#come looking for her and that maybe when her parents finally meet again they can reconcile and get back together bc that is really all shes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fukcnoplease · 1 month

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Things always go wrong

Pt2 Pt3 Pt4

Danny paced the halls of pariah dark’s castle, well his castle but even after a few years he wasn't used to that, as Frostbite watched in silence. His king isn't usually this restless before a council meeting but his distress was understandable. As his eighteenth birthday approached the council was getting more and more pushy for Danny to take up his role as king. Frostbite had used his leeway to allow the young king time to grow up and in the four years since his first transformation he had only been called to council a handful of times. It was an impressive feat less because they needed a king and more because the observers were anxious to keep the young king on a leash.

This council meeting was called hastily as the anti-ecto laws had been passed recently and the GIW as well as the Fenton parents had become bolder in their pursuit of ghosts. The Fentons had almost captured one of Danny's rogues and it was too close of a call for the council to overlook.

On top of that Dani was supposed to be coming home today. The young clone had taken to traveling the world as soon as she was free to. Her unstable nature had forced her home only a month after departing and it had taken months to convince Danny to let her go off alone again. Her destabilization had been easy to explain, as a clone she had been created without a ghost core and with continual use of her powers and no way to replenish her energy she had used her own body's ectoplasm to feed her powers. Frostbite was unsure if she would ever form her own core as her creation was unique but Danny had pushed. The idea Danny had come up with was to take a piece of his own core and give it to Dani, maybe jump-starting her own core cultivation in the process.

After defeating pariah dark Danny had begun absorbing his core, a way of proving his claim to the throne Frostbite had explained, and with it his own core had almost doubled in power. While unstable itself as it was still settling into its new power, it was possible to take a sliver and still keep the core at a healthy level. If Danny pushed for a bigger piece than strictly necessary, well no one but Frostbite would ever know that.

The council had rioted at another ghost having a piece of the king's core, it was usual for families to share cores in times of need but a king having a royal family was unheard of. Some of the council was against it all together and some were quick to try and coronate Dani a princess. Danny did his best to shield her from the council and made her promise to visit at least once every few months and call weekly. It had been a battle but Dani had accepted conditions as well as a phone Tucker had made for her. Then she was off, traveling the world and bringing back souvenirs and stories.

A couple years had passed like that and they had finally settled into a comfortable rhythm. A rhythm rudely interrupted by Danny’s looming birthday and his parents lack of self control. He was supposed to be at Sam’s house, ready to hug Dani when she arrived and with a whole day of movie marathons and nachos planned. Instead he was stuck pacing his entrance hall as Sam kept him updated on the happenings in the living realm.

“Your majesty,” Frostbite rumbled, “perhaps it is time you enter the council’s chamber. An intermission can only last so long.”

The monarch hummed but didnt stop pacing. Every turn caused his layered cape to billow behind him in a strange way, as if it was floating underwater rather than being manipulated by wind. The king's crown had dulled from a fiery bonfire into a thin misty glow that wrapped in a circle over his head. Jazz would tease him for it, ‘It looks like the aurora borealis, your love of the sky bleeds into everything doesn't it?’ and she was right, though he would never admit it. Even as he combed his hand through his hair and the crown, the misty fire dissipating around his hand before gathering again, it still twinkled as if far away stars were shining in the crowns light.

Danny spared little thought to his regalia as he paced. A wave of dread had come over him midway through the arguing and he had called a pause so they could recollect themselves. He had tried to check in with Sam but she wasn't responding. He had heard nothing from Dani either and something deep within him was screaming something was wrong. He couldn't abandon a council meeting on a hunch and honestly it was one of the few times he didn't want to have to abandon the council meeting. If only because it would mean nothing was wrong.

Dani had had some close calls over the years and while she had really come into her powers she wasn't as strong as Danny and the one time she had been hit by Maddie Fenton still held fresh in Danny’s mind.

His phone buzzed.

Sam had replied.

Eco-Terrorist: We cant find Dani

It was the only message Danny needed before he was off. Ripping a hole in the dimension himself as he crossed back to his preferred plane. He barely noticed Frostbites thoughtful hum as he moved to bring the news of the king's departure to the council.

The precious seconds Danny took to arrive at Sam’s house were spent spiraling as to all the worst things that could have happened. The fear doubled as he stepped through Sam’s wall to find her holding Dani’s phone and pacing herself. Tucker sat at the desk scouring what looked like security cameras on his laptop as Danny popped back into view.

If Sam yelped it was only because she was too stressed to try and cover it up.

“We found her phone in Amity Park, she hadn't been responding and it had been almost an hour since she was supposed to show up.” Sam stressed, she was flexing her hands around the phone.

“Since she usually messages us if she is going to be late we decided to check if everything was alright. When we saw she was in the park and hadnt move in a while. We left immediately.” Tucker added. He had a wobble to his voice and a shine to his eyes. Danny gritted his teeth. “All we found was this.” Sam said as she threw Dani’s phone on the bed as if it had personally been the thing to commit the crime and went back to pacing, flexing her hands in and out of fists.

“Do we have any security footage that might help?” Danny asked.

“Ive been looking but the park doesnt have much cctv except around the perimeter or playground. Its been useless. All Ive seen is the Fenton-mobile.” Tucker paused, Danny could hear him swallow as the same thought passed through all their heads. “You… you dont think…”

“Ill go check the lab.” Danny said before he vanished. Already making his way through town as Sam and Tucker raced to follow him.

It didnt take long for Danny to make it to his house, the ghost shields were down but the Fenton-mobile was nowhere to be seen. It gave Danny little hope but he made his way down to the basement, transforming into his human form just in case. He made his way through his kitchen and down the stairs where he looked into the lab and into his worst fear.

Dani lay still on a metal table, restraints on her arms and legs and waist as a trickle of ectoplasm dripped from her left arm onto the floor. She wasnt even in her ghost form. He jumped the stairs and made it to her in two strides.

“Dani? Can you hear me?” Her head was lolled to the side but her eyes were open, if only barely. She blinked and squirmed slightly, making a grumbling sound before going still again. She was alive, likely drugged, definitely bleeding out. Her arm had a gash in it and two tubes attached to needles lay on the floor beside her. The tubes were tangled and thrown about, as if someone had tripped on them and then let them be. Rage bubbled within Danny but he forced himself to focus. He would not let Dani bleed out because he was too busy seething at his parents. He grabbed whatever he could use as medical supplies and wrapped Dani’s arm before trying to break her restraint.

Electricity coursed through him and he cursed. Refusing to let panic take over he turned to his parents computer instead. There had to be something that could undo the restraints and regardless he had to wipe whatever information they had on Dani. What he found was a conversation log of Maddie Fenton and an Agent W discussing payment and proper handover specifications for a ‘perfect specimen’ Maddie had found. The money was staggering and Danny’s rage almost made him crush the mouse he was holding.

At one point, Sam had offered up the idea of destroying the lab and joining Jazz at Gotham U where she had chosen to go for college. They had toyed with the idea, saying it was for the future or it was a last resort, but ultimately never gone through with it. It was a bad idea to drag a meta equivalent to Gotham and in all honesty, Danny wasnt comfortable leaving Amity. He hated leaving the town limits even if necessary, he couldnt imagine choosing to live somewhere else. But right now, staring at his bleary, injured, unstable sister, he decided he would have to.

His rogues would be pissed and he didnt really have a solid plan but he refused to let this happen again. To anyone.

It was little hassle to find the unlock to the restraints and erase the computer completely. His parents didn't trust the cloud and the physical copies they had would be lost in the fire. Tucker had copies of everything anyway. Dani moved to sit up but really only managed to roll off the table. Danny caught and he shared some of his ectoplasm to try and help her heal. It wasnt much but she started to regain lucidity.

“Danny?” she whispered and Danny hummed in response. Their cores hummed at each other, the harmony encouraging her healing. A boom rattled the building, it was far away but it snapped Danny back to the present. They didnt have time to sit there, he didnt know when his parents would be back and he needed to leave.

He laid Dani on the floor as he went around and dismantled as many things as he could, leaving the vulnerable pieces in the open. Finally he turned to take the ectoplasm filter that powered the entire house. When he ripped it off its mantle alarms started blaring and he turned and grabbed Dani, hauling her up into his arms as he ran up the stairs. He heard her giggle something about bumpy rides and he was out the door and barrelling towards his beat up car parked across the street.

Jazz had given it to him for his sixteenth birthday. Apparently she had originally planned to buy it for herself for her move to Gotham but Sam had managed to convince her parents to buy Jazz a brand new car. Something about the public transportation system being dangerous and it being the first thing Sam had asked for that had been manageable. It was beat up and an old red but Danny loved the car and used it often. He worried he would have had to keep his parents away from it, in case they try and ghost proof it but they never even noticed it. He parked it across the street and they just assumed it was the neighbors. No one had lived in the houses around them for years.

He shoved Dani into the passenger side before hoping the hood and sliding into the drivers seat. He didnt know he could do that.

Shoving his key into the ignition the engine roared to life. He managed to get down the street before his house exploded. The shockwave sent the car forward and he managed to catch Dani’s head before it met the dash. His windows rattled but none of them broke, a small victory he thought.

His mind flashed to all the things he had had in his room, his home. His memories, his souvenirs from Dani, all his space and nasa memorabilia, all his clothes and any pictures he thought were important. His family, his friends, his school, his only solid portal to the Infinite Realm.

His emergency supplies.

“Fuck.” he whispered as he kept driving. Dani giggled and said something like ‘language’ but Danny was too busy swerving through traffic to hear her. His phone buzzed and he jolted, he maneuvered to pull it from his pocket as he tried to check it only to barely miss an oncoming car and drop it into the footwell of Dani’s seat. He cursed again and kept driving. He wasnt going to stop until he was well and out of Amity. He focused on driving and harmonizing with Dani as he drove.

As they raced across Amity his core began to pulse with panic. The lingering pain from losing his home exploding into waves of fear.

He wasnt stopping. The pulsing grew more intense and Dani whimpered in her sleep. He tried to calm down but something felt so intrinsically wrong with leaving and his core felt like it was going to burst.

The pressure grew as they got closer and closer to Amity’s border and as they crossed it something in Danny popped.

He almost blacked out from the pain. The car swerving as he tried to regain control of himself. Something had broken and it felt like he was tilted on an axis. He could barely see and was forced to pull over. His breathes came in short painful gasps and he bit back a scream. He was trying to ride through the pain when his phone rang. Grasping for it he picked up and brought it to his ear.

“Danny? We saw the explosion, are you ok? Did you find Dani?” Sam said, crackling over the phone.

“Mhm. Dani is with me. We are going to Gotham.” Pain cracked his voice as he struggled to breathe. “ ‘s not safe. Need Jazz.” Was all he could manage before he was heaving.

“Danny! Stay where you are. We have ectoshots with us and we can-” Sam was cut off by an explosion behind Danny’s car. He whipped around to see a white van crashing through traffic. Danny slammed his foot on the gas and turned back to the road. The pain in his chest dulled as his desperation to protect Dani slammed back in full force.

“Meet. In. Gotham.” Was all he could growl before he hung up the phone and drove in what he hoped was the direction north east.

currently obsessing over dpxdc shenanigans

I just love seeing danny act like a cornered animal

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 month

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Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven

Dbf!Jake Seresin x fem!reader 12k words (.....yes. 12k. i-)

summary: Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he's actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father's new best friend, Jake Seresin.

a/n: porn with plot. a lot of plot. and a lot of porn. 18+ obviously. reader is twenty-five in this, jake is forty-seven. this is entirely based on my new fixation on dbf!jake. i have so many thots. so many that they led to a 12k oneshot lmfao. anyway, as always, a list of things to watch out for:

pet names used in an unholy way, safe sex (i fucking managed to finally give them a condom whooooohoooo), oral sex for the both of them (yes i also wrote a blowjob. this is unbelievable i know), dom!jake, some praise kink, a smidge of strength kink at the end. a lot of begging. as always. mention of shower sex. mostly vanilla. jake fucks in missionary because he wants to be nice for his first time with her. if there's ever a sequel i swear to god he will be the most unholy fucker ever

top gun masterlist

The first time Jake meets you isn't the first time he's supposed to meet you. He's supposed to come by for dinner that evening, to finally get to know the daughter your parents have told him so much about. And it's not his fault that he meets you seven hours earlier that day. Not really.

Because the pictures your parents had kept showing him were all old. Mostly childhood photographs, some from your graduation, but none recent enough to connect the dots.

So it's really not his fault that he doesn't recognise you when he sees you standing there on the side of the road, phone clamped between your ear and shoulder, the hood of your car all the way up. With how wildly you're gesturing, Jake guesses that you're not particularly close to fixing whatever problem you have.

You're wary when he pulls up behind you and opens his door. It's rarely a good sign when random men prey on very obviously helpless and distressed young women. But Jake doesn't even get closer at first, just stands there in the opened car door and asks if you need any help. For a little moment, you debate whether it's worth the risk. Then your father's voice rings out from your phone and you decide that there's not much this guy could do to you in broad daylight on a well used street with your father on the phone.

So you tell him the truth. Yes, you most definitely have a problem. The way he makes sure it's okay for him to come over and take a look calms you even more. He's considerate and careful and maybe you're actually lucky and he's just a guy who genuinely wants to help.

