there’s another door you’d missed in the blur of last night, but there’s the three – bathroom, bedroom, garage…

Wait. Your stomach sinks in realization.

Where’s the front door?

Is it a safe house thing? But surely that limits exit options if you’re trapped in here.

Or maybe that’s what they want.

Maybe you’ll graduate to a safe house with a front door when they don’t suspect you of being involved. You’ll ask Leon, you think, when he comes back from wherever he is. He seems nice, or nice enough. Been nothing but a gentleman, genuinely caring about your wellbeing… But maybe that’s all an act. An uncomfortable sensation reminds you that you need to use the facilities after a night of medicated sleep, so you head into the bathroom and lock the door.

All doubts about his sincerity are thrown out of the reinforced window once you see what’s on the counter.

There are two toothbrushes – one in a mug he’s pilfered from the kitchen after you’d smashed the container last night, and one’s lying flat on the counter, toothpaste pre-squeezed upon its bristles.

Sweet.

--

You emerge from the bathroom, teeth cleaned and find Leon stepping through the garage door.

“Oh, morning.” He smiles, shuts the door firmly behind him. You can see he looks a little tired around the eyes.

“Morning.”

“I didn’t think you’d be up for a few more hours. How are you feeling?”

“A bit sore.” He can tell you’re lying about the ‘bit’ - trying to put on a brave face. “What time even is it? I don’t have my phone… or a watch.”

“Ah,” he looks down at his own as if he doesn’t already know from his 0900 check. “Nearly half nine. Did you sleep all right?”

You nod. “No dreams. Was the sofa okay?”

“Yeah, one of the better ones.” He turns to the door and you hear a click before he steps away, heading into the kitchen.

Locked in.

“Where were you?”

“Outside. Perimeter check – all good.”

“Oh.” You pause, feeling like you know the answer before you can even ask it. “Can I go outside?”

His face falls in apology. “Sorry. Not at the moment - protocol. Wouldn’t want to risk anything.”

“Yeah, makes sense, I guess.” You continue standing awkwardly, a combination of not knowing what to do with yourself and hesitant to move knowing it’s going to hurt. “Erm, sorry, where did you put those painkillers?”

His face remains apologetic, though you’re not sure why. “We should get you some food in your first. I really shouldn’t have given you all those pills last night on an empty stomach.”

“I couldn’t have eaten anyway.”

“Understandable.” He ducks down below the counter and opens a cupboard, standing upright and placing a box of oats on the counter. “I’m afraid breakfast choices are a little limited. Oatmeal okay?”

“You cook too?”

“I’d say describing me as a cook is a stretch. We’ve got some fruit as well, but I think oatmeal will be best for those pills.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, please.” You remain standing in place. “Erm, can I… do anything?”

“Nah, I’ve got it all handled.” He calls over his shoulder as he grabs some mugs out of a cupboard – doesn’t have to open a few before he can locate what he’s looking for as you would have to in a vacation rental. “Go ahead and sit down. Might’ve noticed this place is sans dining table, so coffee table will have to do.”

You walk slowly over to the couch, your muscles aching with protest. The bruises are far darker on your legs today than yesterday and, boy, do you feel it. You sit down delicately on the sofa, before tucking your knees up underneath out of habit, reaching for a throw pillow and clutching onto it pathetically.

You don’t know where your thoughts drift off to as you stare at the TV opposite despite it being off – it’s like your brain just temporarily switched off, until a single word reboots it.

“Honey?”

“Huh?” Where had that come from? Was it…? “I thought we went with Dove.”

Leon laughs – can’t help himself. “No, no, sorry. I meant, would you like honey on your oatmeal? Codename’s still Dove, as far as I know. I don’t come up with them.”

“Oh,” you feel your face grow a little hot. “Y-yeah, please.”

A few moments later he approaches the coffee table, steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a bowl of oatmeal in the other, complete with spoon. He places it down in front of you with a flourish.

“Order’s up.”

There’s an attempt at what looks like a smiley face drawn in honey atop the oatmeal.

“Thank you.” You can’t help the amused tone that enters your voice.

“Yeah, sorry,” he rubs the back of his head. “I can’t do fancy drizzles like the restaurants so that’s the best I could come up with. I’ll just go grab your pills, but dig in.”

You lean forward and spoon a small scoop up and force it into your mouth. Your appetite is still missing in action but you know you need something. A metal clang draws your attention from behind and you turn your head, seeing Leon fiddling with what looks like a metal lockbox. He opens it and pulls out the canister of the painkillers and shakes two out in his hand, before closing the box and locking it. You turn back, take another scoop of oatmeal and swallow, hoping it gets rid of the bitter taste of distrust in your mouth.

He's in front of you again, hand outstretched, but you can’t help yourself.

“Why are the painkillers locked away?”

“Protocol.” He doesn’t meet your eyes.

“Really?”

“I’m afraid so.” There’s a pause. Leon knows what you’re thinking and he hates it – he knows what it’s like to be scared, not trust anyone around you and he desperately doesn’t want to be that to you. “It’s mainly the sleeping pills. I don’t think you’re going to slip some and try and knock me out, or try and overdose on painkillers, but I… I need to follow it, okay? It’s nothing personal, Dove, I promise.”

“Is it protocol not to have a front door too?”

“Ah, wondered when you might clock that. Yeah. There’s a false one outside – built into the façade so it doesn’t look weird. Only real way in and out is through the garage.”

“But if someone or…” You swallow, the creature flashing up in your mind “…or something got in here, we’d be trapped.”

“Nothing is getting in here and if it does, it’s not getting past me.” He says, sincerely, and when you meet his eyes, there’s that niggle in your chest. You want to trust him - you really, really want to - you want to feel completely at ease with the man who’s apparently ready to lay his life down for you and only you, but you still feel like you’re on the tightrope between victim and villain in this piece. “Open your hand?”

You do, watching him drop two little white pills into it.

“You can have them every four hours if you’re feeling sore. I’ll keep track of the doses, just ask.”

You knock them back with a swig of coffee.

--

“Is it okay if I take a shower?”

“Of course you can.” He pauses, trying to work out why you thought you had to ask. “Do you need a hand with…?”

“No, I think I’ll be okay. Erm… Do you know what I need to do about my temple?” You gesture to the medical strips on your forehead.

“Ah, yeah. So, need to try and avoid getting them wet for a few days. Don’t worry if you do though, I can re-do ‘em. First aid qualified.”

“Thanks. Erm, see you in a bit.” You head into the bedroom and to the duffel bag filled with clothes, picking out a selection that should work and run a brush through your hair. You take it back in the bathroom – Leon politely pretends to be engrossed in whatever’s now on the TV - and place them down on the counter, before locking the door.

After a less than relaxing shower – foregoing washing your hair – injured arm hanging loosely by your side, you’re not sure how long it takes to wrestle to put on underwear, sweatpants and a t-shirt, but it’s not like you have anything to do or anywhere to go.  There’s no way you feel up to tackling the exercise bra that whoever has packed and asking Leon is simply beyond the question. It’s nice to be clean though. You’d tried to put the sling back on but had given up when your shoulder had started to smart after failed attempts and leave it half on/half off as you leave the bathroom.

Leon’s sat on the couch, phone in hand when you emerge. He turns, gives you a smile and nods at it.

“Need a hand with that?”

“Please. I tried, but…”

“Hey, it’s early days.” He stands up to meet you, pocketing his phone, as you walk over. “Sometimes they try and get you doing exercises from day one with dislocations too, but the medic advised you rest it for a week so I wouldn’t push yourself too hard.”

He takes adjusts the work you’d managed ever so slightly, and then puts everything in place. He steps closer to adjust it around your shoulder and you find yourself just staring into the expanse of his chest, when he sniffs.

 “Mm. What is that - strawberry?”

“Huh?” You look up.

“Your bodywash.” He tightens the strap in place, checking everything is holding snug. “Someone on supplies must’ve been feeling fancy to be stocking us with that.”

“Did you not shower?” Your face burns red as soon as the question leaves your lips. “Not that you…” You like his scent, actually, woody. “I mean, just the bodywa-”

He shrugs it off. “I get you. Er, no. I… Well, I didn’t want to whilst you were sleeping, you know, in case…”

“Oh.” In case someone or something attacked. “Well, you could now – if you want. I’m awake now, so… Unless it goes against protocol?”

“No.” As long as he takes his guns and other weapons in with him, he thinks, and casts a longing look at the bathroom. “Promise you’ll yell if you need me, or you hear a weird noise or… anything, right?”

“I’ll yell.”

“Good. Okay. Might see if there’s another bodywash packed though – not sure I’m a strawberry guy.” He heads over to the garage door where the other duffel bag remains and picks it up, carrying it into the bathroom and locks the door.

He emerges 20 minutes later, same sort of t-shirt and cargo pants combo as yesterday and there’s a whiff of strawberry scent as he walks past you to sit down on the other couch.

--

You’ve been staring blankly at the TV screen for a little while – some sort of house renovation show, kept the volume down low. There isn’t really much else to do here and, really, you don’t want to sit and dwell on your own thoughts. Leon gave you the remote control, told you it was your choice and, sure, you’d clicked down past some of your favourite shows but you don’t want to associate any of them with this, with what happened…

So, weird house renovation it is, though you’re not taking any of it in.

Leon had excused himself a little while ago, said there was still some things in the back of the SUV he needed to grab. You don’t look round when he comes back in but you hear the lock click once more, before you hear him open a cupboard and the tap runs. He shows up in your peripheral vision a few moments later, placing two glasses of water down on the coffee table, laptop tucked under his arm and looking sheepish through his hair.

“Dove, I… I need to ask you some questions about yesterday.”

“Questions?” You tuck your legs up underneath you, wanting to huddle your knees like you do when you watch a horror movie.

“Yeah. Get your statement, mainly. It’ll help the investigation. I’m going to record the audio.”

“Do you want the TV off?”

He smiles at your question – still so sweet and considerate despite the fact he’s the one about to interrogate you, make you relive what is surely the worst even of your life, and you’re worried about his audio quality.

“No, it’s low enough – it won’t get picked up if you wanna leave it on for background noise.”

“Okay. Erm, I think I’d like that.” You pause, digging your nails into your palm. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, though. It’s all… kind of a blur.”

“That’s okay,” he opens up his laptop, taps a few keys and angles it to set up to record so he can go over and pick key points up later, if there are any. “Anything will be great. We’ll take it slow. You ready?”

You’re not, but you doubt you ever will be.

“Ready.”

--

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

PS: Comments literally make my day! Lemme know if you're excited for part 3 x Part three.

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

[david-talks-sw]

These are the only three flaws I will concede, when it comes to the Jedi during the Prequels.

“They got lax/complacent.”

Yeah*. If you listen to the director’s commentary, George Lucas states the scene in AOTC with Jocasta Nu is there to indicate how unprepared the Jedi were before the Sith’s plan. They thought they were secure and ready but they were not and it turns out humble restaurant owners like Dex know things they don't.

*HOWEVER: Who wouldn’t be complacent, in times of peace?

The Sith were thought to be extinct and Dooku was once a Jedi, a revered one at that. Nobody could have suspected he’d betray the Order that raised him and loved him.

Nobody could've suspected that he'd abuse of their trust and delete a system from the Archives using the credentials of his best friend who he'd had assassinated. That's a verrrry specific scenario, and expecting them to be prepared for that is unreasonable.

"They should've sensed something!" Well, by this point in time, everything surrounding the Jedi was tainted by the Dark Side, which clouded everything. So on the one hand, this situation granted Sidious the gift of foresight and allowed them to always be one step ahead, and on the other, it caused the Jedi to be stuck trekking ahead in a fog, unsure of what the next move would be.

“They were politically-inept.”

Yes**. That’s how the Sith ran circles around the Jedi. They figured “there’s only two of us, if we march into the Temple we’ll get slaughtered, but wait, the Jedi serve the Senate and the Senate is run by politicians… what if we become the politicians? Then we can destroy the Jedi and the principles from the inside!”

**HOWEVER: The Jedi were politically-inept by choice.

After all, their function isn’t setting policy but carrying it out. They’re not politicians, they’re diplomats and as such they're not allowed to get involved in the political process.

But if they were... they still wouldn't. Because power corrupts, and if you let the space monks (who already have magical powers) have political power too, then that will lead to a very dark place.

The Jedi knew that if they tried to play politics, they’ll lose because they have neither the ruthlessness nor the status to do it well, so they make it a point of never going anywhere near it.

Unfortunately, that leaves them open to situations where the Senate or Palpatine corner them into doing something they really don’t wanna do.

It's how they were forced to expel Ahsoka, how they lost the favor of the citizens and it's how Dooku, then the Emperor, framed them as power-hungry sorcerers with his propaganda.

“The war made them hypocrites.”

Sure***. The Jedi were meant to be diplomats, not soldiers. By waging war instead of keeping the peace, they’ve compromised on their values.

***HOWEVER: The Jedi know this and they’re not happy about it at all.

Firstly, because they were forced into this situation by the Senate and Palpatine, who drafted them into service.

Secondly, because they know they’re essentially moving ahead blindly and playing right into the Sith Lord’s hand by fighting this war he orchestrated.

But finally, it’s that they know that not joining would’ve been worse. Sticking by their principles would’ve resulted in the enslavement and genocide of many populations. Sometimes, the spirit of the rules must be prioritized over the letter. Either do nothing and be true to your principles, or go against them but save lives.

It’s a bad choice to make, but not as bad as not making one.

It's a bad choice, but it's motivated by a desire to do some good and it did. They saved countless lives (sometimes at the cost of their own) and inspired countless more to form the Rebellion, later on.

So... three flaws.

But they all come with asterisks. There’s a reasonable (sometimes, even admirable) justification for each of them.

I’m pointing these out because a lot of people seem to conflate “the Jedi were flawed” with “the Jedi were at fault” when talking about their own demise. And the answer to that is:

No.

The Jedi were not at fault. Everybody else was.

The Senate was at fault for growing corrupt and self-serving.

Big Corp for their never ending greed.

The Separatists for being so blind and naive as to think Big Corp would tooootally value their principles and absolutely not commit war crimes every chance they get.

The Sith for being the mass-murdering egotistical assholes who started this whole mess.

And the citizens of the galaxy for not taking up arms in the face of blatant injustice.

Sometimes bad people win.

That doesn't always mean the good guys are at fault. Sometimes, the bad guys are just… better at the game. Mostly because they see it as a game, and the good guys don't.

Luckily, 20 years later, most of the above faults were rectified by the Rebellion, which was led by the best of the Senate, and composed of Separatist remnants and brave citizens of the galaxy.

#star wars #jedi order #clone wars #prequel trilogy #pro jedi #in defense of the jedi #long post #sw meta #this came up in a discussion I had on Reddit and I figured I'd share it here too

[mrandmrssnowbaird]

Reader breaking up with sub!coryo, and him trying to convince reader to stay. Him crying and begging her to stay

very submissive kept-boy coryo, but you're a soft dom and you just wanna take care of him forever when you realize how badly he needs you. dacryphilia, begging - it'll get sexier in part 2 keep your pants on people XD

Coriolanus has been a great boyfriend. What he doesn't have in the ability to spoil you monetarily, he makes up for in emotional gestures - holding your hand, brushing your hair away when you've just applied lipgloss and the wind blew a few strands to stick to your lips - things like that. The blonde tells you his secrets - that it's all a front, the Snows are flat broke and most nights he goes to bed hungry and goes to school the same only to be satisfied by school lunches. This only endears him to you, and you start to take care of him in little ways - inviting him to dinner and sending him home with extras, taking him out to breakfast on weekends. You bring cash, and you slip it to him to allow him to pay - pretend to the public that he is the one treating you. Each time, his eyes shine with adoration for you. You take care of him, really and truly, and you suspect he needs that. The depth of his need becomes evident when you try to end things. He hasn't done anything - but you're restless, and it feels like something is missing. Like he's still holding back, somehow. You invite him over to your place - you never go to his, even if you know his secret - and when Coriolanus sits on your bed, you break the news to him. He's heartbroken. You watch it happen, the realization, the moment of understanding. His brow furrows and he shakes his head of blonde curls. "What did I do...?" He asks, shaking his head. You knew he would ask this. "It's not that, it's just..." You begin, looking down at your hands, but he interrupts you. "Please, please don't do this." Coriolanus seems breathless, panicked, blue eyes wide and full of unshed tears. His pleas and tone surprise you - and pull at your heartstrings. "Coryo..." "What did I do? Is it because-" "No, it's not because of your situation." You say quickly. Your family has enough money for the both of you - it's really not that. "Then what! Did I mess up? I'll fix it! Let me fix it, please." He's desperate, you can hear it and see it. Your eyes take in his expression. You're not sure why, but something about his desperation and pleading is fascinating you. "It's not really something you can fi-" You begin, but he cuts you off again, and you're utterly shocked at what he does next.

"Please! Please don't do this. Don't leave me! I can fix it. I can." Coriolanus says, and then he slides off of your bed and down onto his knees, hands clasped in front of him.

#coriolanus snow #sub coriolanus #sub coryo #mrslucygraysnow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coryo x reader #coryo x you #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #sub! coryo #sub! coriolanus

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

This is the freebie of all freebies. Write whatever you want whenever you want how often you want. Save this in your inbox or post it, I do not mind either way. I always love to see what you write, doesnt really matter what :)

You look the man in front of you up and down and don't bother to keep your lip from curling, "No."

"Come on baby," he purred, stepping closer, reaching out to straighten your jacket, forcing contact. He screams of lust. Of the need to dominate and control. He sees what a lot of men see when they look at you.

A fragile little doll. A breakable little girl. A lost little lamb. Someone who just needs a daddy. A protector. Easy prey.

"Touch me," you warn, "and you'll forget to sit before you take a shit." You don't bother to specify whether or not it'll be because you'll mindfuck him until he bashes his head against a wall to make it stop or because Batman, Nightwing, or any number of the other heroes in the vicinity right now will curb stomp him until he's a blithering idiot.

His eyes are lifeless. Like a puppet's. And when his hand closes around your wrist his skin is hot and dry. It feels like crepe paper left in the sun and he reeks of burnt sugar. Target. Suspect.

So before you carry out your promise, you ping Cass. Trusting her to alert Bruce. You might not QUITE be able to mindfuck him into oblivion but NO ONE was ever going to prey on you again. And as he pull you close to his chest, it was immensely satisfying to make him piss his pants in the alley, writhing in wordless unhinged terror as you skipped your new black velvet boots neatly out of the puddle.

"Hn."

"Interesting way to make new friends, Changeling," Clark observed, surveying the scene. Trying not to react to the fact that you look a little too pleased with yourself.

"I did tell him not to touch me," you inform them, watching dispassionately as his sobs turned to vomiting.

"Can you let up before he aspirates things into his lungs," Bruce sighed. At least it was focused rage. And at least he'd probably cooperate as long as they didn't leave him alone in a room with you. That was... something.

And while you don't reply, at least not verbally, he can tell that you comply. Mostly because the man stops writhing and starts gibbering. "Shut up," Batman said rolling his eyes, watching Clark grab him by the back of his coat. "Just tell us what we wanna know or we'll let her do it again. Harder."

"Okay, Okay, Jesus," he protested, "I didn't know I thought she was kidding!" He looked at you and your lip curled reflexively making him flinch. "Everyone always said you were just a joke."

"Let's go," Superman said, "This drug is gonna kill-"

"Anything you wanna know! Just don't let her do it, please!" he pleaded, letting himself be lead away.

"What did you say to him?" Bruce asked, watching Clark load him into a transport where Jason and Dick were loading some others that had been rounded up.

"That if he touched me he'd forget to sit when he took a shit. Granted, I didn't say how."

"Vulgar."

"What was I supposed to do? Scream?"

"Just don't make anyone else piss themselves," Bruce sighed.

"Then don't let Stephanie pick the outfits. She dressed us like sexworkers not nuns and people keep taking liberties. It's gross."

"Point." Bruce admitted. "Point taken." He pinched the bridge of his nose and not for the first time, he just wanted all of you to be little again. You were 19 now. Still a kid. But he wondered if he'd ever stop seeing you as a little girl in his head. Because as Cass took you to the next location and he went to help Stephanie, it took an absurd amount of self-control not to call after you to put on a jacket or something.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #science experiment!reader

[jellyluvr]

Desperate

- Warren lipka x virgin!fem!reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

I'm very aware of the basic title, but I couldn't think of anything else. Unless you want "very awesome title" then you'll have to deal with this. Also sorry if this might be bad it's kinda choppy idk

Warnings: smoking weed, lots of friends, public sex?? I don't know lol 🤧 car sex, and loss of virginity (obvi)

Summary: warren basically leads you into the woods and you go with him, him making the first move. (Then u go to the car)

(Divinelyruled's gif)

Warren swerved while driving, spencer and Chas laughing in the backseat. They were all pretty annoying, but it was their usual bullshit. Warren was wearing his stupid tropical button-up and his typical pants. You only hung out with all of them for Warren. Maybe for a little of spencer, but everyone else were absolute dipshits.

Once the car recovered from Warren's horrible driving, he spoke. Loud and proud.

"You guys wanna smoke?" Warren said, looking at you, a huge grin on his face. He was acting like a child. You really didn't know what to say, but there was no protest. Chas and spencer spoke up, both agreeing.

So, Warren pulled over in a rather sketchy parking lot before reaching in the backseat, grabbing some old textbook he had.

"Uhh, reach in the glove box, would ya, sweetie?"

You loved hated when he called you that. But, you still reached in the glove box. There were flavored wraps in there, a few boxes, actually. Bubblegum, pineapple, blueberry, and cotton candy. They were all for joints, them being 'juicy Jay's'

"Yea.. yeah.. that's the one. Here.." he took the blueberry one before setting everything on the armrest. What the hell was he doing?

"Where's the weed, man?" Warren said, pushing back his seat to lean on spencer. Chas just fumbled around for a moment before passing warren a bag, letting out a soft hm as a thank you.

"Warren what the fuck are you doing?" You didn't know what he was doing. You were really confused.. you had thought you'd just smoke cigarettes but joints? How did he even know how to make those..?

"Makin' you a treat, sweetheart. You'll loooovveee it..." he chuckled a little, his eyes shifting to you for a second. Then, he moved the textbook back on his lap, the bag of weed setting on it.

You were seriously scared. Your parents were strict assholes and this was really scary. You didn't even know how you managed to get out tonight. Your dad was like a hawk. A really fat and mean hawk.

"Warren, I can't smoke weed. My dad will know.." you spoke in a low tone, too focused on Warren's hands making the joint. You studied what he did. He got a little rectangle paper, folding it up and making a circle shape. You didn't know what that was, but you continued to watch. He carefully put the weed on the thin paper, spreading it out evenly while he tapped it slightly. Next, he put the small rectangular thing towards him on the paper, then rolling it up. Chas and spencer shouted and giggled in the back, but you paid no attention to them.

You were too fascinated with what he was doing to care. Then, the joint was done and he handed it to you, you holding it and just looking over to him with a face that read 'wtf dude?'. He laughed at you, grabbing a lighter. "It's like a cigarette. Kind of.. just put it in your mouth please." He smiled warmly, giggling a little. It made you suspect he was fucking with you, but you put the filter part in your mouth, letting him light it.

You took a puff in, immediately pulling the joint out of your mouth as you coughed. Chas and spencer laughed even more, the two of them drinking and up to their own stupid shit..

Warren held back his laughing, taking the joint from you and taking a puff expertly, a smile on his face. He admired how innocent and pure you were. And how cute.. but he'd never admit that. He started to drive again, moving his seat back up as he drove out to where smoke came out of the woods. You assumed this was a bomb fire, so you just sighed.

That sigh would've been nice if it wasn't for the horrible smell in the car. You coughed some more, Warren finally rolling down his window for the smoke to escape desperately. You turned the other way, burying your head in your arms as you closed your eyes, the comfort of your jacket over you. You hated this. You just wanted to spend time with Warren.. watch a movie maybe. But not go out and party.

It was too late to turn back when you smelt the actual familiar smoke.. and heard the screams and yells of teenagers downing beer. You dreaded this.. why couldn't you and Warren go make out or something? Whyd this have to be in motion???

Warren got out, spencer and Chas following as the laughed seeing other friends from college. I guess some weren't teens.. more of unmature adults. You groaned, getting out of the car as well in your little skirt and top. It had originally been for warren.. to impress him in some way but you weren't even sure if he liked it. Of course you hoped so.. but he was an unpredictable guy. An asshole really.