He steps out from the door and walks up to you and honestly, for a moment there you're startled. He has to be in his forties, but damn, he's attractive. Suddenly you're glad you picked your sundress over your sweatpants this morning.

You let him lean over your car and take a closer look.

"If he can't help, I'll just come pick you up and we'll call a tow truck", your father says after you've filled him in on what's happening. Honestly, you'd really rather not have to call a tow truck though, because that's just going to cost you a bunch of money again, which isn't particularly the way you want to spend it.

Also, this guy leaning over your car - and you're not even denying that you're very much eyeing him up - seems like he actually knows what he's doing there.

He takes a minute or two before he comes up again. He's smiling, which you take as a good sign. He opens his mouth and you hear what he's saying - but because you have no clue what it is that he's trying to tell you, you just nod along. You're not a mechanic, you don't know the goddamn terminology. Something something battery, something something fuel pump, whatever. You take the time to notice his accent instead.

The good news is he thinks he can fix whatever he's found, but you'll still have to get it checked out later on.

He walks back to his own car, rummages around and comes back with a toolbox and an unopened water bottle.

"It might take a while", he tells you as he offers you the bottle. "Feel free to turn on my radio."

You take the waterbottle and bite down on your lip to keep from grinning. He's sweet. Goddamn. Because you've deemed the whole thing safe, you tell your father goodbye and hang up - you honestly just want a bit of privacy to stare at this hunk of a man who's bending over the hood of your car again and offering you a very... good look at his backside.

It's summer. He's wearing a wife pleaser, which is reasonable in these temperatures, but the sight of his forearms working almost makes you feel like he knows what he's doing by wearing it. Does he have a wife to please, though? He's old enough to have kids - your age, maybe a few years younger. He's about as old as your dad. If he has a wife, maybe he's wearing it for her. Maybe she likes the way his biceps flexes just like you do.

You squint at his hands as you uncap the water bottle and take a sip. There's no ring as far as you can see. Would it be entirely unreasonable to assume he's... single?

It's been a minute, maybe, when you decide it's probably awkward for you to stand there and watch him, so you go with his suggestion and lean into his car, palms bracing against the seat to reach for the radio.

You turn it on, switch through a few channels until you find one you like and turn the volume up. Because it's probably just as awkward if you stay in his car - if not bordering on creepy - you step around the opened door and settle yourself against the hood. Your thighs stick to the warmed metal, but that's something you're willing to deal with.

Your eyes cling to him as he works. You don't know what the hell he's doing, you just hope he knows and you're not left with an even worse problem after. But he doesn't seem like that type of guy. And since he's seemingly unmarried... You don't stop yourself from staring.

Fuck, maybe he has a girlfriend, not everyone gets married at thirty. Not everyone wears their wedding ring either. But a girl can dream, right? And you're dreaming, for just a few minutes. You allow yourself to dream.

He looks so good. He looks so fucking good.

Sandy-blond hair, cut short, but not too short, broad, broad, broad shoulders... those arms, that back.

When he straightenes and looks at you, greasy fingers and a triumphant grin on his lips, you also have to admit that he's got chiseled fucking features. You swallow hard and do your best to pretend you haven't been ogling him.

"All done", he says. You raise your eyebrows.

"Really? That quickly?"

He grins and takes a step back, offering you to take a look yourself. You bite back a smile and push off the hood of his car - your hips are swaying as you walk, yeah, but as far as you're aware, he's single and just fixed your car for you, for free, in less than fifteen minutes.

Also, he's hot.

"Looks no different to me", you admit. He lets out a chuckle.

"Try it", he says, reaches for the hood and pulls it down as you slip into the driver's seat. You look up to him through the windshield before you turn the key in the ignition and-

The car starts.

The fucking car starts.

He's actually managed it.

You turn the key back and shake your head in disbelief. If he hadn't accidentally stumbled upon you, you'd probably have had to call the tow truck by now. Instead, you reach for the glove compartment and grab your purse.

"How-", you start as you climb out of the car seat again, shutting the door behind you. "How the hell?"

He chuckles.

"Actually, don't tell me", you interrupt yourself, throwing your hands up. "I don't even want to know. Here."

You reach into your purse and pull out disinfection wipes, offering them to him. He takes one with a smile and a drawled thanks and cleans off the grease on his hands before folding it up and letting it disappear into his pocket.

"So you're my knight in shining armour today", you say, biting down on your lip. Fuck it. You're gonna find out here and now whether or not he's single. "Otherwise I'm sure the tow truck would've cost me a hundred bucks - at least."

"Yeah, probably", he agrees, his eyes dropping to your mouth for just a second.

"Well, then", you smile, as coyly as you can manage. "How can I thank you?"

And just as you hoped, he stills, taking you in - maybe for the first time, you're not sure. His eyes rake down your body, your cleavage, your waist, your legs. His lips tug into a grin, but when he looks back up at you, he's serious.

"No worries", he tells you. "I'm not the tow truck."

He's not pushing you. Actually, he's doing the opposite, and you're not a fan. Maybe he isn't single after all. Maybe he does have a girlfriend. Or a wife. Or maybe he's not interested. Maybe... but you can give it a try, right? Just one try.

"I can't just drive off", you argue, blinking up at him a little more, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Fuck, are you really doing this? Your breath catches for a moment. But then again, if he isn't single, you're just gonna get into your car and never see him again. So who cares? "How about I give you my number?"

Your heartbeat quickens as he looks at you and straightens up. He's still grinning. You can't quite figure him out.

"I'm forty-seven, darling", he chuckles. You try your hardest to ignore how that pet name sounds, all sweet and intimate and god, you'd do a lot to have him say it again.

"So?", you ask and raise an eyebrow. "Does that mean you don't have a phone?"

Jake shakes his head with a chuckle, but you keep looking up at him so seductively, keep smiling so flirtatiously that he can't help himself. You're wearing such a pretty dress, such a dainty necklace around your throat. And you're serious about this.

He's had younger women flirt with him, yes, but usually five, ten years younger at most - and even that's been a while, because he isn't going to bars every night anymore.

You're really young. You're too young. You're, what, twenty-six? You can't be much older.

But you're stunning. Gorgeous eyes, kissable lips, glossy and plush and for just a moment, Jake loses himself in the images his mind seems to produce immediately when he looks at you - has been, from the second he'd spotted you through his windshield.

He's old enough to know better. But he still reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone.

...

The first time Jake officially meets you is seven hours later when he knocks on your parents' door and takes a step back to wait for it to open.

"That's gotta be Jake, someone get the door!", your mother's voice calls out, and it takes a few seconds until he hears soft footsteps coming down the hallway.

Then the door cracks open.

And there stands-

You.

You're smiling widely for the entirety of two seconds. Then your face falls.

Jake feels like the rug is pulled out from under his feet. He tumbles deep down a dark, dark hole as he stares at your pretty eyes, all shocked and wide, mouth open.

"You", you let out, almost breathless.

"You", Jake echoes, in quite the same tone.

Within seconds, you're stepping out onto the porch, closing the door behind you and holding out your hand in front of you, as if to keep him a safe distance away.

You're quick, almost stumbling over your own words as you come to conclusions and try to grasp all their consequences. Jake has a hard time even listening to you. He's frozen in his spot, barely comprehending the entire situation.

The young woman that had so unashamedly flirted with him this morning - that he had most definitely flirted back with - is his neighbour's daughter. His friend's daughter.

So he's fucking frozen in spot, yes.

He's frozen even as you're ushering him into the house with a smile on your lips that's just a bit too wide. He's frozen as he sits down at the dinner table and frozen as your mother offers him a beer. He's frozen as he settles on the couch after and as your father turns on a football game. He's frozen as you scoff at the tv and disappear up the stairs.

Your father asks him what's wrong, but there's no way Jake can tell him.

Even without your lecture on the porch, there would've been no way he would have admitted that he's got your number saved in his phone, "Twenty-five" with a winky face emoji behind it.

So he says he hasn't been all that well - maybe getting the flu or something.

Which is bullshit. He doesn't get sick. He's been sick two, maybe three times in all his life.

But he does think he'll be sick when you take your last step down the stairs half an hour later, in pajamas that barely cover anything - satin or something, he's too focused not focusing on your bare skin to notice anything except your bare skin, really. You just traipse over to the kitchen on tiptoes, eyes glued to your phone, hushed voices reaching his ears when you talk to your mother before you reappear in the living room.

"I'm going to bed", you announce, phone clutched tightly in your hands. "It's been a long day."

Jake can't hear your father's answer. He can't hear the commentator or the cheers from the tv. He can't hear anything, not when you're standing there in the doorway, when he's concentrating so fucking hard on not looking at you.

He fails miserably.

His eyes rake down your body so scorchingly hot that they burn holes into your skin. You have to swallow hard at his expression.

You're not tired at all, actually. Yes, it's been a long day, but if anything, you're buzzing with adrenaline. Which is worse. Because the entire dinner long, you've just had to sit there and stare at him and not do anything about it.

So you're aching to finally hide away in your room, to crawl into bed and contemplate what the fuck is happening. And, just maybe, to dip your fingers into your pajama shorts and think about his shoulders, his arms, his jawline...

Jake manages to grunt some kind of 'goodnight' before you flee - but he doesn't manage to drag his eyes back up from your stomach, all exposed and on display for him. And he doesn't manage to hide it from you.

...

He sees you often over the following weeks. He's been over at your parents' house almost every day for the past six months anyway, and that doesn't change just because you've come back home. Your father still invites him for football games, your mother still talks him into coming over for lunch or for dinner or both and whenever they're outside tinkering on something, he's being called to help.

And - because of course, it's your house as well - you're there, too.

All around him, all the time.

At first, it's innocent. You walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water and smile and say hello. You sit on the couch on a call with a friend and wave at him through the window. You come back from a walk with the dog and ask how he's doing before you disappear inside.

But then there come moments... Moments in which you lie down on a sun lounger in a skimpy bikini while he's painting the fence with your father, sunglasses high on your nose, a book in your hands, rubbing sunscreen into your skin and biting your lip when he can't help but look at you. Moments in which you brush up against him in the kitchen with a giggled 'Sorry', your mother's back turned to you as she grabs milk from the fridge, his fists clenching at his sides, his coffee cup held decently in front of his crotch. Moments in which you sit next to him on the couch and have to lean over him with a lengthy apology, your father just disappearing into the bathroom, your palm high enough on his thigh to stagger into the inappropriate.

The only time he's safe is at work. And even then, you're on his mind constantly.

Those pretty dresses you wear all the time, low-cut in the front and so short they hardly reach past your mid-thighs, in all colours of the rainbow. Those skimpy tops with the flowers on them and jeans-shorts or skirts he's more than once noticed are actually skorts.

He shouldn't be attracted to you. It's so wrong on so many levels. You're too young, much too young, twenty-two years younger than him. And - worse - he's best friends with your father.

He can't be attracted to his best friend's daughter. He simply can't.

It's wrong. It's so, so wrong.

But he can't help himself. He can't help himself when you brush up against him, when you touch him, when you look like that right in front of him.

He doesn't know how he survives those first weeks. He doesn't feel like he's alive, really. Every waking thought is of you - of you and of how wrong it is that he can't stop thinking about you. That he keeps imagining what it would be like to hold you, to kiss you, to-

No.

No, he can't.

Even though you're making it practically impossible for him.

And it's not like you really know what you're doing either. But ever since the car incident that very first day back home, you've been picturing those arms, those shoulders - and after the first time you caught sight of him working shirtless on some project in the backyard with your father, those fucking abs. All glistening, sweaty skin, that v-line, that happy trail...

It's not your fault he's starring in all of your late night fantasies now. It's his. It's his because he shouldn't be allowed to look that fucking good, to smell and sound and feel that good, when you can't have him. Because of course you can't.

He's twenty-two years older than you. He's your dad's new best friend.

You can't.

You can't flirt with him like you want to, you can't have him, because it would be wrong. But you also can't not.

You don't mean to taunt him, not at first. At first, it's just instincts. Talk to him, get his attention. But the more you're around him... the less you can control yourself.

You want to then. You want to graze your fingers across his thigh when your father isn't looking, you want to suck the straw of your drink into your mouth while you blink up at him, you want to accidentally drop your spoon and bend over in front of him. You want to because you know he wants you to.

Even though he doesn't say it, even though he forces himself to turn away when you walk by him, you see the way he looks at you. You catch him staring, you catch him eyeing you up and down. You notice the tick in his jaw and the way his fists clench at his sides. You watch his knuckles turn white as he grabs the neck of his beer bottle and takes a deep sip.

You know he's most definitely attracted to you.

Because even if you imagine half of those things - there's still the car incident. There's still your number saved in his phone. There's still 'darling' on your mind. Mostly the way he's repeated it since then, two or three times maybe, each one inspiring more sinful bedtime scenarios.

You can't.

He can't.

And yet neither of you doesn't.

...

Your parents are away when it happens. Your dad has to go on a trip for work and he takes your mother with him, surprises her with an extra weekend of romance just for the two of them. They're gone by Wednesday morning and won't be back until Sunday afternoon and even though you're twenty-five and have experience living on your own, they've asked Jake to check in on you, just to make sure you're okay.

The first time he 'checks in on you' is involuntary. He's just come back from work, it's Wednesday, 3pm, and he's sitting down on his back porch with a beer when he spots you.

He really doesn't mean to. He hadn't even known you were there.

But the fence between your house and his isn't high and so it's only natural that his eyes flick over to your garden once.

And then twice.

Because you're climbing out of the pool in the tiniest black bikini Jake has ever seen in his life, looking like some angelic, biblic, ancient goddess - your hair in a messy bun, droplets of water running down your bare skin, muscles working as you pull yourself up the little ladder and put both feet against solid, dry ground, leaving wet footprints with every step you take until you grab your towel, sling it around your shoulders and-

Look right at him.

Your lips tug into a flirty grin. You wave at him, your hand lingering in the air a second too long before you wrap the towel tightly around yourself and tread towards the fence. Jake can't do anything but watch you go and swallow hard.

The other option would probably be to drag you into his arms and ravage you until your throat is sore from screaming his name.

So he just sits there and stares at you instead.

"Hey there", you greet as soon as you're close enough to the fence that he can't look past your belly button anymore.

"Hey", Jake says and for whatever reason, his voice sounds raspy even to himself. Your grin only deepens.

"Do you have plans for dinner yet?", you ask. You bat your lashes at him innocently as you dry off your arms. "I was going to order take out."

So that's why three hours later, Jake rings your doorbell, in a black button up he spent twenty minutes picking out. The last time he'd spent that long in front of the closet, he'd been about fifteen years younger and about to go on an actual date. This isn't an actual date. This is anything but a date, because he's only supposed to check in on his best friend's daughter. He's supposed to look after you. Keep you safe.

But you open the door in an oversized, washed out band tee and smile so stunningly that he forgets what he's supposed to do in about half a second.

There's a moment of silence as Jake stares at you. He knows that damn band tee.

"Is that... mine?", he asks in disbelief as he waits for the sight to sink in, which it does not do. His mind blanks completely. It's not just that it's oversized and that you look like you're drowning in it, which already has him imagining the way he could flatten his palms against your stomach and feel for you in that heap of fabric. It's also that he knows this fucking shirt because he's been wearing it for the past ten years.

You look down like you're just realising what you have on, not like you'd almost had a heart attack when you'd seen it in the laundry basket, squealing so loudly that your mother had come in to check on you. Jake had worn that shirt the same day and apparently forgotten to put it back on when he'd gone home, so your mother had put it in the laundry.

She hadn't realised that you'd stolen it for yourself before she could wash it. She probably hadn't paid it that much attention.

You had though. And tonight had felt like the perfect occasion to wear it.

"I found it in the laundry", you say truthfully, looking up at him with big eyes. "Dad said it wasn't his so I just took it. Maybe a mix up. Do you want it back?"

Your fingers reach for the hem of the shirt down by your thighs, tugging mindlessly up just a tiny bit. Jake almost stumbles over his own words with how quick he is in denying you.

"No, no, keep it", he reassures. "Keep it."

You let go of the shirt as your grin widens.

"Okay then", you say softly, turn around and leave the door open so Jake can get in. You stroll into the kitchen, crack open the fridge and grab the freshly made iced tea while Jake closes the door behind him and puts away his shoes.

It could have easily been awkward. Honestly, Jake isn't sure that it's not. But it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... heavy. Drowsy. As though you're moving in slow motion, looking at him over your shoulder with a sultry grin. And in his shirt as well. His fucking shirt, it's unbelievable.

You're smiling at him over Chinese take out food with the radio playing softly in the background and the dim kitchen light on and it could have been almost normal, almost nothing, almost just a friendly dinner with his best friend's daughter.

But it isn't.

It isn't because you're leaning over the table and stealing a spring roll from him, grinning at him when he starts to protest. It isn't because you're pushing him back down onto his chair when he wants to get up and help you clear the table, leaning most definitely too close to him to grab his plate and bending most definitely too far down to put it into the dishwasher. It isn't because you're opening a bottle of whiskey, pouring him one and only then asking if he's going to stay and watch a movie with you.

You've already poured him the drink.

Not that he'd been planning to say no.

You're not close to him on the couch, not really. You're a respectful distance away as you put your own drink onto the table in front of you and grab the remote. You're still a respectful distance away as you scroll through a bunch of movies and ask him if he's got any preferences - besides football, of course.

But when you decide on a movie, on one of those rom-coms he'd never watch willingly, you're draping your legs over his and brushing your hair away from your face and he has to swallow hard.

His hands drop to your bare skin almost instinctively. He can't keep them off of you, not when you're this close to him, not when you're offering so prettily. It's like he has to touch you, has to brush his thumbs across your ankles.

This could all be normal. This could all be usual.

Jake doesn't bother paying attention to the movie. It's not like he could possibly pay attention to it, not when his fingers are running up and down your soft skin. So he doesn't really mind that he misses their first kiss, even as you look up from the drink you're refilling with a gasp and wide eyes to watch.

Jake just watches the way your hair frames your face, those droplets of iced tea on your lips before you wipe them off. He's sure he could taste them if he tried to.

You lean back into the couch then and stretch and your shirt - Jake's shirt - rides so far up that he catches sight of your underwear. Fuck.

He has to grab onto you hard so that he doesn't launch himself right on top of you. His mouth is dry all of a sudden, so dry that he has to swallow. You blink up at him as you feel his hands clench around your ankles, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep from grinning.

He needs a few seconds to even look up at you. It's like his eyes are glued to that expanse of bare skin at your hip, clinging to the thought of you in your underwear right before him. You're always wearing shorts. You're always wearing shorts. You're always fucking wearing shorts.

Shit.

He shouldn't. He can't.

But his hands brush up your calves and he does look back at you then, which really isn't better, because your lip is still caught between your teeth and your expression is so sinful that he has to bite down on his own tongue.

"Jake", you breathe, all soft and quiet and that's it. That's his breaking point.

You can't just say his fucking name like that, not in his shirt, not while presenting him such a good look at your underwear, and expect him to be okay.

"Fuck", he mutters, then he's on you.

It's an uncomfortable position. You're half turned to him, half away, your legs are still thrown over his lap, which means he can't really push close to you, but his lips are against yours, so firmly, so passionately that you can't care, not right then.

Your eyes fall shut and you kiss him back with the same fervor, the same heat, the same fucking desperation to finally feel him. You part you lips almost too eagerly, too quickly, just so he can stroke his tongue along yours. His hands dig into your thighs, grabbing you tightly, and your arms cross behind his neck to drag him down to you - just that your legs are really in the way now and you have to try and pry one from his lap so that he doesn't crush it, which isn't all that comfortable and takes a while too long to still be sexy. You hardly mind. Jake doesn't either, only pulls his knees up to the couch to climb on top of you.

The whole thing is complicated and annoying and decidedly too time consuming, but his lips are on yours and he's pressing against you, catching himself with a palm against the couch cushions and lowering you to lie down, every single touch frenzied and hurried and hot. Heady and heavy and horny.

You're dragging your hands through his hair, tugging, pulling, scratching your nails across his scalp. He's grabbing your hips with his free hand, grasping your thighs, tangling his fingers in your shirt and digging them into your skin.

You're grinding against him. Not softly, not carefully, not secretly. You're wrapping your legs around him and grinding against him, almost without realising it - you need to be close, you need to be closer. You need to move. You need to feel him.

At the first moan you let out, Jake stills. When you breathily add his name, he pulls back entirely.

It's cold and empty without him, cold and empty and confusing as he settles back on his ankles, panting and wide-eyed. Your arms and legs drop to the couch as you try to catch your breath.

"No", Jake mutters. "We can't."

You push yourself up onto your palms, chest still heaving as you look up at him. Your cheeks feel so hot that you're sure they're embarrassingly red by now and your mind is still hazy with what just happened -

Jake had kissed you. He'd kissed you and you'd kissed him back.

And now he isn't kissing you anymore and you're absolutely not alright with that. You need him to kiss you again. You need to dig your hands into his hair and feel him knead your thighs again. You need to find out what it's like to rake your nails along his arms and scratch down his back.

"Jake", you breathe, staring at him all wide-eyed as he shakes his head and inches even further away from you. He seems like he's in a trance. You repeat his name more forcefully and reach out for him - but he only shakes his head again and runs a hand down his face.

You still for the entirety of two seconds. Then you sit up, inches closer to him than necessary, and toy with the hem of your shirt. You've got a hunch that giving and taking the sight of your underwear will only help your case here.

"Why not?", you ask as you watch his eyes drop down, just like you'd wanted. His breath catches.

"You're twenty-five", he begins, his voice a bit too rough to sound unaffected. "And I'm friends with your father."

You take a long look at him.

"Would you if you weren't friends with my father?"

You bite down on your lip and blink up at him as prettily as you can manage. You're quite sure you know the answer. Especially with that car incident... With your number saved in his phone. With that smug grin you still see in your fantasies.

He hadn't been too concerned with your age back then.

"I am friends with your father", Jake says, all the while struggling to drag his eyes back up your body.

"But if you weren't", you go on, not ready just yet to leave this be - because you know that if you back down now, you'll never get a chance again. Not like this. Not with him. "If you weren't friends with my father. Would you?"

A muscle ticks in his jaw. You hold your breath - one, two, three seconds. Then he's on you yet again and this time, this time with no end in sight. Not as he pushes you back down onto the couch and sets both his palms down next to your head. Not as you wrap your legs around his waist and work the buttons of his shirt, fingers moving so frantically that you slip up more than once - not that you care.

You're kissing Jake. After what has felt like an eternity of teasing and quietly flirting, you're finally kissing him, touching him, feeling him. On top of you, all around you.

Yes, he fucking would. You were right.

His shirt finally unbuttons and you can hardly push it out of the way quickly enough to run your hands down his chest - exploring his collarbones, his abs, that fucking happy trail that has been driving you insane ever since you saw it for the first time. Your fingers brush bare skin, warm, hot, bare skin, before they catch on his waistband. He grinds his hips onto yours as you draw your fingertips along his belt and swallows the moan you so pathetically let out.

You're just about to get to work on opening his belt buckle when he shifts his weight onto one hand and grasps your wrist with the other, pulling an inch away from you as he does so, lips parting in sticky intoxication.

"Jake", you mewl, but when you blink open your eyes he's already shaking his head softly and- grinning. Grinning that smug grin that you've been dreaming of. The one you haven't seen since the very first time you met him. Not with your dad around or directed at anyone else, no. The grin that takes your breath away right then, and you can't even tell why.

It's confident and cocky and cheeky and so, so very, very sexy. Fuck.

You stare at him with wide eyes and parted lips, too caught up in taking him in to notice how he's bringing both your hands up over your head.

"If we're doing this, I'm doing it right, darling", he mutters, all low and rough and the pet name has you clamping your thighs even harder around him. "And only if you want me to."

You can't nod quickly enough.

"I need you to tell me, baby", he grins, exposing those pearly whites that you'd very much like to feel biting into your neck or something. "I need you to say yes."

"Yes, Jake", you push past your lips, breathless and panting and desperate. Desperate for him. "Please."

His chuckle reverberates in your own chest. He runs his hand down your side and rubs a soft circle against the bare skin of your hip, catching on the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

"Already begging for me", he mutters with a grin, his fingers hooking into your waistband. Your hips buck up into his and a moan drops from your lips and Jake just keeps on grinning. Keeps on running his thumbs along your hip bones. "That easily."

You can't even deny it, deny him. You need him to touch you and you need him to do it now.

"You're lucky I want to taste you, because I'm sure it'd be fun to tease you", he chuckles, holds you down against the couch as he sits back on his ankles, keeping your legs spread and the dark spot on your underwear right on display for him. "I could keep you here all night."

You're not sure what excites you more - the promise of all night or the tasting you part. Either way, you bury your hands into your own hair and tug hard to keep yourself from sitting up, pushing him onto his back and riding him into oblivion. He wouldn't let you anyway, you're guessing.

Jake runs his free hand down the inside of your thigh and you really have to concentrate on not moving then. Every touch, every brush and every stroke sends shivers down your spine and pools in your core, heating up each inch of your skin.

When he reaches your underwear once more, he hooks his second thumb into it as well and tugs. Your jaw clenches. God, you've gotta keep still, you've just gotta wait-

He looks up then and raises his eyebrows.

"Please, Jake", you breathe, before he can even say anything. His eyes drop again and he pulls your underwear down, down, down, pushing your knees together to slide them off your legs and you're holding your breath, holding your breath in this intoxicating mess of a moment as he parts your thighs again and leans in. Leans closer.

Leans... not close enough.

Instead, he grabs the hem of your shirt.

"As much as I like that you're wearing my shirt", he mutters, already pushing it up and exposing your stomach to him, "I want to see you."

You let out a pathetic little moan, loosen your hands from your hair and pull his shirt over your head instead, dropping it down onto the floor without looking or bothering where it lands. You're not really bothered about anything besides getting Jake's mouth on you right now.

You're dripping already, dripping down your own thighs as he takes you in - all naked, all bare in front of him, soft skin and smooth curves, chest rising and falling with your heavy breath, eyes half-closed, lips parted and kiss-swollen.

It's wrong. He shouldn't. But he's already gone too far and now, now, with all of you for him to see, to touch, to feel, he can't go back. He can't ever go back.