You began to walk to warren and his friends, them all fucking around and freaking out. You didn't know a few people, but they eventually led you all to the bomb fire. Clinks of beer were heard every few seconds, crackles from the fire too. You didn't understand why they even had a fire. It was like 90.. mosquitoes were sucking off of you like vampire's every 5 seconds. The fire really provided no protection to the bugs, but it did look kind of cool.

Warren talked with everyone, them sharing cigarettes and other things. Showing stuff on their small little phones and laughing.. talking about 'bitches'. But now that you thought about it you were just about the only woman there. There was 3 or 4 others, but most of the people were guys. Disgusting men.. they all looked the same. Same hair, same nose.. same outfit.. you were positive men felt the same way about you, but you didn't care.

The only man that meant anything to you was warren. Your beloved warren. You daydreamed about him while you stared.. taking in his brown eyes and cute dimples. The single mole on his nose.. the perfect shape of it. His wonderful hands.. you wondered if his dick looked the same. Veiny and girthy.. maybe you would draw it later that night. Definitely..

A sigh left your mouth as you started to walk back to the car, hoping warren would come over and encourage you to talk to others just like in the movies.. but he didn't. He didn't even acknowledge you walking over there, so you went in with no air conditioning while you looked around. There was nothing much.. just weed scraps and other various items related to weed. At least you thought.

You looked around the car still, checking the glove box in hopes for something cool but it was just a pocket knife and.. panties?! Why did warren have panties?? Why did they have hello kitty on them.. what the hell?! He didn't have a girlfriend did he? Thoughts flooded your head as you stared at the thing infront of you, your hand not daring to touch them.

What if he had a girlfriend?? Oh god.. that was horrible. You couldn't be some homewrecker. Or a slut.. or just a bitch. It was girl code. But, you were really thinking about if he had fucked another girl. Why did he have the right to do that? He should've been fucking you instead. Using you as he pleased, but he wasn't. He was talking with his stupid "bros".

"Fuck!" You screamed, your hands going to claw at your face. You were so frustrated. Why would he have panties out of all things? Maybe lipgloss would've been better or even a nail, but panties!? Who leaves their panties in their boyfriends car??

Friends with benefits maybe? But still who would do that? He didn't get any girls.. he was considered ugly by everyone else. To you, he was the most beautiful being on this earth. The most hottest—

"What are you doing, man?" Warren knocked on the car window, looking down at you as he saw you going through his glove box. He was obviously worried. That was kind of weird to do.. especially without his permission.

You jumped, your head turning up to warren as you opened your mouth to speak, nothing coming out. Warren opened the car door, it being an obvious gesture for you to get out. You did, and he seemed to know what you saw.

"It was a gift to hang up. Uhm.. Chas got me 'em." He said, leaning back into the car and closing the box before shutting the door, coming out and facing you. "You okay?" He asked, laughing lightly. You stood there, relieved and extremely excited. "Yeah.. I'm good." You smiled, feeling sparks go off in your body. He was single.. hopefully. At least they weren't some girl's panties. That would've been horrible.

Warren's friends realized he had disappeared, so they began to look for him obviously. It wasnt hard, you were just a little long away from them so they called him over, ultimately taking you with him. They laughed and had their fun, and sent Warren out to go do something. You hadn't been paying attention, all you cared about was his face really. And his personality of course.

Warren began to walk out into the dark of the woods, taking no specific path. You were obviously quite worried. Where was he planning on going anyway? No even seemed to care about him leaving.. so naturally you began to follow.

You tried to catch up pretty quickly, making sure to watch your step. That meant you had been looking down at your feet the whole time, so you never looked up to see where Warren was. When you did, he was gone. No where it seemed, and you looked behind you only to find you had ran into the woods... lost.

You cussed to yourself, looking all around you as you realized how dark and scary it was. Now you'd have to call out his name. Or anyone's.. or just scream.

Your breathing quickened as you tried to calm down, your body not helping anything. You turned to the path you were originally taking and ran down it instead. And finally.. you saw Warren's stupid tropical button up and his hair. It was sort of hard to miss, so you ran down, panting as you got behind warren. Warren turned around, jumping a little but now just confused.

"Y/n, what the fuck, man?" He asked, looking down at you with confusion. You stood up and straightened yourself, looking him directly in the eye. "I was uhm.." then, you felt that foul smell hit your nose just like in the car. He had a joint, it smoking up with a little red bud at the end. "I was worried about you." You repeated, smiling slightly. Warren just laughed lightly, sitting down on a huge rock while he smoked.

" 'kay." He nodded, and you just watched him. Warren looked up, the beauty of the midnight sky above. It was a wonderful color, stars littered over it perfectly thanks to being out so far away from the city. Warren looked over to you, laughing again. "Here, have some." He wiggled his eyebrows, pushing out the joint for you to have.

You didn't want to be lame, so you took it and actually took a puff this time. You coughed some, but not as much as before. The effects immediately hit you, and Warren realized this. He laughed some more too, you just laughing with him because his laugh was simply so funny.

You sat on the rock, very close to him as you two giggled. It wasn't controllable really.. it kind of just came out. And you closed your eyes, laughing as you smiled. Warren laughed too, his hand going to set on your thigh. You just kept laughing, until Warren said something.

"Y/n.. y/n, dude calm down." He chuckled lightly, but then he stopped. You stopped too, you two now just looking into each other. Warren didn't say anything more, and you didn't really want to either.

Then, his lips connected with yours with no warning at all. You kissed him back, closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around him as his hands rubbed your thighs. Warren slurped at your mouth almost, making you melt under him. You two were both high, and it just made everything better. The kiss was hot and desperate.. really for the both of you. Warren loved you.. he especially loved your body, but your everlasting love for him always seemed to catch his eye.

You moaned slightly into his lips, his hands going up onto your hips as lewd noises filled the area. Your eyes rolled back at Warren's strong grip on you, forcing you to stay seated. Warren pulled back, panting and cussing under his breath. He put a hand through his hair, giving you the opportunity to get on top of him.

You moved your body to be positioned on his lap, your thighs straddling his hips as you cupped his face, the sexual tension thick. You moved in to kiss him, and he kissed you back as you grinded into him. The slick between your thighs built up as your clit ached for any pleasure. You grinded a little faster, squeaking out a moan from warren as he continued to kiss you.

You two were combined in one, making out and really doing all you could. Warren stopped kissing you and frantically unbuttoned his pants while you unzipped them, not really sure what to do. You had fantasies.. sure.. but you had no idea how to fuck or suck dick. Warren leaned back against the rock, surely expecting you to do something.. but you didn't know what. You were so worked up, but how could you tell him you were a virgin?

"Uhm.." you choked out, looking at his boxers peeking through his flap. You were nervous. You were getting sweaty.. very.. you were afraid. Your head felt heavy and your eyes got foggy. This was so embarrassing. Warren looked up at you, clearly a bit confused. "You o-" you cut him off, "I'm a virgin, warren." You let it out even though it crushed you. You knew he wouldn't be okay with that.. that would just make it weird. Fuck.

"Oh." He leaned up, looking down at his bulge and sighing. He put his hands on your shoulders, looking you straight in the eyes. "Well.. uh.. am I good enough for your first time?" He laughed awkwardly, feeling like he had just led on a kid. It felt weird. He didn't think you were a virgin.. he thought you were a huge chick. Like, you definitely got dick every weekend.. but no. You didn't, which was really confusing.

But as for the question, you nodded. "Yes.. don't think I don't want to.. it's just.. I'm not ruining anything, am i?" You looked up at him, clearly nervous. He felt bad now. But, his boner wasn't going away and he knew that weed had fucked you up. "No. I'll give you a time to remember, sweetheart." He kissed your nose, his hands going to your waist as he swiftly moved ontop of you instead, moving you on the rock.

He began to kiss down your neck, making you squirm a bit. A breathy moan slipped from your lips, your wetness growing. You smelt Warren's hair, the scent filling your nostrils as you sighed, your heartbeat picking up. You had dreamed of this.. and it was actually happening.

A small gasp left your mouth as you felt Warren's hard on press against your thigh. He grinded into you, making you so much hotter than before. It felt you were in an oven.. like you were sun bathing. It was crazy.. and Warren's mouth moved up to your jaw, kissing and sucking before he moved his mouth over your ear. You felt shivers go throughout your body, more coming as his breath hit you right on your neck.

"You play with yourself?" He asked, his hair tickling your cheek. You didn't want to lie. You didn't touch yourself. You never had.. it scared you honestly, and Warren turned his head up, his hand going inside your skirt and creeping up your thighs excruciatingly.

"N-no." You said finally, Warren's fingertip grazing over your clothed slit. He wasn't going to hurt you.. he had to prepare you for him even if he was going to collapse from how hard he was. He didn't have a big ego, or dick really. But, one thing he did know was virgins bled. If they didn't have proper preparation.. or at least that's what some porn skit said. Either way, he was going to make sure it was more pleasurable then painful.

Your breath hitched as one hot finger went beside your panties, moving into your drenched pussy. He smiled feeling how wet you were, and his single finger lined your hole. "You like that?" He asked, knowing the answer. He chuckled lightly, inserting a finger inside your walls, causing you to squirm some. Jesus.. you definitely were a virgin. Your walls hugged him tight, and it even made his dick twitch a little.

He moved his finger inside you slowly, letting you get used to the feeling. You loved it though. Yours hips moved into his finger involuntarily as you moaned slightly, Warren's finger going slightly faster. But, this was one finger. Two would surely hurt.. his dick would hurt more. Maybe he should save it for another time.. maybe you two should've been more than just friends. Or friends with benefits.

So, he took his finger out, licking your arousal off before he began to touch himself. "You think you can take it?" He asked, looking at you with a warm, but desperate look. You had known about some sex things.. oral.. anal.. vaginal.. but that was it. But, if he touched you, maybe you needed to touch him too? Warren moved up on the rock some more, you moving up from your laying position as you looked down at his bulge. Your hand pulled down his pants some, then the boxers came next. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw his bush.. your hand getting so much closer to his cock.

You pulled down his boxers fully, his dick springing a little as a small sigh left Warren's lips. His head went back as he looked back down, almost like that had been too much. You felt the urge to apologize, but you didn't in order to keep the mood. You stared at his raging red tip for a moment, swallowing slightly as you drooled at the sight. Your body reacted fast. Your pussy began to clench around nothing, your clit making you feel light as you stared some more.

Your hand finally moved up to his dick, your small hand barely able to wrap around him. You hesitated for a moment, but you clenched your hand around him, straining a moan. His breathing quickened from the warmth of your hand and you felt your stomach churn from your need. The slick was building up so much more and you felt as if you could die. Regardless, your hand began to move up and down his length, a breath of air coming out of his mouth as he calmed himself down.

The stimulation was so much. So so much.. it made him squirm. The way your hand felt around him was unbelievable. Never in a million years would he think you'd feel so nice. Your soft hands touching him was so much better than his hand. His rough, large, veiny hand. He pulled up his shirt some, revealing his v line as his head shot back from the pleasure. Your hand went faster, little slick noises coming from his dick. You stared at it. You couldn't really not stare. It was hard for you to even focus with how.. beautiful it was. It wasn't gross or shaped weird.. it was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Warren smiled, looking down at your hand as you stared. His size grew in your hand.. it becoming sort of scary. You were sure it wouldn't fit. You were sure he would say "we should just be friends" in the end. You knew something like that would happen.

And the reason was ridiculous. You knew this was too good to be true. You'd wake up any moment.. You'd have to, but that moment never came. Never would either. And that thought began to register.

Warren kept looking at your hand, it going faster and faster. You looked up at him, sort of worried in a way, but he still had that smile as waved of pleasure shot through his body. He moaned, and you felt butterflies as you smiled some. Your eyes shifted back to his cock, the tip now leaking white. It wasn't much, but soon it began to drip down the side.. following one of the veins.

"Fuck.." Warren said under his breath, looking at his dick as his head shot back again. You kept your hand around him, but you didn't move it. You just looked before your hand went up in one swift movement and took the cum off, making Warren moan some. He twitched a little, some more cum seeping out, but he didn't care. He pulled you up, kissing you one last time before your session was interrupted.

"Yo! Warren?" One guy yelled, but you soon identified it to be Chas. You looked back, jumping off Warren as he did the same, pulling his pants up quickly. Chas was walking closer by the second, but Warren didn't want this to end. Never really, so he whispered 4 words that you'd remember for the rest of your life.