He wants to burn this image into his memory forever.

"Jake", you whisper, voice just as soft and silky as the rest of you and he snaps out of his trance, runs his fingertips over your stomach, studies you as your breath catches. He leans down again, but his eyes are fixed on you still, focused even as he presses a kiss to your hipbone, then to the inside of your thigh. His teeth graze your skin and his fingers brush against the underside of your boobs.

Fuck.

You bite down on your lip.

Jake thinks he might be in heaven as he palms at your breasts, swiping his thumbs across your nipples and watching your expression change ever so slightly. He breathes against your wetness and his eyes flicker down to finally look at you, dripping for him. His fingers still for just a moment.

If he does this, there's no going back. He's crossing a line that he can never uncross.

But in all honesty - he's already long crossed that line.

So he flattens his tongue against you and tastes you. And you throw you head back and let out a moan that's so filthy that he can't even be bothered to care about what fucking lines he's crossing anymore. He just buries his face in your wetness and basks in the way your eyes roll back into your head.

Your hands dig into his hair all by themselves, tug and pull and push him closer, further into you. You taste heavenly. You are in heaven. You're in heaven with Jake between your legs, brushing his tongue through your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth and groaning into you. He's running his fingers over your breasts, palming and grasping at them, circling and tracing.

That's when the movie stops.

You hadn't even realised it was still on, to be honest, but now, in the silence, your moans echo three times as loud. Jake bathes in the sounds you're letting out. You're absolutely gorgeous like that, teeth tugging at your bottom lip, cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering closed before you blink them open again to look at him, to watch him as he lays between your thighs.

You're soaking in the way he swipes his tongue against you, the way he palms at your skin. With every touch and every brush, you can feel the knot tightening. Can feel the tension in your limbs growing. Can feel the way your legs are starting to clamp tighter, tighter and tighter around Jake's head.

He's so good at this. He's so fucking good at this.

Your grip on his hair tightens so much that you're sure you have to be hurting him, but he doesn't show the slightest hint of wanting to tell you off for it. No, quite the opposite: he pushes further into you and groans his approval.

Which is about the last thing you can take.

Your legs cramp, your hands drag at his hair, your back arches, your head hits the armrest of the couch and Jake guides you through your high, eyes set on you, focused and fixed on you, watching every single reaction you have to him, drinking in the sight of you, drinking in your moans. You're pushing back against him, panting and clawing at him, lips parted and eyes shut tightly as you take in a shaky breath and sink slowly back against the couch.

The air is heavy. Heavy with your emotions, heavy with your orgasm, heavy with your moans.

Jake pulls back slowly, softly, draws his hands down to your stomach to rub circles onto your skin - significantly warmer now than before. You're still breathing heavily, legs unhooking from around his head only reluctantly. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded if he'd just decided to stay down there for the next three to five business days. But you also don't mind as he pushes himself up and presses a kiss to your lips, because he tastes like you and you get to hook your arms around his neck and pull him even further down onto you.

With his half-bare chest pushed against yours, his tongue runs along your lips and you open willingly up to him. More than just willingly. Because with him on top of you, his lips sticky and syrupy on yours, not wanting or not able to part from yours, there's already anticipation running in your veins, wetness pooling in your core again, the urge to wrap your legs around him and grind against him growing and growing with every second that he's kissing you.

You draw your hands down his throat, push his shirt out of the way and brush your palms down his bare torso, all hard abs against your fingertips. He's in such good fucking shape you could truly be running your hands up and down a washboard right now. It feels unfair that he's more than twenty years older than you and somehow fitter.

Your fingers catch on his waistband then.

"Jake", you whine softly against him. "Please, I need you."

He groans, drops his head down to your neck and for a second, you just hear him breathe - all hot and heavy before his lips graze your skin.

"Fuck, you can't say that, darling", he mutters. "You don't know what you do to me."

His belt buckle feels cold against your fingertips, so cold against your sticky, sweaty skin.

"Show me", you whine, beg, plead. He's not teasing you, not taking his time, he's not waiting or edging or anything, and still- Still, you're so fucking desperate. He's finally got you here, finally, and as much as you're sure you'd enjoy his teasing... You just need him to fuck you. Now.

Jake chuckles breathily as he raises his head to look down at you. There's that grin again. That fucking grin.

Then he plants that grin onto your lips and you moan softly, hooking your fingers into his belt and pulling hard. You've just started loosening it successfully when he sits back onto his ankles, leaves you cold and lonely and fully naked on the couch. You mewl.

"Jake-", you let out, but he's already standing up, climbing off of the couch and you're sitting up as if in trance, just to follow him, whatever it is that he has in mind.

He slips off his shoes before he starts to work his belt and then lets that fall to the ground too. You reach for him instinctively, drawing your fingertips along his thighs as he pops the button of his jeans and pulls down his zipper, but when he hooks his thumbs beneath his waistband and tugs down, something snaps inside of you.

"Wait", you whisper. "Let me."

You reach out for him and graze your fingers along his waistband, taking a breath as your eyes flutter up at him. He swallows hard, lets his arms drop to his sides and nods heavily. God, he looks so fucking attractive. His hair all messy, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed solely on you. You make sure to work quickly, almost frenzied, hurriedly pulling down his jeans and taking his briefs right with them. You won't spend unnecessary time on unimportant things.

Your breath catches, palms stilling against his thighs.

Fuck.

Jake's hand twitches, then clenches into a fist. But he stays right where he is, doesn't move an inch. Everything in him screams at him to run his fingers through your hair and guide you closer to him - but he doesn't. He won't. Not tonight, not right now. Right now, he wants to give you every out he can. Just in case you want to take it.

You don't. Of course not.

Not when you can see just how much he's holding himself back.

So instead you lean down and kitten-lick his tip. His hand flexes, again, and even though he lets out a deep groan that will surely echo in your head for the next two weeks, he stays still.

You just wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and take him into your mouth.

He has to close his eyes and tilt his head up to keep from bucking into you. Damn, it hasn't even been that long since he got blown. And he didn't react like a teenager then. But something about your warm, wet mouth, something about the way your dainty fingers reach around him, something about how you eagerly take him so far that he hits the back of your throat, something about that soft little gagging noise you make just before you pull off of him to breathe in deeply-

Fuck, you're making this really hard for him.

"Jake", you mutter, your hand still working him. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, looks down at you sitting there on the couch, completely naked, eyes all wide and cheeks flushed and so fucking stunning. His fingers brush along your forehead, tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

"Jake", you repeat, a little more breathlessly this time. "Don't hold back for me. I won't break."

His jaw clenches again, but you just blink up at him, the weight of your words heavy between you. His eyes roam your face for any sign of uncertainty - then he nods. He'd like to disagree, though. He's more than afraid he'll break you.

You're so young, so sweet, so fragile.

Just not innocent. And you feel like you have to remind him of that - of your more than obvious flirting, of your sultry grins and half-naked hints, of your number sitting so unashamedly in his contacts.

So you lean in again, pull your free hand from his thigh and grab his wrist instead, dragging it away from your cheek and planting it on the back of your head as you wrap your lips around him. He takes a shallow breath and your hand drops back down to his thigh. There's one, two seconds in which your eyes just flutter closed and your nails dig into his skin-

Then, finally, fucking finally! Jake tangles his fingers into your hair and pushes you into him. You loosen your hand from around him and put it against his other thigh, allowing him to pull you closer and closer. You breathe deeply through your nose as Jake groans above you - and it takes everything in you not to grin. Instead, you just let him guide you, blink open your eyes to look at him and try to ignore the arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs. He looks so fucking good, it should truly be forbidden, because now you have to press your legs together and steady your palms against him.

Jake feels about the same. His breathing is heavy, his grip on your hair firm, and his eyes are set on you - on how he disappears inside your mouth, again and again, your spit coating him, your throat tight. He can't help but push you down, one time, two times, and pull you back, three times, four times, then push you down and pull you back again. And again. And again. He can hardly concentrate on how good you're making him feel when you're looking that fucking sinful.

Shit.

Before he can come right then and there in your mouth, he tugs you off fully, his jaw clenching involuntarily at the soft whine you let slip. But you can barely be truly bothered when he leans down and presses his lips to yours instead. You're not bothered about anything, really - about anything but his tongue against yours as you cross your arms behind his neck and draw him in, your hands dragging into his hair, your mouth moving desperately against his, sloppily, silently begging him for more.

Jake steadies his palms against the back rest and pulls away heavily, breathing hard as you open your eyes again to look at him - half-lidded, all languid and slow. He swallows hard.

"Do you-", he starts, his voice low and rough and you nod, letting your arms drop from around him to point at the side table.

Have a condom, he'd wanted to ask. In any other situation, he'd have one himself, but something about bringing condoms for a check in on his best friends daughter would have felt incredibly wrong.

"In my makeup bag", you say, your voice thin and breathy as he stretches and reaches for the lavender coloured pouch, unzipping it and looking for the condoms between all the brushes and lipglosses. He can barely pull one out before your fingers close around it, before you've carefully torn it open. He drops your makeup bag back onto the side table right as you straighten up to press a kiss to his lips - almost innocent, almost, if it weren't for the taste of him on your tongue. Then you press a kiss onto his collarbone. Then one right onto his abs. Then one just above that happy trail that has been driving you fucking insane. And then, then, you run your tongue over his tip again before you roll the condom onto him.

Which means it's his turn.

And he doesn't hesitate.

He's not rough in the way he pushes you onto your back on the couch, no, he's smooth with it, hands running along your skin as he cages you in, as he rests his arms next to your head - but he's firm nonetheless. He takes control easily, moving you how and where he wants to, claiming your mouth, pressing his lips to yours. You let him. More even, you relish in giving in to him, in giving him control, in letting go, in trusting him. You bathe in his kisses, in his touches, in his soft grunts as he guides himself into you.

"Jake", you whine against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair, eyes falling shut. The stretch is delicious, heavenly. He fills you slowly, dragging his lips down your throat as you tilt your head back and let out a filthy moan. Your legs wrap around him, pull him closer. His teeth graze your neck, drawing a moan from you as he settles. He gives you a moment to adjust.

A moment too long.

Way too long.

Even with his lips on your skin, with your nails dragging down his neck, digging into his shoulders, even with him inside of you, you need more. You need him to move. Right fucking now.

"Jake", you mewl, your eyes fluttering open. He raises his head to look at you and- Fuck, good lord. You've messed up his hair and his pupils are wide and his cheeks are red and he looks fucking heavenly. So heavenly that your breath catches. You forget what you wanted to say for a moment. Then his thumb brushes your cheek and you remember.

"Move", you breathe, digging your fingers into his skin and wrapping your legs around him tightly. You need him to move. But his lips tug up in that grin again and, as quickly as you can, you add- "Please, Jake."

His grin widens as he looks down at you, all pretty and desperate, clenching around him, lips parting in a silent moan. It would be so easy to tease you, so easy to make you beg and plead for him... And you'd look so gorgeous doing it. You're already so eager to please him.

But not tonight. Not right now. Right now, he just needs to make you feel good. So he leans down, presses a kiss to your lips and moves. Finally.

You open up to him eagerly, letting him run his tongue along yours, moaning into him as he thrusts into you. Deep and languid, hitting all the right spots like no one has before. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

You're really doing this. He's really doing this. You claw at his back, scratch down his skin, sure to leave bruises as he pulls his head up to look at you, to watch the way you arch up into him. Your skin glistens with sweat, your lips part to let out a breathy mewl and the coil in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens.

Jake shifts his weight onto one arm, frees a hand to brush his fingers through your hair, tugging, tilting your head back, exposing your throat to him. You moan at the ceiling as he drops a filthy kiss onto your collarbone before he lets go of your hair again, trailing his hand down your side instead - and his hand is so fucking big, so big as he draws it down your body, brushing his fingertips over your boob, sweeping over your hip, grasping your thigh. You pull him down onto you, crash your lips back onto his hard. You need to feel him, you need to kiss him, you need to hold him right now. You need him. You need this.

He smoothes his fingers down your skin until they catch on your clit.

"Jake", you moan into his mouth, pathetic even to your own ears. He only grins into the kiss and circles your clit as he thrusts into you, again and again and again, your legs clenching harder and harder and harder around him before he pulls away, pulls even further away even though you chase after his lips, his eyes roaming your face as you squeeze yours shut tightly.

"Look at me, darling", he drawls, his voice low and raspy, his fingers rough against your clit. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

You let out some kind of deranged moan at his crude wording, opening your eyes and blinking up at him because there's no fucking way you can deny him. Not when he calls you darling like that. Not when he thrusts inside you just right. Not when the view of him, messy hair and grinning and all, has you clenching around him this hard.

You're close. So close.

"Atta girl", he mutters, and that does it for you.

Your legs cramp and your lips part again to let out a gorgeous little moan that Jake swallows up immediately, slotting his mouth over yours and drinking up the way you clench around him. It takes everything in him not to come too. You're so fucking pretty and you're clenching so fucking perfectly around him, but he needs to make you feel good first, he needs to make you come first, he needs...

"Jake", you mewl, face scrunched up, back arched, as he guides you through your second high of the night. "Fuck, fuck."

He's grinning when you come down. You grab his hand and pull it away from your clit. It's too much right now, too much. It takes a second for you to even realise that he's stopped moving entirely, too focused on watching you, on drinking up the sight of you, tousled hair and red cheeks and parted lips and all. You look like an angel, so fucking heavenly that he can't believe his eyes, not really.

"Jake", you mutter, slurring his name so prettily and pulling him in for another kiss, your arms loose around his neck, your fingers lazily brushing through his hair. "Come for me?"

It's barely more than a breath, barely more than a whisper onto his lips, but he hears it, oh, he hears it. He lets out a groan as he draws away again, his eyes roaming your face. You're unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable.

You're asking him to come for you. Begging him to come for you.

And there's no grin in sight, no smug smile, no hint of trying to take control of him - it's not a command, not even close, you're actually, genuinely pleading, your eyes half-lidded and barely focusing, just needing him to feel good now, too.

You're really fucking unbelievable.

He can't remember ever having a woman ask him to come.

He kisses you so hard you become dizzy, pressing his lips onto yours and tangling a hand into your hair. He pushes impossibly closer, thrusts back into you and pulls another string of moans from you, bordering on incomprehensible, hardly more than breaths, mewls that he swallows before they can flee into the empty air of the living room.

His own breathing comes in pants, his muscles clenching and tensing and he's there quicker than he thought he'd be. He's close, really close, and that's when you decide to dig your teeth into his lip and tug and fuck, he's there, alright. He's done then. He spills inside you with a groan, pulling back right as you flash him a dazed grin, eyes fluttering open to take him in.

Your throat feels way too dry all of a sudden.

You don't think you'll get this image out of your head ever again, this image of him coming undone on top of you. It's burning itself into your memory while you watch, never to be forgotten.

Because hell no, you won't forget this.

"Fuck", Jake groans, his voice all rough and hoarse and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips again, slow this time, almost soft. He brushes a thumb down your cheek, lightly cups your jaw and pulls you even closer, your skin warm beneath his fingers.

You tighten your arms around his neck a bit, keeping him firmly there, firmly on top of you, firmly inside of you. But he makes no move to leave, anyway. Just runs his tongue tenderly along yours, unhurried and gentle, and holds you close. You don't know for how long. He could've kept you there for eternity and you wouldn't have minded. How could you mind, basking in the afterglow like this, with his skin sticking to yours, his fingers grazing your cheek, his lips brushing against yours? No, really, you could've stayed there for the rest of forever.

But he pulls back after a while, of course, and pulls out, too. You let out some kind of disappointed mewl, but that's about everything you can do before he gently grasps your wrists and pulls your arms from around him, smiling in a way you can't even begin to complain.

"Lets get you cleaned up, darling", he says softly, carefully helping you sit up, his hands everywhere but nowhere nearly long enough.

You sigh dramatically, blinking your eyes open to look at him, even as you let him pull you up. Your legs feel like pudding. You feel like pudding.

"If we have to", you give in, smiling as Jake grins and shakes his head at you.

"We have to", he chuckles, hauls you up into his arms and waits for you to hold onto him before he carries you into the bathroom - seemingly fucking without any problem whatsoever, as if you weigh nothing at all to him.

You bite down on your lip and rest your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut to not have to look at him while you contemplate his strength. He should not be this fucking strong. He should not be allowed to be this fucking strong.

"Careful", Jake says, his voice low, as he sets you gently down on the toilet seat. You flinch away from the ice-cold seat against your thighs, fingernails digging into his shoulders for one, two, three seconds before you relax and settle down.

Jake lets go of you just as softly, steadying you until he's sure you won't just fall right off the toilet. He turns and you look up, his back right there to stare at, a smile tugging at your lips again - goddamn, he looks way too good, holy shit. You barely hear the garbage can open and close as he throws away the used condom, then rummages through the drawers until he finds a washcloth that he can soak in luke warm water.

He turns with a smile, grabs your chin tenderly and presses a kiss to your lips, just one, all sweet and languid, so unlike the rest of his kisses. You hardly notice that he's cleaning you off as he kneels down in front of you, simply because you're so entranced by him. God, but he really looks like he's fucking glowing, you hate him for having this effect on you.

He wraps his arms around you again - did he put the washcloth away? fuck, did you miss that? - and you cuddle close, almost (but just almost) letting out a pleased sigh. Fuck, he's so broad and so strong and so comfortable...

He sets you down on the couch and smiles.

"Wait here for me, darling", he mutters, bending down to pick up your shirt (his shirt, really) and slide it carefully over your head once again. You hug yourself close and settle deep into the couch as Jake disappears. His steps echo through the house.

Then there's silence.

Absolute silence.

You rest your head against the headrest and close your eyes, your fingertips absentmindedly drawing circles against your heated skin.

And in this quiet emptiness... the reality of the situation finally sinks in.

For the first time.

Because you just slept with Jake Seresin.

Jake Seresin. Your neighbour Jake Seresin. Your dad's best friend Jake Seresin. Twenty-two years older than you Jake Seresin.

Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit.

This actually happened. This actually fucking happened. You slept with Jake Seresin. And somehow... somehow- Somehow you can't feel guilty. You can't feel bad or ashamed. Not like you should. And you definitely should. Because this is Jake Seresin, not some random frat guy. This is forty-seven year old, your dad's best friend Jake Seresin.

But you can't feel bad.

You really do try, for the entirety of a minute or two, while somewhere in the back of the house, a door is opened and closed again. But you still can't feel bad. So you don't.

Jake comes back with a water bottle and his briefs back on, which you can't help but feel disappointed at. He sits down on the couch next to you and hands you the bottle.

"Drink", he nods, so you uncap it carefully and take a sip. It's charming, really, how the first time you'd met him with your car broken down, he'd also handed you a water bottle. A grin tugs at your lips involuntarily. It's just coincidence, you know that, but there's something incredibly sweet about the way he's seemingly always made sure to keep you hydrated. There's something sweet about him, simple as that, with how softly he's cleaned you off and settled you down on the couch after.

You put the bottle down on the table and turn to him.

He looks almost normal again, almost like before. He's still nearly naked though (which you certainly aren't complaining about), and his hair still looks like he's just walked straight out of a hurricane. He raises his eyebrows at you as you take him in.

"We should probably talk about this", you say, your voice cracking halfway through. You're not sure you want to talk about it. And with the way Jake's face falls... yeah, he doesn't seem to, either. But he still straightens up and brings some more distance between the both of you.

Maybe that's smart, actually. Maybe. But then again, you've already done everything you could to try and feel bad, so instead of doing the reasonable (you're already way past the reasonable anyway) and pushing further away from Jake too, you stretch out a leg and drape it over his lap again.

A muscle in his jaw ticks and he grasps your ankle almost immediately, as if there's no other choice but to touch you even while he's trying to keep his distance.

"But", you grin, scooching a little closer as an idea forms in your mind, "You know, I still have to shower. Chlorine is so bad for the skin unless you wash it off. And I did spend quite a while in the pool today."

...

It's Monday afternoon and even hotter than the weeks before. You're sitting outside, sunbathing in the fifteenth layer of sunscreen of the day, with sunglasses on that hardly seem to do anything and wearing nothing but a bikini because god, you're fucking melting. It hasn't been this hot the entire year.

The only really good thing about the scorching heat is that Jake, for lack of swimming pools in his garden, is doing sets in yours. You're incredibly glad for your sunglasses, because even though your mother is sitting right next to you, burying her nose in another of the novels she'd checked out from the library two weeks earlier, you can ogle Jake without worrying that she'll catch you.

And goddamn, you're ogling, alright.

It's not like you haven't stared at him enough. Over the past five days, you've barely been doing anything else. Well, except for those times you'd had your eyes closed and his lips on yours, of course. But still, you don't really feel like you could ever possibly get enough of staring at him.

And right now, right now, with the way he climbs out of the pool, arms tensing and flexing, water dropping down his skin, his hands running through his soaking wet hair...

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You bite down on your lip and press your thighs together. God, if you aren't careful, you'll have to disappear into the house and shower early, because you're sure you could not pass the dark spot on your bikini bottoms off as sweat.

Jake turns away to grab his towel and starts to dry off and you're already mulling over how you'll phrase the message you'll send him (something along the lines of 'tell my parents you need to use the bathroom' with a shower selfie attached? You've already sent him way worse things while he'd been at work) when your mother suddenly gasps.

Three heads turn to her simultaneously.

"Jake!", she chokes, her book sinking down into her lap. Jake raises his eyebrows at her, just as clueless as you are. She parts her lips and then clamps her mouth shut again, apparently lost for words. "Your back."

It hits you like a tidal wave.

Oh, shit. Oh, holy fucking shit.

You should've noticed earlier. Much earlier. You should've- God, he'd known, too, hadn't he? But you'd been the one to stare at his back long enough that you should've noticed. Yesterday. You should've noticed the long, red lines running down his skin. Your long, red lines running down his skin. Fuck, fuck-

"Oh, that-"

Jake stumbles over his own words for the first time ever since you've met him. His eyes find yours, for just a moment or two, and you can see the panic in them. It's the second fucking day your parents are back. The second fucking day. And you're already messing up, you're already-

"I knew it", your mother grins, clapping her hands together and letting out a laugh that startles you so hard you flinch. "I knew you were a womanizer after all! I mean, looking like that, there's no other way-"

"Honey!", your father gasps, and she giggles and throws her hands up. But he's grinning too and you know him well enough to say he isn't really mad that she's complimenting Jake.

"Sorry, sorry, just saying." She chuckles to herself and grabs her book again, her voice dropping to a mumble. "I can't believe it though, we go away for five days and suddenly he's hooking up with someone! I think we need to stop inviting him over so often if we want him to find somebody."

Your father laughs and gets up to offer Jake a beer.

"You didn't happen to see who he brought home, did you?", your mother asks, her voice almost too casual to really be casual as she turns her head to look at you with raised eyebrows.

You choke on your breath.

"Um-", you start, but your father already rolls his eyes and saves you without meaning to.

"You're not nosy at all", he chides, resting his beer bottle against her foot. She tugs it away and shakes her head at him.

"Just curious", she grins. "Just curious."

Yeah. Just curious. You pray to god that just curious won't one day expose the little secret you've got going on with Jake. Next time, you'll really have to be more careful with your nails.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #dbf!jake seresin #dbf!jake seresin smut #x reader #dbf!jake seresin x reader #top gun #top gun x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin smut

572 notes · View notes

itoshi-s · 1 year

Note

wld u have any input on perv!reo w an innocent/oblivious reader??

──✧ ˚ · “ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞

*.✧ ft. 𝐫𝐞𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞

*.✧ wc: 10.1k. nsfw & dark content / 17+ only / minors dni ! - fem reader, characters are 18+ (but meet as teenagers), dub-con, slow burn, reo's a whore and a sleaze, manipulation, corruption, slight obsessive behavior, misuse of power (reader sees reo as kind of a brotherly figure), cunnilingus, reo's needy, mentions of taking unsolicited sex pics, panty stealing. // notes: reo is either a perv or a sub and there's no in between ! reo fuckers enjoy (☆ω☆)

the first time reo sees you, he’s barely fourteen and it’s in his family home, sitting straight in your seat at the dining table.

you look gorgeous with your big, curious eyes, long lashes, and a lip balm giving your pout a pink sheen. you’re different from all the other girls he’s seen around at school - you don’t try to look older, and actually look your age. a nice change for once. he steals a few glances upon your way from his seat diagonally across, fork digging into the tender steak on his plate. it was nice for a change to not be the only teen at the table, and actually, it was a bit surprising too. your parents were frequent guests at his house, due to the many links between their company and mikage corp, but this was the first time you tagged along. actually, reo doesn’t think he’s ever heard them mention having a daughter - but then again, his head is always anywhere but here, at the table, when the adults discuss over business details and joke around topics that make his head ache and confusion settle on his features.