"Go to the car." He patted your back, adjusting his pants a little before walking up the path, meeting Chas as he looked at you. "What's she doing here?" He asked, pointing as he looked at Warren. He just shook his head, walking up the makeshift path as Chas followed. Warren's hand made a movement, sort of a wave, and you began to catch up as your head felt so much heavier now.

You felt like you were on top of the world. Like you were the coolest, and best person ever. The feeling of the man you loved since middle school saying meet at the car felt nice. Especially just giving him a handjob.. that was wonderful. Now, you could actually imagine something right before you went to sleep at night. Or just scenarios..

– few minutes later

You were sitting in the car, the seat sort of hot. Your thighs were very hot, so you assumed it was that. You didn't really do much. You just sat there while you occasionally looked up to see warren talking. But, the last time you looked he was gone. And instead, he was opening the door.

"They think we're getting beer." Warren said, starting the car before he began to back out of the space. You turned to him, only thinking about his dick. "They think? So what are we gonna do?" You knew exactly what you two were going to do, and Warren just turned his head to you, laughing slightly. "You know exactly what's gonna happen, don't even." He shut that down immediately and the scenery changed from trees and woods to sketchy roads. You stared at the road infront of you, leaning your arm on the car door as you watched.

Warren then pulled over, a spot in the woods but awfully close to the road. You turned to him, and he immediately crawled over the barrier between you two and began to kiss you deeply once more. You kissed back, Warren's hands traveling all over your body as whimpers and little moans escaped your mouth. Warren loved those noises you made.. Your wonderful noises. "Get in the back." Warren said in between a kiss, him settling back in his seat as he began to undo his button up and pants. He stripped in the front of the car, you moving in the back while you began to pull of your skirt.

It had been a nice day to wear your pink panties, but Warren loved them. He loved what was under them too.

Once the two of you were basically stripped the to skin, he crawled into the backseat with you, placing you down on the fabric as he began to kiss you once more. His hands kneaded your tits through your croptop, but they eventually slipped under it and had free roam. You moaned into his mouth, the kiss feeling hot and steamy as his thumbs played with your nipples. "Fuck.. You're so hot.." he mumbled, pulling from you and looking at your panties. He licked his lips, his body moving down a bit before he moved your legs up, folding you in half as he looked at the wet spot on your panties.

"Oh sweetheart.." he cooed, your body beginning to feel so much more hot than before. You were practically melting under him.. it was so much. And you just watched as he began to pull up your panties, revealing your hot slick. "Wait.." you said quickly, looking up at him as you began to feel worry on top of the arousal. "What if someone sees us?" You were starting to doubt this. Why didn't you two just go somewhere more secluded? Like an abandoned parking lot or something.. "then let them watch." He smiled, pulling your panties off completely before throwing them in the bottom of the car. He looked at your folds, his right hand going down to pump himself as he stared.

It was enough to make him cum, really. Your body was beautiful.. a masterpiece even. He thought he was so lucky to be fucking you, bur you thought the opposite. You were so obsessed with him. He was something you thought about every day.. every single day. He was the reason you dressed so nicely. The reason you took commitment into makeup.. the man you wanted to impress. And it seemed to work.

"You ready?" He asked, his dick moving up to be right on top of your folds. You nodded sheepishly, choking down some saliva as you felt your body grow much more nervous. You felt his tip align with your entrance, and finally push in. You gasped softly, feeling his tip push in more, eventually going much deeper and hitting your cervix. Your breath hitched as his size stretched you, warren biting down on his lip as he felt how tight you were. "Jesus, you're tight.. You're really tight.. fuck.." he began to move in and out of you slowly, each time making warren closer to his orgasm. You clenched around him, your body barely able to handle his size.

You were a virgin.. this was a lot. Literally. His dick was so big, and as he began to thrust into you, you felt your pussy feel so much wetter. Warren knew this, and he knew it was just a natural thing. Most virgins bled, but you just provided more slick for him to work with, which was wonderful. It made him easier to slip into you, so he used it to his advantage as he began to go faster.

You moaned some, Warren's hands clutching your knees to your chest as he went a little faster, his eyes going shut as he reveled in the pleasure. He cussed under his breath, your lewd noises growing so much louder as the skin of yours and his slammed into each other.

"Warren!" You screamed, your eyes rolling into your head as he went at an unbearable pace. Soon, the both of you were cussing to yourselves as your orgasms came much closer, and finally the both of you came. Warren was quick to pull out, his cum spraying all over your stomach as you both panted, taking in the sight. Warren twitched some again, his hot cum feeling like a trophy. The view was great. You couldn't lie.

Seeing his dick slowly become softer made butterflies appear in your stomach, and you just sighed. Your head going back as you closed your eyes. Warren collapsed on top of you, sighing as well.

"We should probably go get that beer now."

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

This took so long omg. Yall better like this or I'm gonna die and shrivel up

But ty for reading!! Still not sure what the word count is but I'm hoping it's more than 2k.

Taglist: @kaismanwich @tatelangdonsgirll @daylas-life @hyperharlz @kaiju-superstar @howtobesasha @luttic

#evan peters #evan peters characters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters smut #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x reader #evan peters x female reader #warren lipka x reader #warren lipka #warren lipka x you

[abiiors]

sfw alphabet ❣️ // matty healy x reader

a/n: there is one story in here that is based on true events from my life hehehe. also while we're here i'd like to say that i tried veryyyy hard to keep it strictly sfw but some innuendos did slip through lol cw: mostly fluff, very brief mentions of addiction. brief mentions of morning sickness, some angst but it's very tame overall wc: 5.6k

a = affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

matty’s like if you fed a stray cat that one time five months ago—meaning, he’s going to be the most affectionate person ever if you show him even one act of kindness. it doesn’t matter what your relationship to him is, it’s just a given at this point that if you’re close to him, he’s going to go above and beyond for you. 

you get your first taste of it when you show up to his house, on the verge of tears and a panic attack from the stress of an upcoming deadline. it’s three weeks into dating, you’re barely even sure if you should be bothering him with your silly little problems (even though later he would scold you for calling them silly little problems). 

matty opens the door, takes one look at your face, and instantly pull you into a hug. 

“oh, darling, what’s wrong?” his voice is full of concern and you suspect there’s a giant frown on his face. 

“everything!”

a little giggle slips out of him and he has to press his mouth shut when you look up at him with a betrayed pout. 

“everything? hmm, we gotta do something about that then, don’t we?”

and then that’s exactly what he does. 

“should we light a fire?” matty asks once he’s got you a glass of wine (your favourite that he found out about and now always keeps on hand) “you love a good fire.”

“and we can read together?”

“anything you want, baby!”

and even though his face twists into an expression of instant regret as soon as he says it, matty still proceeds to make a fire while you set up blankets and pillows on the sofa. he knows exactly what’s coming though (no seriously, he fondly likes to call your kindle unlimited subscription the bane of his existence)

still, twenty minutes later, snuggled up next to you and cringing through every bad sex scene, he can’t complain. not when he gets to bury his head in the crook of your neck and hear you laugh at his reactions.

b = best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?)

loyal to a fault!!!

you can pinpoint the actual date the two of you became friends—years and years and years ago, practically decades at this point, at the ripe old age of fourteen, you got into your first fight. 

you can’t remember how the fight started or who it was with. all you know if there were a few words, someone pulling your hair and the next thing you know, you were on the ground, trying to hit any vulnerable spot you could find. 

the memories after that are fuzzy—you, school uniform undone, dried blood on your split lip, toeing the grass outside your school and trying not to look nervous. what if some teacher saw it? 

you didn’t throw the first punch! what if—

“you look like you could use a fag!” a voice cuts through. it’s a boy you’ve sometimes seen around school. black hair (awfully straightened), a unibrow, thick black glasses, always surrounded by the same three boys. 

“i don’t smoke,” you counter and go back to torturing the poor grass. 

“i didn’t ask if you smoked, just said you look like you could use one.”

what. a. fucking. twat!

still, you aren’t much in the mood for an argument. “don’t wanna get in trouble.”

the boy shrugs. “you’re already in trouble, mate. but whatever.”

he’s about to leave when you grab his arm. “no wait. why are you being nice to me?”

at that, he grins. “are you joking? we all saw what you did to sam! biggest fucking bully in class and you looked like a badass putting him in his place.”

“wait, really? you really think that?” 

“ask george,” (you don’t know who george is) “or ross or adam,” (you don’t know who they are either) “we all think you’re fucking cool.”

that makes you smile too. you hiss quickly though, smiling with a split lip hurts but he extends the cigarette to you once again. 

and this time, you accept it gladly.

c = cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

clingiest man in the whole wide world!!! he has to be attached to you at all times otherwise he’s gonna have that horrendously sad little pout on his face all day. 

if you’re just at home, watching something on tv then his head is on your boobs (or in your lap but boobs is preferred though) while you play with his hair. every once in a while he nuzzles his face between them and says something that suspiciously sounds like “comfy”

he’s cute though! and it’s not always sexual. you love the fact that he feels so much adoration for you. 

if you’re in bed though, you end up being the little spoon because he absolutely loves to flop on you and cover you with his entire body. he’s deliciously warm and smells so incredible (and he smells like home to you). you’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve fallen asleep like that—with his face buried in your neck, his stubble scratching the skin. and even when his arm falls asleep, he won’t make you move your head at the risk of waking you up.

d = domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

he is a brilliant house-husband (and that’s a title he’s claimed on his own).

“no, go sit down babe, let me take care of that for you” or “let me cook for you tonight” or “should i do the laundry while you finish your movie?” are definitely regular matty sentences arround the house. 

the few weeks when he’s just gotten back from a tour and wants to do nothing but sleep all day long are probably the only time you do all the chores while he’s also in the house. he does get huffy when he realises you didn’t wake him up and ask for help.

“i could’ve hoovered,” he pouts but it melts away quickly when you pull him into a kiss. 

“i know you could have, love, but you looked so peaceful sleeping i didn’t wanna bother you!”

he isn’t very happy about that but he silently vows to stay up and help you the next time.

e = ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

he doesn’t want to let go no matter how much the relationship deteriorates. he knows he can fix this and turn back time and bring back the spark. he knows the weekly fights are just a phase, he knows you love him so much! 

deep down, he also knows he’s delusional.

you’re sleeping in two different rooms again, you in the guest bedroom, and he’s in your cold, empty bed. and there’s no way he can sleep that night judging by all the tossing and turning he’s done so far. your latest fight echoes in his head—all the nasty things he said, all the vile things you responded with. 

just fuck off then, and don’t bother me again! those were your last words of the night before you slammed the door shut and the loud, defining thud echoed through the whole house. 

when morning finally arrives, he knows he has to do it. 

he knows he owes you at least this much. to break it off with dignity. to salvage whatever shreds of friendship and love that remain between you. 

“we need to talk,” he says as soon as you enter the kitchen, eyes swollen and red and surrounded by bags. lips dry and chapped. 

still, you nod. and matty extends you a steaming mug of coffee for the last time.

f = fiance(e) (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

he is so down to commit! 

he’s started planning a proposal like a year into the relationship. he hasn’t bought the ring yet or anything! in fact, he’s not going to buy a ring at all. not when he plans on giving you his grandmother’s precious ring that she wore every single day until the day she died. 

however, he knows the timing's not right. you’re both so busy and you’ve just started a new job. he has a few more tours coming up for the next two years. and well, he has his best friend’s wedding coming up soon, he’s not about to be the dickhead that proposes at someone else’s wedding. 

so matty keeps the proposal contained to his day dreams. 

he knows it’s going to be at home (he knows how much you despise public proposals) and he knows it’s going to be during the golden hour when you cuddle into him like a sleepy cat. he loves this routine—you, sleepy and gasping for a nap, plopping onto him when he’s just doing his own thing in the living room. 

he loves how content you look in the dying light of the sun. how happy and beautiful and utterly perfect. 

and matty knows, when he eventually gets down on one knee and asks you to marry him, that’s when it’s going to have to be!

g = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

so incredibly gentle!

you can’t remember a single time matty’s ever raised his voice at you. he used to be your pretty, dainty boy but he’s started working out now and he’s got muscles (which you find extremely hot. he’s also got a cute little bubble butt that you love to slap). it’s not that he’s unaware of his own strength but now he puts extra effort in being gentler if you two ever get into a play fight. 

he makes sure to never fully pin you down (unless you ask for it 👀) or put his whole weight on you. 

h = hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

he loves them on most days. 

his hugs are always the absolute best! it’s like being surrounded by all things matty—his cologne and aftershave, his arms, the softness of his shirt and the feel of his chin on top of your head. you think a hug from matty is the closest you’ll ever come to having a universal cure for every ailment ever. 

on some days he gets quite overstimulated though. you can see it on his face when every single sensation becomes a bit too much and as much as you want to bundle him up, you try to give him his space. to let him calm down a bit. you can always just sit there and hold his hand if that’s all the touch he can bear for the moment. 

i = i love you (how fast do they say the l-word?)

one month in, completely on accident!

you’re sick with the bubonic plague (a cold) and rotting in bed, surrounded by used tissues, half-empty cups of lemsip, and your trusty little comfort plush. matty’s in full nurse mode, despite you telling him that it’s nothing, you’ll be fine if he left. 

it’s only when george calls him for something work related that he relents. 