“what about you, love? got any plans for the future?” reo moves his eyes from his glass of juice to his mother upon hearing her address you. she’s so sweet, just like always.

you blink once, twice, and nod quickly, “oh- oh, yes, actually. i want to help people.” you beam, the smile you’re sporting making your cheeks plump and full. “maybe, um, set up a foundation, or something? i dunno, like the one that organized the ball a week ago, right papa?”

reo has to hold back a roll of his eyes, the interest you first sparked in him long gone. now this was something he’s heard from about every other girl he knows - the other option either being fashion or a family company heir, just like him. you sound a bit clueless, too, the sheepish tone of your voice making you seem even more childish. (not like he’s grown up, of course, but then again, you’re even worse.)

despite how cute you are that day, reo doesn’t feel any interest in you whatsoever. the reason behind why you looked so innocent compared to his other friends, who already started to experiment with makeup and more mature clothing, doesn’t make it any easier to like you either. you are a year younger, and from what his mother tells him once you leave, your parents are very strict on keeping you unscathed by the pressure social media and society puts on young girls. now the thought of you hanging out at his place more often sounds so nohow, it doesn’t even make him excited to finally have some company. you seem immature and a bit naive, and while reo’s anything but aloof, he doubts that he’ll ever get along with you.

or, at least, so he thinks after the night you first meet. as expected, you start coming over to his place more often, now that a brand new deal between your families is about to be signed. while your parents discuss future plans over wine, reo is shocked to hear that for once, maybe he can show you around the house instead of sitting next to them and getting familiar with the investments.

you’re not actually that insufferable, reo realizes after several long hours of you hanging out together in his room. you have an older brother that’s a professional volleyball player now, and he sees the longing in your eyes when you mention him playing overseas. it sparks his interest, how your brother began his career when he was just about his age - he had everything a teenage boy could ever dream of, and yet, he’d rather move to the other side of the world to chase a dream that didn’t gave him any certainty. the more you talk, the softer and less infantile you seem - reo realizes that you actually do know a lot about worldwide humanitarian issues, a lot more than any other kid your age. he listens intently as you tell him about the things you like to do after school, about the many hobbies your parents put you on, and somehow, you manage to find a common ground. you talk and game and laugh for hours, until the night falls and your mum comes up to reo’s room to collect you.

reo gives you a little wave goodbye, and from now on looks forward to your visits - for a while.

years pass by, and while reo manages to keep up his spot on top of his every class, all while meeting up with friends and traveling the world with his parents, you just seem… the same. yeah, you got smarter - a scholarship from the states being the best proof - and prettier, too, which reo is sure other boys notice as well. but you still have this little dreamy edge to you, your laugh all too high pitched and random at times, and you still blush profusely whenever a boy comes anywhere near. you’re still nice, but just not as fun to be around; you're different, than him and the other girls he knows and starts to surround himself with. it’s not your fault either, as reo figures it must be your parents keeping you away from all the opportunities - better or worse - that teenagery has to offer. you’re busy with the scholarship now, thinking of going on a student exchange to the usa, even, and while reo sees it as praiseworthy, you two just seem to lose the common language you once had.

second year of highschool comes by, and you’re merely just a thought at the very back of reo’s head when he meets nagi. the two get along as if they’ve known each other their whole lives, even though seishiro needs a little (uh, maybe a bit bigger) push, and the friendship and newly found passion about football gets reo going. he doesn’t even see you around too often anymore, considering he’s barely at home after school, and even if he is, the time is spent on arguing with his parents. the only times he remembers about you is when you’re brought up by his father - a prime example of how one should take advantage of the privileges they were born into, instead of picking up a worthless dream. he knows you’ve got nothing to do with this, and yet still, the thought of you makes reo hurl.

reo doesn’t really miss you a lot during his time at blue lock - and he doesn’t think it’s anything harsh, considering you were barely good friends and only ever hung out when your parents did, and it was still long years ago, back before you two even properly hit puberty. there’s enough going on during the selections to keep his mind busy and muscles taut with stress - he doesn’t need any interruptions in getting to the top and so, the thought of you is pushed to the very back of his mind. it only ever changes the day of the u20 match, when the buzz of the blue lock’s team victory is still making his skin crawl and blood rush. he’s tired, his legs feel like jelly, and yet, he still makes out the familiar voice from the front row stands as he goes to leave to the locker room.

“reo!” he turns his head upon his name being called out, brows furrowed as he wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. he recognizes the sing-song voice, but the memory is a bit blurry as violet eyes scan through the crowd and eventually fall upon the hand vigorously waving around - moving down, they lock with your bright orbs, a vibrant grin on your lips.

to say that he’s surprised to see you is an understatement - he takes a quick glance around you to check if you’re there with your parents, but he sees that you’re in fact alone. must’ve been your idea now, wasn’t it? reo jogs over to the barriers, and only after closing the distance between the two of you does he notice the changes in your appearance that must’ve happened over the past few months.

he spots the way your features look way more mature now, and how you seem to finally have started to accentuate them with the right makeup. your skin still has the girly glow to it, though, or it might just be the wide smile on your face that’s lighting it up - either way, you definitely look even prettier than the last time reo has seen you, which must’ve been around his sixteenth birthday.

“you won!” you exclaim happily, leaning against the barriers and reaching a hand out to high-five him once he’s in arms reach. he’s a bit hesitant, but only out of surprise. “thought they would never bring you out,” you quip, watching reo roll his eyes. geez, thanks. “doesn’t your head hurt from that save?” your dainty fingers touch at reo’s reddened forehead, and it makes a foreign flutter wake in his chest.

“not really,” he shrugs, letting you ruffle his hair slightly. were you really that touchy with him these few years ago, back when you were children? he can’t recall. “what’re you doing here anyway?” he rubs at his eye, the other one glancing up at you curiously. from his spot under the bleachers, he has just the perfect sight of your cleavage - and usually it wouldn’t affect him in any way, but to his surprise, his gaze is met with bare skin. reo has to swallow thickly upon the initial startle, eyes momentarily locked with the gold necklace that he now remembers you wear even years ago - but this time, it rests right between the valley of your perky breasts, barely visible from the spot where your tits squeeze together. fuck - he knows that puberty can be a blessing sometimes. but could that really be the same you?

your voice brings him back to the present, gaze quickly tearing away from your chest, “i could finally see you play, reo! i never even heard you mention soccer,” you state, voice falling a bit near the end of the sentence. almost as if you regretted the way your friendship turned out. “do you still have the same number?” the question brings a hopeful tilt to your voice, and it makes reo smile a bit. there it is - the same awaiting, sweet sound.

“yeah,” he replies, looking up to lock his eyes with your doe ones. the clumpy, thick mascara on your lashes really does the trick, he thinks as he watches your lips stretch in a smile. “i don’t have my phone on me at blue lock, though - but we will catch up once i’m back, yeah?” now you were not the only one that has undergone a major change throughout the years, and while reo didn’t look all that different, there was definitely a shift in his personality. yeah, he was still real sweet with everyone, barely ever getting into any fights or arguments and staying on good terms with pretty much everybody. he always could have any girl he wanted - could pick and choose from tens of them at school, and then everywhere else he went - and yet, not even one of them grew suspicious of the way he is. not one of his previous girlfriends or the ones he only hung out with once or twice seemed aware of how his eyes naturally rested lower than on their face when they spoke. they only grew giddier at the way his hands would grope at the soft fat of their tits, their hips, squeezing at their bottom in a way that made their head spin - in a way they’ve already heard from their friends, who also got lucky enough to catch reo’s attention. maybe they were also just glad that it was finally their chance, and didn’t give his hungry touches any second thoughts? maybe they really did think that he was just like all the other horny teenagers, buzzing with hormones, and that his long days of practice only spurred him on even more. sometimes, reo was surprised, even, at how quickly they would respond to his sly texts, a picture attached with no trace of shame. did they ever let the thought of him keeping these pictures linger, or were they really just this dumb?

the more recognition he gets thanks to the blue lock project and neo egoist league, the larger his range of possibilities grows. there’s girls flooding his dm’s, his name being thrown around different thirst tweets, and yet, it’s not like reo’s not used to it already. he's turned eighteen barely a few months before the blue lock project, and so he's already had plenty of time to finally let up all of this pent up tension. he meets up with a few girls during his breaks, spends the night, and is off early morning - with a pair of lace knickers in his back pocket, if he’s lucky (and the girl oblivious enough). some of them don’t even notice the flash going off as they ride him, their back to his face, taking just a little memoir to keep locked under a passworded folder in his gallery - something that he can play back in his mind, when he’s back at the blue lock facility, alone in the showers.

between his little hook ups, he still finds the time to keep his promise - and drives over to your house, which he is a little surprised to find with no sight of you the first time he comes by. “oh, she’s living on her own now! had to move closer to her university.” oh. "she'll be so happy to see you, though, reo! it's been ages since i've seen you, too." to say that he’s shocked by your mother’s words is an understatement - hell, you could even fly a private helicopter to uni each and every day if you only ever wished for it - so did your parents, always so overprotective, really let you move out and start living by yourself? nonetheless, reo is actually kind of content to be hanging out with you again. (the way you carry yourself, so soft and sweet as if your looks weren't enough to fill any guy's thoughts with pure filth, might just be the main reason.) he learns that you got into the university of tokyo on top of the acceptance list and are floored with not only work, but also the uni life that everyone else has been telling you about. ah. so that’s where the sudden change in looks came from, he realizes as you tell him about how happy you were that your best of friends managed to get in with you.

“she’s so cool! i think you would’ve liked her, reo,” you tease, a grin on your lips as you tell him about one of your friends and even go to show him her instagram pictures. he hums, “yeah, she's-" "if only she wasn’t into older guys.” you elbow him in the side with a giggle, and it makes him wonder how to wrap his head around the dissonance you’re giving him.

reo starts to feel less and less surprised with the way you turned out the more you tell him about the girls you befriended in high school, and then the ones you were hanging out with in your sorority house as well. you’ve always been kept in a bubble, as your parents’ greatest treasure - their sweetest little girl, as if you weren’t in your golden age to start experimenting with life and all it had to offer. it was honestly only a matter of time until you slipped away, the blinders your parents wore making them oblivious to your newly born adventurous nature. she’s not like that, he bet they’d say. have you seen her? she’s as innocent as they get! how the hell you managed to stay just that way, reo couldn’t figure out for the life of him. you’re wearing the skimpiest skirts he’s seen on a girl in a long time, your tits spilling out of your top, lashes curled to the heavens and yet, when you look at him, you have the same childish excitement in your doe-like eyes - and it feels as if you haven’t grown at all from when he first met you.

you were never really insufferably dumb to begin with, and reo knows that. your parents made sure you got the greatest education possible and you were a straight A student, keeping interest in many fields - starting from finances and economics, through arts and finishing at high tech. maybe that’s what makes it so appealing and easy to talk to you, spending long hours on bickering and discussing, even though your mind seems so, so much more innocent than his - hell, than any other girl’s your age, too. whenever he slips a dirty joke in the conversation, you frown slightly, a pout on your lips as if asking, what do you mean, reo?, and it doesn’t make any sense to him. yet again - how can that be possible, with the way all of your little friends are carrying themselves?

you start spending more time with each other, considering how close your condo is to the blue lock facility, and it becomes a little routine for him to come right over to your place whenever he gets a few days of break. you spend the time watching tv shows, stuffing your face full of snacks, going to the arcade and gossiping about reo’s teammates or whatever one of your girlfriends did since the last time you two have seen each other.

“m’so happy we’re friends now, reo,” you mumble one night, curled up to his side on the couch, nearly dozing off with some random action movie playing from the flat screen tv. “y’remind me of him so much, yanno?”

ah, so there it is - the reason behind you always staying hooked to his arm. even though you were coming from a very similar background as him, reo was still a little more experienced in life - having seen more, thanks to the blue lock, among other things - and after all, he was a year older than you, wasn’t he? he carried himself with this confident, yet playful smile all of the time, and made everyone in his company feel warm - very much like your older brother did. thanks to him (or more like your stories about him), reo manages to get a good glimpse at how a sportsman’s life really looks like - how even though your family was so close, his visits happen thrice a year at most, and it leaves you missing him so bad, he even has to comfort you and wipe away your tears on one of your movie marathon nights.

sometimes, it seems like there’s two sides to him. one, that makes every girl’s knees buckle at just one glance; and the other, showcased by a bright grin and giddy behavior. either way, reo doesn’t really think of himself badly. it’s not like he’s doing any of it against the girls’ wishes, isn’t it? some would even consider it a good deed, even, he’s pretty sure, with the way he’s the very first one to be touching them that way, taking their innocence away. the only time he ever starts to feel guilt eating away at his insides is when the same filth spills all over his mind, clouding over his senses whenever you are around.

it’s been a year since the neo egoist league has ended - a year full of you, amongst soccer and other things that tore his mind and body down with exhaustion. movie nights, adventure parks, helping you study, going to frat parties with you, even - cause none of the girls are comin’, reo, please, just this once! - as if he really needed any convincing to come. some of the guys there were his high school friends, he realized, and so the thought of catching up with his old colleagues made the party even more appealing. (not to mention the tens of girls that would kill to have him lick the salt off their tummy, the tequila on his tongue bringing a bitter taste to their mouth as they kissed later - one of his favorite party activities, honestly, considering how hard it made him in his pants.)

the first time it happens, reo’s by the makeshift bar, chatting up with a friend he used to sit with at chemistry lab as he pours them a drink - and his head lazily tilts to the side upon hearing your voice calling out to him.

“reo!” you sound as excited as always when addressing him, and he has to chuckle at the way you stumble over your own feet as you strut over to his spot by the bar. “reo, we’re- we’re playing beer pong. wanna team up w’me?”

the amused laughter dies down in his throat as his eyes zero in on your cleavage, the fat of your tits jiggling with each step you hurriedly take towards him. he sees the slight sheen of sweat, watches the way it reflects the neon lights, how it accentuates the glitter of the body spray you put on right before you left the house. reo is glad he has his hand stuck in his pocket, cause now he can quickly fix his hardening dick without making it suspicious - he gives himself a slight squeeze and clears his throat as you approach him.

you smell of coconut, and the scent overwhelms his senses as soon as you press yourself up against him - a giggle leaving your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in to press a wet kiss to his cheek. “pretty, pretty please? y’know i’ve never ever played it, and if i lose it’ll make me a loser, won’t it now, reo,” you babble on, a laugh leaving your mouth as his friend gives your nose a flick. he must’ve told you something amusing, reo supposes, but the both of you are drowned out as blood thuds in his ears - as it throbs in his pants, cock aching by how ridiculously hard it got at the feeling of you pressed up against him. he feels your tits as they squish against his chest, feels the rumble of your laughter, the flutter of your lashes against his neck-

“‘xcuse me,” he mumbles, hurriedly, and pries your arms off - earning a surprised look from you (and a cute drunken stumble). making his way through the crowd, the smell of spilled liquor and sweat and mixed perfume makes his head even dizzier, to the point that he’s stumbling into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

one hand works on turning the lock while the other undoes the button of his plaid gray pants, a shaky groan slipping past his lips at the crumb of relieved tension. he dips a hand past the waistband of his boxers and pulls his throbbing cock out, thumb smearing the milky white pre-cum all around the reddened tip as he grabs onto the sink tightly for support.