“let me check your fever one last time before i go,” he insists and you roll your eyes. but you have no other choice but to give in. it’s a 100 degrees, exactly what it was an hour ago. not too bad at all, but matty frowns. 

“i’ll be back in a few hours, darling, you have to promise to call me if you need anything okay?”

“i will!” you croak out and wince when your throat protests. “now go.”

he holds his hands up in surrender and bends down to press a kiss on your head. 

“don’t wanna get you sick matty,” you try to protest weakly but even then you know it’s useless. he’s going to do whatever he wants. 

“go to sleep now,” he says, “i’ll see you soon. i love you!” and then he leaves. 

ten minutes later, when it finally registers in your fever addled brain, your entire body goes cold. did he—

did you hear it right? no… it’s just the fever right? you’re sick! that must be it. 

little do you know, matty had to sit down outside your room for a good two minutes before he could leave the house. and now that he’s in the studio, distractedly working on producing a track, he can’t stop grinning like an idiot.

j = jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

he used to get soooo jealous back when you were “just friends”! (he still is, he just thinks he hides it better)

the first time you really clock it is when you bring a friend to one of their shows. you know sean’s been a fan of theirs for a bit and frankly, you’re quite excited about introducing him to the band. 

matty, however, is as far away from excitement as one can get. 

he tries to mask his unease, and greets you with a forced smile. “heard you were our special guest, mate,” he nods in sean’s direction and puts his arm around your waist. “hope you enjoyed the show?”

if sean finds any of it weird, he doesn’t say it. he’s smiles bashfully and gushes about how much fun it’s been. you, on the other hand…

“matty…?” you say as soon as you get a moment alone with him. 

he’s outside smoking a cigarette staring off into the distance. his jaw looks sharper than it usually does, his lips are pursed in a straight line. you take a deep breath, contemplating whether to address the obvious tension or let it slide. the distant city lights flicker in the background as you approach him, and he finally turns his attention towards you, exhaling a plume of smoke.

"alright?" your tone is a mix of concern and curiosity. when his eyes meet yours, for a moment, it feels like he's searching for the right words.

he shrugs, attempting a nonchalant smile. but you can see through it. so you fold your arms, giving him a knowing look.

matty sighs, stubbing out his cigarette. he leans against the venue's brick wall, avoiding direct eye contact. “thought we were going out for drinks later. just us two you know?”

ahhhh. so that’s what it is. 

a tiny tendril of something shoots through your stomach, does something funny to your entire body. 

“we are,” you try to stifle a smile. “do you not want to anymore?”

“what? no!” matty sputters, “i mean, yes! of course, i want to get drinks with you, i just thought…”

“you just thought?”

“well you brought a… friend.”

it becomes almost impossible to hide a smile then, and matty narrows his eyes. “you’re laughing at me,” he accuses and narrows his eyes further when you burst into a fit of giggles. 

“he’s going home in a bit,” you manage to recover a bit. “you’re stuck with just me i’m afraid.”

that makes matty shake his head and you can finally see a tiny smile peaking through. 

“just you… hmm,” he teases. “guess i’ll have to make do with that.”

k = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

his kisses always leave you a little breathless. 

it doesn’t matter if it’s your first kiss of the day or if he’s been particularly affectionate or if he’s kissed you all over the face—you somehow always end up giggling like a teenager with a crush with your head spinning slightly.

l = little ones (how are they around children?)

so good, it gives you immense baby fever for the next few weeks. 

it’s three months into your relationship when his mum insists you spend christmas with their family and you agree to it happily!

his entire family is there! his mum and step-father, his brother and his girlfriend, his dad, his step-brother who’s just had a baby. and that’s the moment you know you’re about to suffer from raging baby fever. 

the whole weekend matty is absolutely adorable with the baby. you see him offer to take care of her and feed and change her, you see him making her laugh and smile, but it’s when you see him singing her to sleep, that’s when you truly lose it. 

matty doesn’t even know you’re watching him, he's completely immersed in singing his own rendition of you are my sunshine while the baby stares at him with sleepy eyes. but it almost makes you weep when she clutches his finger in her tiny hand and starts to dose off. 

the image lingers in the forefront of your mind even when you’re trying to sleep, being spooned by matty and under a cosy duvet. so much so that you have to turn around and bury your face in his chest to stop yourself from squealing at the cuteness. 

he’s long asleep by then though. all he does is tighten his hold around you and you’re left to dream of a tiny baby with your eyes and matty’s curls. 

m = morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

when you’re not getting off to… other things… mornings are usually very calm and chill. more often than not, one of you wakes the other with a steaming mug of coffee. if it’s a busy day and you don’t have much time to be lazy and cuddly, you just chat about your plans for the day while having coffee and some breakfast. 

if it is a lazy day, however, breakfast usually turns into brunch in bed, followed by a nice, long bath full of bubbles!

n = night (how are nights spent with them?)

nights are just as sweet and way more cuddly. 

both of you have a little ritual of reading in bed before going to sleep if you aren’t… otherwise occupied. still, he loves to just sit there and listen to you talk about your day or your work in general. 

it always makes you laugh how excited he gets about any work gossip you might have for him. 

overall, your nights together are so relaxing and sweet and genuinely make you appreciate him so much more.

o = open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

in all fairness you knew much more about matty than he knew about you. he’s always been so open about his friendships and music and all his struggles, still, you knew hearing it from him first hand was going to be different. and you also expected it to take some time. 

he doesn’t reveal it all at once though, he thinks he’s trying to make it more palatable for you if he talks about stuff bit by bit. 

you’re special to him. he doesn’t want to scare you away by trauma dumping outright! it takes him a bit to open up completely, even when you show him nothing but support. but the more he shares with you, the deeper he falls in love. the more it becomes clear to him that you’re here to stay. 

p = patience (how easily angered are they?)

anger isn’t the right word for it really! mostly he just gets annoyed sometimes—like a sweet little toddler with his cheeks puffed up it’s almost funny if it wasn’t so downright adorable. he can’t stay annoyed though! one kiss from you (even though it’s usually multiple in quick succession. a strategic attack really!) his annoyance melts away like butter on toast.

q = quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

matty’s like a walking encyclopaedia for trivia related to you and your relationship! he might not remember what he ate for dinner the night before, but he remembers exactly what earrings you wore for your music awards with him.

you do cheekily quiz him sometimes, and matty just smirks like an insufferable twat. “you can try all you want, love, you can’t best me at this game.” he grins. 

“oh yeah? that’s a lot of cockiness healy!”

“go on then, quiz me!” he challenges and you smirk back. 

“what did i say before i kissed you for the first time? four years ago that is! i need it verbatim, babe.”

for a moment he looks speechless and the smile on your face widens. it was four years ago after all. you’ve had infinite kisses since then, there’s no way he remembers. definitely not verbatim. 

matty stalks closer. “you said…” he drawls between one long stride and the next and then he’s right there in front of you, mouth hovering over yours. so close your lips are almost touching. the air between you two feels charged with lightning. 

“you said, you wanted to do this, and i quote ‘since the first time you fixed my smudged lipstick with your thumb’.” and before you have the chance to even react, he’s crashing his mouth on yours, smiling against your lips.

r = remember (what is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

it’s been fondly dubbed as “the mayhem disaster”. 

one morning you hear matty go, “no, no, no, mayhem!” you put your book aside, and sit up to listen the curses that follow. 

“everything alright?” you call out, confused and curious. 

“babe, can you come here a sec?” he responds, making you groan into your cosy cocoon you'd made for yourself. it rained all night before, and now the weather’s just the perfect combination of gloomy and cosy—perfect to cuddle with your boyfriend all day. 

which is what you had been doing until ten minutes ago when matty had to get up to let mayhem out into the backyard. 

you turn the corner into the living room only to freeze in your tracks and slap your hand on your mouth, still failing to stifle the loud gasp that leaves you. 

in front of you sits matty, on the floor, his head in his hands and next to him stands mayhem. except his gorgeous black fur is now fully covered and matted with mud

behind him, you can see muddy tracks and stray leaves he's brought in. 

“oh no…” you don’t know if you should laugh or cry at the scene in front of you. 

“baby…” you coo softly, both at matty and mayhem, “what happened?”

“he ran straight for a puddle the second i let him out, didn’t you, you twat?” he scolds the pup making you tsk. 

that makes him laugh though. shaking his head, matty gets off the floor. 

“well, come on you, straight to the bathroom,” he points a finger in the vague direction. 

when the two of you finally manage to get him in the tub, matty starts running a bath while you rummage through the cabinet for pet shampoo. 

“be a good boy now,” you scratch mayhem behind his ear, grimacing at the mud that’s now under your fingernails. 

you crouch down to his level, softly grabbing his face and about to start cleaning. but of course, he takes it as an invitation to play and begins nuzzling you with his head, trying to climb on you. 

matty laughs, making absolutely no move to help you. mayhem, covered in mud, tries to climb on you as you try to set him back into the tub gently. but it’s far too late, you’re already covered in mud.

“fuck! my favourite t-shirt!” you whine, looking down at yourself in despair. 

“it’s not even yours,” matty laughs while you scowl at him. “besides,” he waggles his eyebrows, “you can always take it off.”

“pervert,” you laugh at him and then proceed to take it off in one fluid motion and chuck it at his face. 

your eyes widen when the t-shirt slides off his face, leaving a perfectly round muddy mark on his cheek.

“you got mud on my face, didn’t you?” he dips a hand in the tub and you know what’s coming. “didn’t you?!” he asks again before splashing a handful of water on you. 

you squeal as he grabs your waist, pulling you closer, rubbing his cheek against your face, neck, chest. 

“matty!” you laugh, trying to get away from him but he holds on tight. “get her, mayhem, get her,’ he giggles and the puppy covers you in wet kisses once again.

s = security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

he’s always been protective of you, especially when you’re in public. he doesn’t have to worry about the fans being rude or agressive, but the same can’t be said about random photographers and tabloids.

you thought you knew the extent of his protectiveness. all of that changed the moment you found out you were expecting. 

you thought you knew his mother hen tendencies inside and out, turns out you were absolutely dead wrong! matty hovers. so. much. 

he’s there, holding your hair every time you find yourself throwing up. he’s there cancelling on appointments and on the boys on days he deems the morning sickness “too serious”. most of all, he won’t let you go up or down the stairs alone. at all. 

“i’m pregnant, matty, not an invalid!” you whine one evening when you feel him hovering behind you as you make your way up the stairs. 

“i know,” he drags it out as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “i’m just making extra sure.”

your eye twitches. “making sure of what? that the stair monster doesn’t get me?”

you kow he’s rolling his eyes without being able to see his face. “alright, smartarse. i meant more if you got dizzy halfway up or down the stairs.”

“i’ll sit down!”

he hmphs, completely dismissing that logic. 

“baby, the stairs have a railing for a reason!”

he hmphs again. “didn’t know it was a crime to make sure my girls were safe!”

that makes you sigh. this is a petty squabble—it’s not your first, it certainly won’t be your last. once you reach the top of the stairs, you turn to face him with another long sigh. “look, baby, i appreciate the concern, but i'm not made of glass. i can handle a flight of stairs without a chaperone.”

“indulge me, okay! we can have this argument every time, or you can just ignore my presence when you’re going up or down the stairs. either way, i’m going to hover.”