“shit,” reo nearly whines at the image playing out in the very front of his mind. it’s almost like he can still inhale you, feel you as the heat of your body against his turns his legs to mush. he bites down on his lip, hard, in an attempt to quiet down the needy gasps that leave his mouth every so often, with every jerk of his hand. he tightens his grip on the porcelain, wrist flicking hurriedly and it makes him squeeze his eyes shut, strands of violet hair falling over his forehead as he groans quietly. please, pretty please, reo. it reverbs in his ears, but this time, it’s breathy, needy - as he imagines you giving him your prettiest wide eyes, tears sticking to your lashes, mascara running down your cheeks as he holds your thighs wide open, watching the way your pussy struggles to fit him in-

“ah- fuck, take it-” a mewl-like sound catches in his throat, toned abs spasming as white spills all over the bathroom sink. he struggles to catch his breath, hips needily thrusting into his hand as he rides out the high that leaves a loud ringing in his ears. throwing his head back, he groans softly as he feels the thick cum pool on his fingers, dripping down onto the pearly white porcelain - staining it with filth.

it takes him a breather to finally flutter his eyes open, the bring white light stinging the bloodshot orbs - and he hums to himself, softly, a sigh following soon after as his shoulders relax. he lets go of the edge of the sink and instead turns the faucet on, cleaning his hands off any filth and patting any residue off his cock with a paper towel in relative silence. a random tune booms through the speakers outside, but the bathroom door do their job mellowing it out as he cleans after himself, taking his time to fully come down his high.

the realization only hits him when he’s finished zipping his pants back up and about to fix his hair, glancing up at the mirror - and sees the red tint on his cheeks and blood clinging to the torn skin of his bottom lip, glossy eyes staring right back at him.

maybe he is a bit fucked up, after all.

you wake up in your bed the next morning, a glass of water along with a tablet of aspirin left on your bedside table. loser :p, the note stuck right next to it says, and you honestly wish you remembered what the little joke is about.

“this is so embarrassing,” you whine into your pillow a few hours later and reo chuckles under his breath at the way your legs kick out, body overcome with shame. “i can’t remember a thing! i don’t know what i was even doin’ most of the night,” you mumble, eyes almost teary as you pull your face away to give reo a discontented look. he hums softly, glancing over at you just for a split second before focusing back on the stocks on his phone screen.

“see, that’s why i told you not to drink this much.” he says matter-of-factly, “you’re lucky i was there. you never know who’s at the party with you, kiddo, so you need to stay aware at all times.”

now, reo has to admit that the sight of your eyes glazing over with tears, a subtle pout on your lips, shouldn’t be making him feel as hot as it does - and yet, he continues, and digs the hole underneath you even deeper.

“there’s many bad guys around and you know it,” he mumbles, lilac eyes momentarily catching yours. you gulp and pull your knees up towards your chest for comfort, tears of shame tingling at your lashes. “you’re a smart girl, after all, yeah?”

were the things he said true? definitely - especially for such pretty and sweet girls like you, too good for your own good. but were you really in any danger last night, with him keeping an eye on you the whole time (except for his little… getaway)? not really - but seeing the anxious expression on your face was worth it. sometimes, it made reo feel like he should just grab you by the shoulders and tell you that you had to grow up eventually, for your own safety and comfort. but then again, he doubted it’d even work anyway, and besides, the adrenaline rush he experienced each and every time he instilled a crumb of fear in your heart was just too good to let pass.

it does feel good to have you cling to him even tighter, after all, he figures as you climb on his lap weeks later asyou two hang out in the evening. your hair blocks his view of the game he’s watching, but it only takes a little squirming for you to get fully comfortable and allow him the full look on the tv screen.

“who’s playing today?” you chime in, leaning forward to grab a handful of popcorn. reo’s voice catches in his throat, unable to help the way his eyes cast down, to where your ass is pressing firmly against his crotch and thighs. the waistband of your shorts sticks away from your flesh, allowing him to take a peek of the thin elastic of your thong - bright purple, just like his eyes. it makes him shudder.

“real madrid and barcelona,” he mumbles, clearing his throat and his hand almost flies down to cup his growing bulge in a weak attempt to hide it. the idea dies down in his mind as soon as he realizes your full attention is on the screen, soft hums leaving your mouth every so often along with little comments about the play. you’re absolutely oblivious to his cock prodding at your bum, hard on pressing right against the fat cheeks and aching. some would say it’s embarrassing how quickly reo could stand to full alert, but honestly… who wouldn’t, right? he shifts in his seat, an arm reaching to rest on the backrest of your sofa. he tries, really fucking struggles to keep his eyes on the screen as well, but your small sounds of excitement or frustration make it near impossible. you fidget slightly,

“ah! it hit the pole,” you mumble, brows knit in focus and hands resting on top of reo’s knees, bare and bruised up from the hours of training. reo closes his eyes, deciding to try his luck - and he bucks his hips up, slowly, as to not scare you off his lap. instead, he’s met with silence - and he glances at you shortly, just to make sure.

he has just the perfect view of your back, skin smooth and glowy, and his hands itch to rest on the curve of your waist. experimentally, he places a hand on your side, and feels you shiver under his fingertips.

“your hands are cold,” you whine, but instead of pushing it off your bare skin, you do the thing he doesn’t even dare to dream of right now - you squirm. reo moves his other hand to his mouth, leaning back into the plush sofa as his hips do the very contrary and thrust up against you.

you don’t seem to acknowledge how uncomfortable the position generally is, how it should be for any other male friend whose lap would be occupied by you. instead, you lean forward slightly, hips rolling against reo’s crotch just slightly, and you sigh softly as you give his knees a gentle squeeze.

can you really be this oblivious? honestly, it’s hard to tell which thought makes him harden more - you just putting up a little facade and actually just teasing him by this point, or, which is more likely considering your sweet nature - you being truly, absolutely unaware of how your fidgeting was making his dick throb and ache. the sounds of the game are long forgotten, barely a haze in reo’s mind, as blood pumps in his ears and mouth salivates at both the sight and sensation on you almost bent over on his lap. he feels your dainty fingers tap against his knees mindlessly, or giving his flesh a gentle squeeze whenever you tense up in excitement over the match. he has to lean his head back, eyes closed and teeth nearly sinking into his hand as to not make a sound.

he rolls his hips up against your bum languidly, the friction sending sparks down his thighs, and it feels heavenly. he thinks of how your small hands will feel as they rest in the same exact place as now, but instead, they work as support when you lower yourself down on his cock. he wonders how you’d squeal if he grabbed at your ass, left his hand prints all over the soft flesh, setting a rhythm for you to ride him. for a second, it even occurs to him that maybe, just maybe, if he pushed himself to make a move, the little sleepover with your best friend really could end up with him splitting you open on his dick.

reo hears his breath hitch in his throat, the familiar tension in his abdomen growing stronger, and it urges him to grind against you just a bit faster. upon realizing that you really are absolutely oblivious to how he’s using you to get off, it seems like most of his limits broke loose. (it’s not like anything would happen if you ever did find out, though, right?) his cock throbs and pulses against the thin gray boxers, pre-cum already sticking to the material and it feels fucking disgusting, but so good. he tips over his climax, eventually, hips stuttering beneath you and just as he feels the first spurt of cum soak into the soft cotton, you let out a gasp, and jolt in his lap.

the sensation is enough to make reo’s eyes widen, a choked groan leaving his lips at the way your ass rubs down on him just perfectly, as if helping him ride his high out. his head feels airy as he listens to your little squeal of excitement mix with the sports announcer’s lively comments, the sound tuned out and barely a buzz in his ears. the sticky and thick cum pools in his boxers, and he wonders if you really cannot feel the obvious wetness through the material of his shorts.

you shift in your seat on his lap, ripping a groan from his throat at the way you press down against his overstimulated cock. turning around to give him a puzzled look upon the sound, the sight of your eyes wide and bright almost chokes reo up.

“you okay?” you ask, a hand reaching towards his face to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. you don’t seem to notice the way perspiration clings to his brows as you touch him.

he gives a nod, swallowing down the saliva that pooled in his mouth, before clearing his throat.

“yeah,” he speaks, and he’s surprised how collected he sounds for someone who had just creamed his pants. his eyes follow the screen, watching the player’s goal from a minute ago replay and it’s actually a little silly how lucky he is to get such a good cover, in fact, as he watches the camera zoom in on his favorite club’s goalkeeper and his sour expression. “just really want barca to win, s’all.”

reo gives up on the hope of you finally growing more self-aware anytime soon when a few more months pass and yet, you still don't notice how your panties would disappear from the hamper or how reo has to excuse himself from the room when you're around - only to come back minutes later, eyes glossed over.

you're starting to make it hard for him not to make a move, and he's honestly stunned that he went so long without finally having his way with you. hell, he even brings you along to the small weekend trip he's came up with, just before the new u20 squad was to be announced. the blue lock team deserves some relaxation before the season starts, even if it is barely a few days, and you do too, considering you had just finished your finals (on top of your class as always). and so, he brings you with him and the rest of the guys and their partners - who at first ask how long you two have been together and then give a surprised look when you laugh, oh! oh no, reo's like a brother to me, really! (something about his longing looks and the way he'd grab your hips tells them different, but oh well, that's not any of their business, right?) the sight of you in all the skimpy bikinis, skin glowing with the tanning oil and cheeks kissed by the sun might just be the breaking point - or at least, one of them, the other being you, going on a date with one of his teammates, and getting your little heart broken.

the sight of you on his doorstep, head hung low and soft little sniffles sounding through the rain outside, is a shock indeed - and reo only has it in himself to coo softly as you stumble right into his arms.

"hey- hey, what's goin' on?" he tries to pull you back from his chest, but the grip you have on his waist is surprisingly strong. instead, he reached for the handle and clicks the door shut, hands moving to rub up and down your arms afterwards. "what happened, bunny?"

your shoulders tremble once, nimble fingers tightening on the material of his white tee. "don' wanna talk," you mumble, and reo wraps his arms around your shoulders, lips pressing to the crown of your head soothingly.

"okay," he mumbles, breathing in the all too familiar scent of your shampoo mixing with the sweet, sticky coconut of your perfume. it brings him back to the frat party months earlier - and makes heat pool in his stomach, even now, as you're sniveling against his broad chest. "i'll run you a bath, okay? you'll get sick."

you don't have it in you to refuse, and in a span of an hour, you're already curled up in the middle of reo's bed, wearing a spare pair of your joggers and one of his sweaters. there's two half-empty cups of ginger tea on the bedside table, and you lay on your side, knees hugged to your chest as you ramble.

reo stares at your face as you speak in a hushed tone, propping his head up on his hand, the other busy with rubbing small circles into your hip. he knows it's bad, god, he knows it's fucked up, but he feels his abdomen tighten at the sight of crystal tears sticking to your lash line.

"and then i said..." you take in a breath, bottom lip jutted out. "said that i- i don't want to do it anymore. that maybe we shouldn't after all, so he got annoyed and tried to change my mind, but-" you cut your rambling off at the silence you're met with, eyes glancing up to check on reo's expression.

he's always been an attentive listener, but this time, the silence almost sounds different. the boy hums, and tugs you a little closer to him. "shouldn't do what?" he inquires; and if it wasn't for the tears smudging your vision, you would've noticed the way he swallows thickly.

you feel your cheeks heat up and scrunch your nose, shaking your head. "you know what, reo," you mumble and he has to force back a sly smile. you're so shy, and now also slightly shaken still from what happened mere two or three hours ago. "i told you already.."

you trail off, the topic clearly bringing you discomfort and yet, reo doesn't drop it entirely. you've grown used to him being so thorough in your conversations, but this time, it makes you fidget slightly.

of course he knows. god of course he does, and the thing keeps him awake some nights, especially after he's scored a goal or two and he has to blow off some steam.

reo's well aware that you've never been with a guy. you've kissed a few of them, yeah, sure. you could've even made out with them, had their tongues down your throat - but you were still innocent, in more ways than one. you were drop dead gorgeous, and yet, the way you would be absolutely oblivious to other guys advance's still hadn't changed one bit since you were barely a young teen. maybe that's why you've never had a man grope you, please you, ruin you - make you stumble over your own feet the morning after.

he's wonders if you've even ever thought of it - if you ever desired to be played with.