“matty!”

but you know it’s useless. besides, his stubbornness is almost endearing. and between that and the pampering that comes with the protectiveness, you might as well just give up your stance now… 

t = try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he puts in so much thought! it has been like this since date one—since he made sure to accommodate your likes and dislikes and food preferences in finding the perfect place to eat. even after all these years, he takes his time to plan out everything. even if it’s just an at home pamper day for you while he does all the chores. 

u = ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

it’s a low hanging fruit but… the excessive smoking annoys you sometimes. especially because his voice is his job. you’ve told him multiple times to tone it down a little and it’s not like he doesn’t listen. it just… doesn’t always stick.

v = vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

depends on where he has to go and what the occasion is. he’ll be dressed to the nines if he has to accompany you to a party or an event but usually he’s fine being in soft comfy clothes that keep him cosy 

w = whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

yes! 

this literally needs zero explanation. 

x = xtra (a random headcanon for them.)

pots and pans clatter; great, banging sounds first thing in the morning in an otherwise serene kitchen. it wouldn’t be like this, not really but you’re both incredibly sleepy. two figures, one tall and hunched over, the other smaller, softer. cuddled into him. the kitchen is awash in the early morning light, too early if you were to be asked  but you’re okay with it. you’re happy and content as long as you get to stay stuck to matty’s side. 

he cracks an egg. 

“a sunny side up? still want that?” he asks and then laughs to himself. it’s an inside joke to him because, in the end, you’re going to end up stealing the eggs on his plate (a soft scramble) and accuse him of putting more care into his breakfast. which is exactly why he does it; puts more love into “his” breakfast that is. he knows you’re going to end up stealing it.  

“can’t have you changing your mind again, darling.” matty ruffles your hair affectionately and tugs at the claw clip holding them together. they cascade down your shoulders; messy, frizzy and big. 

this early morning everything is a bit fuzzy; your head, your thoughts. “mmm,” you respond. a sleepy little hmm. it’s quite possibly a yes, or it could be a “hold on i’m still thinking” or even a “don’t really feel like eggs anymore”. in all your years together, deciphering your hmms has been his biggest challenge. 

“alright then,” a pause. you cuddle closer simply because his t-shirt is soft and he is very warm. this early in the morning you have no sense of anything else but the familiar warmth and the sizzling of the pan. 

“i’ll make some coffee for us,” you volunteer and move away. 

the bubbling of the kettle almost puts you back to sleep; it’s soothing, rhythmic. but you keep yourself occupied. your favourite mugs are always hung side by side. his is comically large, in the shape of a pint glass; you always tease him about not being able to finish the coffee, about always finding cold remnants at the bottom of the mug. 

yours on the other hand looks more like a bowl; soft pink with tiny daisies all over it. you like holding it in both hands and cuddling it close to soak up some of the liquid’s warmth. on days that are especially cold, matty calls it your “emotional support mug”. and it is. 

“okay we have to time this,” you announce and carefully pour hot water into the french press. so now he has about four minutes to finish the eggs. that’s alright, four minutes is all he needs.

“get the plates for us, would you?” he asks, bumping his hip into yours. it’s partly to wake you up some more, partly because he’s not very coordinated first thing in the morning either. 

you’re about to grumble. getting the plate means leaving your comfy spot and having to open the door, dig around, close it again; so much work really. but matty is quicker. he knows this grumble is coming and he knows a tiny kiss on your nose always does wonders. 

unfair really, that he should know you that well. 

“hmm,”  you huff and start the trek to the cabinet. matty snickers at the way you drag your feet, like a child being told to clean her room. always a grump before you’ve had some food and caffeine. 

“such a grump,” he teases, “c’mere.” 

when you stop in front of him, two plates in hand, he immediately sets them aside and pulls you close. your eyes are droopy, soft and sleepy. there’s no resistance when he tilts your chin and kisses you sweetly; a lingering soft kiss. 

then he holds the steaming mug of coffee in front of you. 

it’s as if the aroma makes you come alive; you perks up instantly, eyes finally open and hands reaching to cradle the bowl-like mug, to hold it close to your chest. you don't just drink the coffee, you indulge in it. 

“right!’ you speak after a few sips, and proceed to steal his eggs.

y = yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

snobbiness is a big no no. he really hates it when people retend like they’re better than someone else just because they have more fame or success or money. 

he would absolutely despise himself if he ever turned into that person. and regardless of who he’s with at the moment, he makes sure that they don’t possess that quality. 

z = zzz (what is a sleep habits of theirs?)

so erratic it’s worrying sometimes. 

you tried to figure out if he was a night owl or a morning bird but it’s genuinely so unpredictable that you had to give up after a few weeks later. 

one thing remains consistent though, wherever he is, he won’t go to bed without talking to you and telling you he loves you! even if he’s on the other side of the world, calling you with sleepy eyes and drooping curls while you hold your morning cup of coffee. even if he’s just got back home at 2 am and you’re already fast asleep. matty makes sure to whisper a little i love you and place a kiss on your head before he goes to bed. 

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[pedropascallme]

Didn’t You Miss My Voice?

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: “‘I miss you, too.’ You sighed, ‘Wanna show you, Damien.’ You kicked the sheets off your lower half, sending them down the bed and letting your legs spread slightly in anticipation. ‘Can I show you how much I miss you?’”

Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation (f & m), praise, kinda soft!Dom Damien, panty sniffing involved i repeat panty sniffing involved!! Damien wants to fuck you so bad it makes him look stupid. If I missed anything please let me know!

When he left for PAX East, he had taken one of your sweatshirts, worn it on the plane to self-soothe, and planned to sleep in it or near it the next few nights so he could dream that you were closer. 

Damien liked having something of yours nearby. On days or weeks that he was away, he packed any article of clothing of yours that he could, just to be able to envision you nearby.

It had started accidentally, after he packed a shirt of yours that looked near identical to one of his for a con. From then on it had become second nature to bring along something of yours for the allotted time that he would be away from home—away from you—so that he didn’t get as homesick. He didn’t think you had even noticed; the five shirts he wore on rotation could never compare to the dozens of various outfits that overflowed from your dresser.

He was fully convinced that his thievery had gone unnoticed by you. So, when he opened his suitcase on day three of being away, rooting around in it to find something comfortable to sleep in, and felt something silken and lacy at his fingertips instead of the flannel pajama pants he was expecting, he couldn’t help the genuine shock that hit him. Damien pushed the surrounding heap of his own clothes away and pulled out the piece of fabric that he had come across.

He held up the soft pink panties, swallowing upon recognizing them as the ones you had worn the night before he left; how you’d ground your hips against his and let him pull the lacy material to the side so that he could see how pretty you looked in them while you came undone on his cock.

He felt lightheaded.

The blood must’ve rushed elsewhere.

There was a note safety-pinned to the waistband, and he undid the clip before letting himself read what it said.

I miss you. Call me when you find these? <3

Your handwriting made his heart swell. God, he missed you. Even after only three days, he missed you so much.

Damien hurried to your contact in his phone. You picked up on the first ring.

“I was waiting for this call.” He could hear your smile, imagining the way your lips curled against the phone’s mic. You had been in bed when he called, his smell lingering on the pillow you had tucked under your head.

“You’re too good to me,” Damien could feel the heat rising in his face, “You’re really, really, too good to me.”

“Thought I hadn’t caught on to your light robbery?”

“Are you accusing me of a crime?” He laughed, and the sound made you feel warm. 

“I’m just saying, there are only so many times I can misplace a shirt that suddenly reappears when you come home until I begin to suspect something.” You giggled, hoping he knew you weren’t at all mad. “It’s cute, actually. You know that?” 

“Me?” He returned the lighthearted banter. He held your underwear in a closed fist, keeping them close to his chest. “What, uh—what made me so deserving of this…gift?” His voice got deeper on the last word, and you bit your lip. 

“Didn’t want you to leave without a reminder of what was waiting for you at home.”

“I have your sweatshirt, baby.” He sat on the mattress, reaching out with his hand still wrapped around your panties to touch the hoodie he’d taken from you, laid out next to him on the bed. “And even if I didn’t, you know I’m always thinking of you.”

“I know,” you verified, “But I like making sure. Didn't you miss my voice, baby?”

“I know,” he echoed your words. “And I did—I do. Miss your voice. I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” You sighed, “Wanna show you, Damien.” You kicked the sheets off your lower half, sending them down the bed and letting your legs spread slightly in anticipation. “Can I show you how much I miss you?”

Damien had to stifle a groan, already eager from just the sound of your voice and the way you whined his name. “Yeah? You want to show me?”

You nodded, before remembering he couldn’t see you. “Yes—yeah.”

Though he was reluctant to put your panties down, he managed to part with them briefly before undoing his fly with one hand. His other hand gripped his phone, knuckles going white as he tried to make up for the physical absence. He brought his hand up when he finished unfastening his jeans, retrieving your panties from the spot he’d left them in on the bed. He brought them to his face and inhaled the piquant scent; sharp and stimulating and perfect—just like you—in a way that your sweatshirt could never replicate. He hesitated to wrap his hand around his cock, palming himself through his boxers to make this last as long as he could draw it out for. “You gonna listen to what I say even though I’m not home?”

“Always.” Your response was immediate, and he could tell by the strain in your voice that you were just as needy as he was. “I promise.”

“That’s my good girl,” He squeezed his bulge, still trying to exercise patience and allow himself time to play with you. “I’m giving you permission to touch, baby. One finger, can you do that for me? Rub your clit nice and slow?”

“Yeah.” You whimpered into the phone, thrilled by the way his voice lowered when he talked you through the act. You let out a small gasp when you touched yourself—half for show, and half because you’d been good while he was gone, not allowing yourself to play with what was his. You were sensitive in the most premier of ways.

“How’s that feel?” He asked, biting his tongue upon hearing your moans.

“Good,” you murmured.

“Better than when I do it?” His eyelids felt heavy, the sound of your quiet, breathy noises acting like a sort of relaxant. 

“No—not at all. Miss your hands. Miss how you touch me.” You picked up the pace just a bit, trying to find the proper rhythm.

“Is that what you’re thinking about, princess?” He smiled, eyes closing as he finally let himself remove his cock from his boxers. “You want me to touch you?”

“Yes,” you found the proper tempo, rolling your finger over your clit in double-time with your breathing. “Come home, Damien, want your hands.”

He moaned, loving how quickly your power play had turned into you begging for him, and he wished more than anything that he could give you what you needed. He held himself at the base, teasing himself with your sounds and the light touch of his own fingers. “I’ll give you whatever you want when I come home, baby, I promise.”

“Want your hands, and your mouth—want your cock.” You pleaded, still using one finger to massage yourself, unwavering in your commitment to follow his orders.

“You can have all of me, princess—are you getting yourself all wet? How about you use your one finger and tell me how soaked you are.”

“I can put it in?” You corroborated, making sure you had permission.

“Go ahead, baby. Play with that needy pussy for me.” Damien wrapped the panties you’d sent with him around the base of his cock. He dragged the fabric up and down over himself to find some relief, coating himself with the residue of the last time he got to fuck you before leaving for the week.

You trailed your finger up your slit, collecting the slick that coated the lips of your cunt, before pushing into your entrance. You whined, and Damien pulled your panties tighter around his cock.

“Doesn’t—not as big as yours.” You complained, curling your finger against the tender spot inside of you and wishing it was his hand pressed against your cunt.

“I know, baby, but you’re doing so good.” He reassured, watching the pink fabric of your underwear as he pulled it over his length, the quiver in your words making him think of all the ways he could fuck you until you lost your voice from crying out for him. Maybe he’d have you bouncing up and down on him in the same way that he moved your panties over his cock. “You can add another finger, how about that? Is that what you need?”

“Yes, please.”

“Go ahead, princess, use two.” He listened intently at the way your breath hitched when you pushed a second finger into your hole; he could tell you had him on speaker, the squelch of your fingers thrusting into your wet cunt were amplified. He let out a quiet moan of your name, wrapping his hand around his cock and over your panties, letting his fingers manipulate the silk and press it more firmly against his length.

“Still not as good as yours,” you arched your back, picking up the pace and letting your fingertips push more forcefully against your g-spot. 

“No? Not as good as when I fuck you with my fingers?” His chest rose and fell steadily, heart rate skyrocketing from the adrenaline he got touching himself paired with the knowledge that you were there on the other end making yourself feel good. 

“No, yours are bigger. Fill me up so much better.” You whimpered when the pads of your fingers found the perfect nook to rest upon. The spot with heightened sensitivity that he found with such ease required you to bend your arm at a difficult angle, but it was well worth it; the tickle spread through the lower half of your body, goosebumps breaking out over your skin at the feeling. “Fuck, but it does feel good, Damien—please.”

“Please what?” He was trying not to pant, and trying harder not to beg, so desperate to hear you make yourself cum.

“Tell me how you’re touching yourself—what you’re thinking.” Your mouth hung open when you finished your thought, lost in the joy of finally having time alone with him after days of being apart, emphasized by the blissful way your fingers moved in and out of you.

“Thinking about you,” he breathed, “told you, baby, I’m always thinking about you.”

This earned a moan from you, and he tried to imagine how you looked; two fingers driving into your cunt, soaked in your own juices, trying to fuck yourself open despite knowing only he could give you what you really wanted.

His imagination didn’t do you justice. You were too perfect. He needed the real thing. 

“More,” you whined, “Tell me more. Please?” You needed to hear his voice. If you couldn’t have him physically right now, you at least wanted to hear him tell you all the filthy pictures running through his mind.

“Have your panties wrapped around my cock,” he listened to you gasp at his words, proud that he could get you so excited even when he was miles away. “Thinking about all the things I want to do to you when I come home." He took a shaky breath, tightening the grasp he had on his cock and trying hopelessly to emulate the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him. "Is that what you want to hear about?"

"Yeah," you were whining, voice pitched up and breathing unsteady.

"Think maybe I’ll use my fingers on you since that’s what you seem to need so badly. Does that sound good, princess?” The image prompted by his words made him groan, bucking into his fist. The silken fabric of your panties acted as an improvised lubricant, gliding over his skin as he jerked himself off.

“Oh my god, Damien,” you used to heel of your palm to grant your clit friction, same two fingers still plunging in and out of you. “Yes, yes, need it!”

“Yeah, that’s right—use my fingers on you until you’re sore, bet you’d like that wouldn’t you? Till you can’t take anymore, then I’ll fuck you so nice, baby, make you cum one more time on my cock.” He couldn’t take his eyes off his own movements, watching, enthralled, as he brought your panties in his fist up to the tip of his cock before bringing the stroke back down and repeating the motion. “Need to feel you cum for me so fucking bad, that’s all I want.” He was whining now, frustrated and missing you. “Can’t wait to come home and give you what you deserve, baby—I want to make you feel so good.”

“You make me feel so good, Damien. Want—want you to come home,” you were so close, needing only a small push to fall off the edge now. “I’ll be so good for you, I’ll do wha—whatever you want.”

“Want you to cum for me, princess,” he gritted his teeth, trying to stave off his climax for just a little longer. “Want you to make yourself cum, baby. Need you to be a good girl and fuck yourself till you cum for me.”

His words were the push you needed; the exertion in his voice and the desperation behind his words made your abs tense as you used your fingers to make yourself cum. You cried out his name, turning your head to push your face into the pillow you could still smell him on. Your fingers stroked your most delicate spot, drawing out your high with trembling legs while you mumbled his name like a quiet prayer.

“Good fucking girl. Christ—” Damien’s jaw went slack when he heard your moans, your whimpers of his name made him feel something primal and wanting. “I’m gonna cum for you—fuck!—gonna cum with these pretty panties wrapped around me like this.” His words were stuttered, and his hips faltered as he fucked his hand, spilling into his fist and over the shirt he’d failed to take off.

The two of you breathed heavily over the phone, the sound of both your gasps overtaking both rooms despite the miles between you. 

"I miss you so much." Damien wheezed, lazily wiping off the cum that dribbled over his skin with his shirt. 

"I could tell," you laughed, drained but feeling carefree and light after unwinding with him like this. 

"What gave it away?" You could picture him over the phone, face matching his question; smile wide and brow creased as he held back a laugh.

You shrugged, aware that he couldn't see you but certain that he would pick up on the sarcasm in your quiet "I dunno." 

"That was ok, right? You feel ok?" His voice was softer, the force in his words diminished and replaced with his typical kindness. "Tired?"

"Tired." You confirmed, yawning. "Come home."

"Two more days."

"That's too long." You protested, and he laughed quietly. 

"I promise I'll make it up to you." Damien meant it wholeheartedly; he wanted to make sure you knew that every time he left, he could only ever think about coming home to you. 

"I know you will." And you knew he was telling the truth. 

There was a moment of quiet, both of you still breathless and stretching the ache in your joints following your impromptu rendezvous. 

"Will you stay on the phone with me?" His voice was small. He still got nervous asking you to do things like that, feeling like a lovestruck teenager and unable to hide his timidity despite having heard you scream his name while you came just moments ago.

"Yes, please." You smiled, eyes closing, "Like a sleepover."

"Just like a sleepover." He sighed dreamily, tired grin painted on his face. "I love you."

"I love you, too." You settled into bed, fixing the covers and making yourself comfortable. Damien listened to you rustle the sheets, focusing on how the sound of your breathing leveled out as you dozed off. 

He undressed himself, and got comfortable in the unnaturally well-made hotel bed, smiling at your soft snores and impatiently counting down the days until he could once again hold you while you slept. He grabbed your sweatshirt, placing it under his head, between himself and the pillow, and breathed in your scent. 

Even when he wasn't home, he knew he had you—and you were all he ever really wanted. 

#damien haas #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas fic #damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh games #smosh pit #smosh squad #smoshblr

[olenvasynyt]

I don’t listen to Taylor Swift but here’s my analysis of Guilty As Sin? being Elucien coded

I am not saying SJM posting this song on her story is a sign that Elucien is endgame or that Elain’s book is next, this is just my interpretation of a song and it is not based in fact!  I also don’t know TS lore or her dating history, I only know about the football guy, and Matty Healy because I’m ex-The 1975 fan

Drownin' in the Blue Nile He sent me "Downtown Lights" I hadn't heard it in a while

Downtown Lights by The Blue Nile is one of Matty Healy’s favorite songs and a verse from that song is this:

“Sometimes I walk away When all I really wanna do Is love and hold you right There is just one thing I can say Nobody loves you this way It’s alright”

If I were to relate this to ACOTAR, this is reminiscent of the stairs moment when Lucien is leaving to find Vassa and an army and we can see this longing and affection for Elain but he walks away.  Sometimes I walk away when all I really wanna do it love and hold you right.  I think we are going to see her POV of that moment and I feel like it is going to be very prevalent in Elain’s book because Elain takes a half-step.  What does that half step mean?

My boredom's bone-deep This cage was once just fine Am I allowed to cry? I dream of crackin' locks

This could be about how Elain is being kept in a box in the Night Court, about how she might have been trying to love it before but she wants to get out, it’s not the right place for her.  She does not fit in the Night Court, we see this when she wears black and it sucks the life out of her.

Crashin' into him tonight, he's a paradox I'm seeing visions Am I bad or mad or wise?

Elain sees visions.  And people also suspect that she could be seeing visions of Lucien.

What if he's written "Mine” on my upper thigh only in my mind?

Mine is a song by The 1975 and this song is about commitment and questioning what’s right and having this assurance that love is right.

Looking back on 2009 When people said that it was raining all the time I see sunshine 'cause I know that you are mine

“No, we saw rain, you guys weren’t right for each other, but he still sees sunshine, because I know that you are mine.”  This also reminds me of when Lucien says in his head “I am yours and you are mine”. 

I'm slippin', fallin' back into the hedge maze Oh, what a way to die

This could be about Elain struggling to navigate her thoughts and the visions she is probably still having but pushing down.  She might be better at controlling them but her control is slipping.

I keep recalling things we never did Messy top lip kiss, how I long for our trips Without ever touchin' his skin How can I be guilty as sin? I keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault

Again, as I and many people talked about before, Elain could be having feelings of attraction and affection towards Lucien, her mate, but she is shoving it down.  

We've already done it in my head, if it's make-believe Why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

People often headcanon that Elain is having sexual feelings and maybe even sexual visions of Lucien.

And the vow is the vow of accepting the mating bond and she feels guilty of that.

My bed sheets are ablaze I've screamed his name Buildin' up like waves crashin' over my grave Without ever touchin' his skin How can I be guilty as sin?

Again, we get this idea that Elain could be having attraction towards Lucien.  And we got fire imagery too!

What if I roll the stone away? They're gonna crucify me anyway What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy? If long-suffering propriety is what they want from me They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly I choose you and me religiously

It’s people saying “you guys are wrong for each other.  You are wrong, you guys don’t fit together”.  We see this with Feyre questioning why her and Lucien are mates, Nesta yelling at Lucien, saying “we’ll decide what she needs”.  A lot of people don’t think Elucien are right for each other but Elain could be thinking “we are right” but she is too influenced by other people’s opinions that she doubts herself.  “But what if she chooses him?  What if she rolls the stone away, officially bringing to life the feelings she could have for Lucien?

They don’t know how you have been haunting me so stunningly I choose you and me religiously

Lucien has been haunting her, and Elain decides to choose him.

#elucien #pro elucien #acotar #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

[leasstories]

We are just friends

Eddie Munson x best!friend reader

No trigger warnings

WC:  1.3K

You and Eddie met during Eddie’s second senior year and your junior year. You met in detention where Eddie sat right next to you. That is how the two of you started talking. You realized that you had many interests in common. The teacher kept shushing you during the entirety of the detention hour but the two of you never stopped talking.

When you and Eddie left detention, Eddie puts his hand on your arm to get your attention, which works as you turn around.

“Yeah?” you ask, curious.

“Wanna hang out?” Eddie asks.

“YES!” you answer, a little too loud for your liking.

“Is the pic-nick table behind the football field fine by you?” Eddie asks, bracing himself for a potential “no”.

“Yeah, sure” you answer.

On the short walk to the pic-nick table Eddie tells you all about his next D&D campaign.

You sit across from each other, and Eddie looks a little sad so you put your hand on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” you ask softly.

“Nothing is wrong per say. I really enjoy spending time with you, really. You are easy to talk t.” Eddie says.

You smile at his compliment before tilting your head to look at him in the eyes.

“But?” you ask.

“Uh?” Eddie answers, confusion etched on his face.

“There is a but, right? You ask before adding “I know we’ve never talked before today but I won’t judge you, you can trust me.”

“I don’t want to scare you off, because as you mentioned, we’ve never talked before today. But talking with you is so easy, I feel so comfortable.” Eddie sighs. “Talking with you reminded me talking to my best friend, Ronnie. She just left Hawkins for college and I, uh, I kinda miss her.”

“Eddie…” you coo. “You are allowed to miss her. I won’t replace her and that’s not what I want anyways. But I can be there for you. I want to be there for you.” You tell him.

Eddie surprises you when he jumps from the bench and throws himself at you, engulfing you in a bear hug.

--

After the day you met, Eddie and you kept getting closer. You both want to spend every waking moment together.

You became attached at the hip really quickly and anyone who doesn’t know you think that you’ve known each other your whole lives. You and Eddie are both touchy people. You always touch, hand holding, hugs, you name it.  Which led to the current conversation with your friend Nancy Wheeler.

“So you and Eddie are a thing?” she asks casually.

At her words, you choke on your own saliva before bursting out laughing.

“What?” Nancy asks.

“Sorry, sorry!” you say, still laughing. “Eddie and I are friends! Best friends at most.” You tell her.

“You don’t have feelings for him?” she asks suspiciously.

“Only platonic ones!” you say putting your hands up in surrender.

“But the two of you can’t keep your hands off of each other!” she protests.

You shrug. “I guess we are both touchy people.”

--

Little did you know that Eddie is having the same conversation with his bandmates.

“Eddie, come on! You know that you can tell us everything!” Jeff pesters him.

“We are not a thing. They are like, my best friend.” Eddie says casually.

Gareth groans, always the jealous one.

“You jealous Gareth?” Eddie asks, smirking.

“No! Nothing to be jealous of.” Gareth answers crossing his arms over his chest.

Jeff clears his throat. “Eddie, you and they are literally attached at the hip! And you are always touching each other!”

Eddie shrugs. “Guess we both are touchy people.”

--

You knock on Eddie’s trailer door. You both decided to spend your Saturday together, hanging out at his place. Eddie opens the door, squinting his eyes. You suspect that he just woke up. He lets you in and walk towards the counter.

“Coffee?” he asks.

“You read my mind!” you exclaim.

Eddie pours two cups of black coffee and hands one out to you. You gladly take it and sit on a stool.

“So,” Eddie starts.

“So?”, you ask, mimicking him.

“The guys and I are going to play an original Corroded Coffin song, wanna come see us play?”

“YES!” you exclaim. “But first I want a sneak peak. You know, to know if it worth it.” You say, smirking.

Eddie chuckles at that. “Consider it done!

You both finish your coffees and head to Eddie’s bedroom.

Eddie takes Sweetheart, his guitar, out of its stand while you plop down on Eddie’s bed. He sists crisscross at the feet of the bed while you lay on your side.

Eddie plays you the instrumental of the beginning of the song and smiles at himself when he sees you head banging.

He stops and nervously look at you. “What did ya think?” he asks.

“That’s so good Eddie! I can’t wait to hear the lyric and see you on the shitty Hideout stage. You should record this on tape, seriously.”

Eddie laugh. “You haven’t heard the whole song yet!” he says, tackling you on the bed and tickling you.

You laugh. “Stop it, Eddie!”

At the same time, Wayne comes back from his shift, he comes into Eddie’s bedroom and greet the both of you before saying.

“Quiet down lovebirds, I am going to bed.”

Eddie and you both look at Wayne in shock, you part and say at the same time.

“We are just friends!”

“Best friends even.” Eddie adds.

“Whatever you say.” Wayne says, waving his hand and retreating in the bedroom.

Eddie drags his hand down his face exasperated when you say.

“Why does everyone thinks we are dating!” you say, throwing your hands in the air.

“Everyone?” Eddie asks.

“Nancy asked me if we were dating.” You confess.

“Wait, Jeff asked me the same thing.” Eddie says sighing.

“Is it too hard to understand that we are touchy people…” you say sighing as well.

“Don’t know, people always assume that if you are too close, you are dating.” Eddie says.

“Did people think you were dating Ronnie. Eddie blushes at that, remembering how he almost messed his friendship with her up for a stupid crush.

“Nope.” He says popping the “p”.

“Why are you blushing? Wait- did you date Ronnie?” you ask.

“No and why I’m blushing is a story for another time Sweets.” Eddie says brushing the topic off?

“But I wanna know!” you whine.

“People thought we were siblings.” Eddie continues, ignoring your pleas.

“Were you touchy?” you ask.

“Yeah, but not the way I am with you.” Eddie confesses.

“What’s different?” you ask.

“Even if I consider the two of you my best friends, they are two completely different friendships. I consider you like my little sibling, hence why I am touchy and protective. Ronnie, she was more like one of the guys you know. She was taller than me, and tough. Doesn’t need protection.” Eddie shrugs.

“Edward, are you saying I need protection?” you ask.

“Maybe. But not in a bad way. Like a brotherly love and protection.” He answers seriously.

You giggle and kiss Eddie on the cheek. “Love you!” You speak.

“Love you too!” he says patting your back.

“So now we are officially non-related siblings?” you ask.

“Guess we could say that.” Eddie answers, smiling.

And yeah, people keep assuming you and Eddie are dating but you both know it is not the case. You and him are just best friends. Non blood related siblings who loves each other, banter a lot and love hugging and being close to each other. You both love each other really deeply but it is not romantic love, it is platonic with a capital P. It took some time for Wayne as well as your family to understand but they finally stopped pestering you with that.

#eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x best friend reader

[shittyassffblog]

Free bird - Part 3

I can’t, y’all are SO NICE I love you 😭 idk how many parts this is gonna be, but I’m gonna keep writing till I don’t got no more to write about lol, if you want to request something def just do so! Or if you just wanna ask me something, I would absolutely love that!

Part 1 and 2

P.S. You're definitely supposed to sing Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd as you read the title. It's what I do.

@blackveilomens

Warnings: oral (f receiving), not much else as far as I know.

As you were driving over to Noah’s house you talked easily about random things you’d usually talk about. Right now no one would suspect that Noah had just been all up in your guts less than 20 minutes ago, it also seemed like both you and Noah had forgot.

Soon you were at his house and you both stepped out of the car and walked to the front door. Noah unlocked the door and went inside, holding the door open for you. He yelled out to his roommates that he was home.

"Finally, did Y/N's date go so bad you had to stay there?" Jolly yelled back and you could see a tinge of red across his cheekbones. You giggled at that as you walked into the kitchen where you found Jolly.

"Something like that." Said Noah who walked quickly into his bedroom.

"Hey friend, how are you?" Jolly asked as he hugged you.

"Oh you know, pretty good." You said as you smiled back at him.

"Did Noah make you feel better about your date?" He asked and you nodded.

"Mhm, much better." You said and he smiled at you as he sat down beside you. You and Jolly talked as you waited for Noah to be ready.

"Alright I'm ready!" Noah exclaimed as he came out of his room in fresh clothes.

"Did you just change into a different white t-shirt and different pair of black shorts?" You asked and he looked at you with big eyes.

"The socks are a different colour." He said sheepishly and you and Jolly burst out laughing. He walked over to you and you hugged him, still chuckling.

"C'mon, let's get going. Gonna need that ice cream you promised." You said and he nodded. You both said bye to Jolly as you went out the door and this time Noah was driving.

When you got to the mall you immediately went to get an ice cream each, sitting by the water fountain and talking. Noah was explaining the details of their next tour and you were listening intently, your heart sinking a little at the thought of him leaving again. You always felt sad when he left, he's your best friend and sometimes you need him to figure out your problems. But this time it felt different, like it hurt more. You thought it was probably because you now were single so you wanted to keep him close, in case something happened.

"But I'm honestly really excited about the Bring Me tour in the UK, it's gonna be awesome." He said finally and you smiled at him.

"Yeah I mean doing a tour with the biggest metal core band ever is probably the coolest thing I've heard in a while." You said and you both smiled.

"Hi I am so sorry to interrupt but I am such a big fan and I was wondering if I could get a picture?" A girl said as she came up to you. She was obviously a big fan of Noah's so you moved to the side to let her take the picture.

"Yeah of course, don't worry about it!" Noah said as he posed for her selfie.

"Okay thank you so much, bye!" She said as she ran over to her friends and they giggled.

"I'll never get used to that." Noah said and you chuckled.

"Well you better, it's gonna happen a lot more, I just know it." You said and a quiet moment fell between you as you looked at each other. You finished your ice creams and started walking around the mall.

After an hour Noah had to go to the bathroom so you waited out front with the bags of stuff you had bought and was looking at your phone. Before long, someone started talking to you.

"Well if it isn't miss homie hopper herself?" An awfully familiar voice sounded beside you and you moved away. It was Chase.

"What do you want? Leave me alone." You said, looking back at your phone.

"What? I can't have a go? Seems everyone else is, even that sorry excuse of a man you call your best friend." Chase seethed. You could feel the anger boiling inside you.

"You didn't seem to think that about him when he had you pinned to the ground." You rebutted and you heard a grumbling coming from him.

"You know, even Steven had a turn didn't he? Yeah he told me, how you were just begging to fuck him right?" Chase said and before you could retort, Noah was stood behind him. You turned to Chase, anger heating you up inside.

"No, Chase, you don't get to talk about me like this. I didn't fuck Steven because he was a dick, but even if I did that's no business of yours. My sex life has nothing to do with you and quite frankly you're not worth my time. Please leave me alone, Chase. I mean it." You finished, not looking away from him for once second. He seemed a little taken aback, but his gross smirk returned fast.

"So you did fuck someone?" Chase asked and before you could react, Noah stepped in.

"She quite clearly set her boundaries with you. And I thought I told you to leave her alone?" Noah said, gripping Chase's shoulder and ripping him around.

"I- uhm i- I don't-" Chase muttered and Noah smiled.

"I don't really care what you have to say. Just go." Noah said and he scurried away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want step on what you just said, which was very brave and cool by the way, but it seems violence is the only language he understands." Noah said and you smiled.

"I know, I don't blame you. I blame society." You said and Noah grabbed the bags from you to carry them.

"Let's build a commune in some far-away country and exit society together. But first, Starbucks." Noah said and nodded his head towards the cafe in front of you. You thought about living with Noah suddenly. It was a nice thought. But coffee was nicer.

After a coffee you went back to the car to drove over to Target where you spent at least an hour and a half. When you walked out you had a bag full of nice smelling candles and some fall decorations. You got back in the car and you just sat there for a bit.

"I don't wanna stop hanging out." Noah said suddenly. You looked back at him, then smiled.

"Me neither. You wanna go get take out and watch a movie?" You asked and he smiled widely at the suggestion.

"Yeah I want that a lot. Should we go to my place today?" Noah asked and you nodded. Noah started driving and you decided to get Taco Bell. You held the food as you drove back to Noah's.

Once you arrived you hurried inside as it had started raining. You took off your shoes and left them by the door and went into the kitchen to get paper towels, forks and plates. You then went to go to Noah's room when you almost bumped into Jolly.

"Oh you're back. Didn't know you were coming here." He said and you smiled.

"Yeah sorry, it was kind of impulsive." You said and he smiled.

"No problem at all, we love having you here." He said and let you pass. You opened the door to Noah's room and saw he had added a lot more light strips around his bed.

"You're really going for that gamer aesthetic huh?" You mused and he feigned offence.

"I'll have you know..." He trailed off, pretending to find the right words. "Okay yeah I have no rebuttal for that." He said you both laughed. You got situated on his bed and pulled up HBO so you could watch The Last Of Us. You had bonded over the game when you were younger and promised each other you wouldn't watch the show without each other. And with him being on tour a lot you waited patiently for times like these where you could binge a whole show in a day, or more accurately in this case, night.

With the plates and take out bags long forgotten on the floor, you found yourself cuddled up to Noah. It was so nice you started to drift off and the last thing you remembered was Noah squeezing you a little tighter.

----

When you regained consciousness the next day it was to the feeling of Noah's hands on your hips and his lips on your stomach. You blinked open your eyes and looked down to the best view you could've hoped for. Noah was kissing along the edge of your panties. He felt your body move so he looked up at you. He smiled, tugging slightly at your panties as if to ask for permission. You granted it by nodded with a smile, and he pulled them completely off, replacing the heat of the cloth with the heat of his lips kissing every part of your pussy.

He moved his hands to your thighs and pushed your legs apart. He hummed an approving sound at the sight of you and dove right into your pussy. He was a man on a mission and he wasn't waiting around for anything. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue on your cunt, his thumbs separating your lips so he could fuck you with his tongue.

"Oh Noah." You moaned and he paused what he was doing.

"Shh baby, don't want anyone to hear. Gotta be quiet." He said as he licked a stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking on it lightly.

You grabbed his pillow and brought it up to your face to cover any sounds coming from your mouth. his middle finger gingerly entered you and immediately searched for your spot of pleasure, finding it no problem. You buried your face in the pillow, the pleasure being almost too much. You squirmed around uncontrollably, so Noah used one arm to hold down your hips as he continued to fuck you with his finger and stimulate your clit with his lips.

You could feel you orgasm approaching so you wrapped your legs around his chest and squeezed as your orgasm reached its peak, throwing the pillow away so you could breathe and opening your mouth as if to scream but no sound came out.

You grabbed Noah's hair, tugging and pulling partly because the waves of pleasure washed over you, partly to keep Noah's head exactly where it was. the suction his lips had on your clit was unrelenting and his finger, no doubt cramping by now, didn't still for a second as he made sure you rode out the entirety of your orgasm. When you relaxed your legs and your grip on his hair, he removed his lips from your heat, pulling out his finger carefully. He licked them clean, making sure to not waste a single drop of your release. As you came down he came back up and kissed your lips, making you taste yourself.

"G'mornin'" He said as his head fell back onto his pillow. You chuckled as you rested your head on his chest, hearing his quickened heartbeat.

"Morning." You said. "What about you?" You asked and he shook his head.

"You don't gotta pay it back every time y'know." He said as he looked down at you. You smiled as you cuddled closer to him. You laid there for a few minutes calming down.

"Can I ask you something?" Noah asked after a while. You hummed as if saying yes and a few second went by before he responded.

"Can we ever go back to normal again?" His tone was very neutral, so it was hard for you to know exactly what he meant.

"Do you want to?" You asked nervously. You hadn't wanted to admit it to yourself that you quite enjoyed what you and Noah had right now, going back to normal seemed almost impossible.

"Not particularly. But I don't really want to go to bed with other people while I also do it with you. Seems careless." He said and you didn't answer. You heart kind of sank at his words, the thought of him being with other people crushing you inside.

"Me neither." You settled for. Tears were stinging your eyes and you wondered how you got here. Was it all really worth it? Fucking your best friend just to go back to normal and then he finds someone new while you nurse your broken heart? And was that broken heart even over Chase anymore? Or was it Noah instead?

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian bad omens #bad omens