"i know," he chuckles slightly and dips his hand under the hem of the thick sweater draped over your waist. a thumb starts to smooth tiny circles across your flesh, mimicking the gesture from seconds before. "i know, bunny. but i've told you already, didn't i, how there's plenty bad guys around." he points out, hand giving your waist a slight squeeze upon feeling you tense up. "why didn't you tell me that you were meetin' someone, hm?"

you can't stand the intensity of reo's violet eyes boring into yours, and so you only give a slight shrug and avert your gaze, "i dunno, reo. just wanted to try something new." you admit, the words now sour on your tongue and you know that this'll be the last time you ever try to go out of your comfort zone for a long, long time. "everyone already did it. i stick out." you grumble, expression soft even as you frown.

your words don't leave him undisturbed - in fact, the expression on reo's face doesn't give out any of the things he's thinking about. if it did, he's sure his eyes would turn black with greed, and he'd most probably drool over the thought of him being the one you turned to instead-

oh.

"why didn't you just ask me?" reo sits up slightly, the arm used to support his head up now straightened. you look up at him, hand itching to brush the hair out of his face - something you seem to always do whenever he has his hair down - but the intensity of his gaze leaves you flustered enough to back down.

"ask you?" you squeak out. it's cute how shocked you sound, reo thinks.

"yeah, why not?" his hand moves further up, warmth resting on your ribs now, just barely below the swell of your breast. you're not wearing any bra - of course you aren't. it's not like you've ever thought of being the slightest bit embarrassed in front of him - not like you've ever noticed how he had to fix his boner at the glimpse of your nipples perking through the shirt you would wear at one of your sleepovers.

the feeling is so unfamiliar, it makes your head dizzy. you and reo have always been touchy with each other - but it's because you were best friends, and it was your way of keeping close, so it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. but now, as he looks at you with such intensity and pushes on the topic that brings you so much embarrassment, the touch seems out of place.

"you know that your first time is really important, right? you'll compare all of your next boyfriends to this," reo hums, giving your flesh a light squeeze. "s'why you have to be real careful who you're pickin' to be your very first, doll." eventually, he pushes himself up straight, and it feels like the air around you has thinned and finally, you could breathe free again.

"still- wouldn't that be... weird, if i asked you to?" you prop yourself up on your elbows and you're surprised you even managed to force the words out. your heart hammers inside your chest, "we're best friends..." you mumble, and reo shrugs - nonchalantly, as if the ache in his boxers wasn't driving him crazy.

"that's what best friends are for," he points out and reaches a hand towards your ankle, fingers gently skimming along the delicate skin. it makes you shiver and fidget slightly as he massages along your calf. "it's nothin' weird. i could just help you out, so you know what you like and how to make a guy feel good, yeah?" you roll your head to the side, face burning. this sounds insane - reo, your sweetest best friend that almost feels like an older brother to you, telling you how he can be your first. what's worse, no matter how uncanny it feels, it surprisingly doesn't raise any objections in your mind.

you must be silent for a short while, because soon he drums his fingers against your knee. (you didn't even notice when his hand moved upwards, and how good it feels.)

"hey, we don't have to," not now, at least. but god, it's getting so exhausting to hold himself back. "but it would be easier for you that way, bunny.. you trust me, don't you?" your heart pulls in your chest at the words, teeth sinking into your bottom lip and reo almost feels sorry for how he's messing with your head.

but honestly, he's not even trying to - after all, he's just saying the truth. if only you gave him the green light, he could show you so much. he knows you better than anyone else, better than any guy out there ever will. he could make you feel things you didn't know were even possible, pull sounds from you that would make you blush with embarrassment. all he needs is just a chance.

the quiet rustling of the sheets brings him back from the train of thoughts and the sight of you, legs slightly spread in front of him, eyes glossed over and cheeks reddened, is enough to choke him up.

"f'course i do," there's a slight whimper to your voice, breath soft as your chest heaves. "s-so, reo, please..."

a grunt catches in his throat as he grabs your ankles, gently, and pulls you towards him - hands immediately moving to roam up your middle. goosebumps rise along your skin, back arching slightly, and you glance up as reo wraps your legs around his hips.

"will make you feel good," he promises, breathily, as he leans down. you can see how blown his pupils are - the pretty violet barely a halo around the black by now. he licks his lips, gaze darting towards yours, but goes to vocalize his question anyway. "can i?"

you would've answered, but the close proximity between you two and the way you can feel reo's soft breath his your mouth makes you act before you can think. you lean in, lips pressing against his in a chaste kiss, and carefully cup his face in your hands.

reo moans into your mouth, shameless, and brings one large palm to rest back on your hip to grab at the soft flesh. you're so sweet, so gentle - treating him with reserve still, but it feels heavenly anyway. just the way he always imagined.

his tongue slips into your mouth, a surprised little sound muffled against his mouth, as he deepens the kiss languidly. your head spins at the feeling of reo's warm tongue, sliding against yours and lapping lazily, fingers lacing together at the nape of his neck. you're pulling him closer, ankles locking behind his hips as he presses himself against you.

there's a bashful mewl slipping past your lips as you feel reo's hard cock rut against your clothed core.

"you're so pretty," he breathes into the kiss, breaking it as he pulls away just slightly, enough to look at you. "see? you're makin' me feel so good, bunny, and we're just kissin'." he grabs your hips with both of his hands now, moving them against his crotch.

the feeling reminds you of when you'd touch your little pussy yourself - late night, under the covers, when the tension and warmth in your tummy would just get too much. but never, ever would you ever think that someone else rubbing at your sweet spots could feel this good. your clit throbs against the cotton of your sweats, and it's almost as if reo feels it at the way he grinds your hips against his harder.

"reo-" you gasp, hand grabbing at his bicep 'cause it's starting to feel like too much. his hands are firm and heavy, holding you against him and handling you however he likes - however he seems fit. it's good, but you have a feeling that it might get even better.

"i know," he coos, chuckling at the way your eyes flutter when he pulls away. he gives your - well, his - sweater a tug, "take it off for me, doll."

you give a small nod and quickly work on taking the clothing off, the air cold against your heated skin. you shiver slightly, both from the change in temperature and the way reo looks at you.

he sighs shakily, hands moving to rest on your waist before slowly moving up and grab at your breasts. you lull your head back into the pillows, the feeling of reo's warmth palms making you shudder. it's new - you've never had anyone touch you like that, ever - and makes warmth pool in your abdomen.

"fuck," you hear him whisper under his breath as he massages at the plush of your tits - fingers experimentally giving a pinch to one of your nipples. you whimper at the feeling, jolting slightly, "fuck, feel how they fit right in my hands?" he flexes his fingers on the flesh for emphasis. "like they were made f'me." a soft groan leaves his mouth, before he leans down and wraps it around your areola.

your eyes widen slightly at the tickling sensation, reo's tongue warm and heavy against your hard nipple, and your back's arching off the mattress before you can register it.

there's a hand slipping past the waistband of your sweatpants, rough fingertips skimming against the skin of your abdomen, just right above your pussy. your hips stutter and chest heaves, making reo moan out at how you stuff his face full with your tits. you're so fucking needy, and you don't even seem to notice. your body acts on it's own, natural and by instinct upon feeling so much pleasure all at once, and it makes his head spin.

he gently dips a finger between your folds, drawing a little circle against your hole and his breath hitches in his throat at the way wetness oozes right out. he pulls away from your chest, a thick ribbon of saliva connecting his reddened lips with your nipple, and looks up at you.

there's one of your forearms resting over your eyes, lips fallen apart as soft little moans slip past. you only pull your arm away from your face when his hand pushes your pants down and doesn't return to it's previous place between your thighs - instead, he taps his fingers on your lips.

you look up at him, eyes tentative, as he breathes out, "lick them for me, baby. so it doesn't hurt."

he knows damn well that you're wet enough to manage a finger or two, even if it is your very first time taking something longer and thicker than your dainty fingers - but the sight of you obediently parting your lips, tongue lolling out to lap at his digits before softly suckling is worth the lie.

reo feels his cock throb as he watches you, intently, as you circle your tongue around his fingers and struggle to fit them in your mouth past his second knuckle.

"good girl," he croons and gives his hard on a firm squeeze through his sweats, just a little something to relieve the painful pulse. your eyelashes flutter momentarily, blood rushing to your cheeks, and he can't help but push his fingers deeper.

you choke slightly, eyes squeezing shut at the sudden intrusion as you feel saliva pool in your mouth and dribble past the corner of your mouth.

"open your eyes," you can barely hear reo speak over your quiet choking. "look at me."

you force your eyes back open, vision blurry with tears as you try to catch eye-contact. tears pool at your lash line as finally, he retracts his fingers from your mouth and pulls his hand away entirely, satisfied.

you sputter, gasping for air, and feel reo's other hand rest on your cheek. he wipes your tears away with a thumb, cups your face in his palm gently and sighs.

"see- that's what other boys would do if they saw you like that," he soothes, voice warm as usual and it brings contrast to his words. "s'why you have to be careful, bunny. don't want anyone to be rough with you, don't you?"

you shake your head quickly, throat still burning and scratchy as you look up. he really does look almost worried, with his eyes soft and focused on you entirely - but it almost seems like there's a haze behind the lilac.

you don't dwell on it too much, 'cause there's already a finger rubbing against your slit again, and this time it slips right in. the sensation isn't entirely new to you - you've played with yourself before, after all - but reo's fingers are so much thicker and longer than yours, feel so rough, and seem to press against your sweet spot almost instantly. you moan sweetly, hips bucking against his hands involuntarily as his fingertip rubs against the front of your pussy. it tightens around his finger, makes him dip it even deeper.

"right there?" he asks breathily, watching as your face contorts with pleasure, and it's enough of an answer. your tummy spasms slightly as you suck in a breath, hips starting to grind against his hand. there's another finger prodding at your entrance, teasingly, before slipping right in next to the other. "wanna see if you can handle two."

there's a slight stretch and burn as you try to accommodate to the girth of reo's fingers, much wider than anything you've ever played with and it is giving you a small struggle. you whimper and shift your hips, hand moving to push at his wrist instinctively.

"can't," you moan out, swallowing thickly as reo gives you a look - almost disappointed, yet intrigued at the same time.

"you've never had anything other than your fingers playing with this little pussy, didn't you?" it comes out as a slight groan, and you turn your head to the side to avoid his gaze. even as you act so sheepish, the slick that coats reo's fingers tell him enough - you're enjoying this.

you're getting off on listening to your best friend talk so sweetly about your pussy, playing with your body how he pleases.

you gulp heavily as you feel his weight shift on the bed, one arm resting across your abdomen and pinning you down firmly. and then, you feel a hot breath fan across your wet cunt, throbbing and creaming for attention, before he takes a long lick up your clit.

your hands grab at reo's hair, fingers tightening to tug and it vibrates against your pussy as he groans. "fuck," you whimper, and he chuckles breathlessly.

"watch your mouth," he muses, humored, before wrapping his lips around your throbbing little clit.

your eyes roll backwards, head pushing into the pillows and you have to bite back a cry at the overwhelming pleasure that seems to hit you all at once. it makes your muscles tremble and head spin how reo seems to work the same exact spot with both his fingers, massaging and thrusting inside, and his tongue, messily and hungrily slurping away. your hips stutter, but don't lift off the bed whatsoever as he keeps them stuck to the mattress with his arm, whining against your heat.

"you can- you can tug," he breathes, purple eyes glancing up at you as he knows exactly what you'll do - give him a little puzzled look, as if to ask you sure, reo? - and moans as his gaze meets yours. you look entirely fucked out already, spit wet on your lips and face pink, eyes wide and needy. he wonders if he looks just as filthy right now, hips rutting into the sheets and soaking his sweats with pre-cum and with his face stuffed in your pussy, devouring you as if he was starved.

he just might be, after years of trying to control himself.

he feels your fingers give a sharp pull at his hair, then push his mouth right back against you until his nose nudges against your groomed mound. it starts to get hard to breathe, he realizes, but you taste just to sweet - almost like honey, thick and sticky on his tongue as he suckles and licks and nibbles, soft little hums and whines buzzing against your twitching pussy.

you feel your back nearly stick to the sheets, thighs trembling against his head as you feel the strange sensation creep up - your muscles tense up as reo's hand presses on your lower abdomen, firmly, a breathy sigh hot on your clit. your eyes widen slightly and you jolt,

"aah- stop- reo, stop," you babble, tongue heavy in your mouth and head hazy from pleasure, but you have to go. embarrassment is dense on your mind as you push at his head, breath picking up and hips bucking up involuntarily. "please, please reo, it feels - ngh- feels funny." you don't realize there's big, fat tears running down your temples now, clear streaks streaming down the heated skin as your voice cracks.

why isn't he stopping?

you choke back a sob, the pleasure white hot in your veins as he groans and pulls back just slightly, enough to speak, "fuck, cum for me. cum on my face, baby." he sounds desperate - looks just the same, too, as you glance at him and the way he works his fingers in and out of your tight heat, fluttering and tightening. big, needy eyes stare up at you, bangs held back by your hand as your fingers pull at the hair, and he lolls his tongue out, grinding it against your clit messily.

you throw your head back, eyes unfocused, as it hits you like a heavy rainfall. the pleasure comes in waves, muscles taut and shaking as your back arches and quiet little cries slip out of your mouth - almost like a chant, and nothing like the sounds all of the other girls made, reo realizes. you sound so, so much prettier. perfect and sweet as you grind against his hungry mouth, cream oozing onto his tongue and juices spilling on his chin. he nearly whimpers, hips rolling against the bed and it takes all of his self restraint not to cum in his pants, too, at the sight of you trembling in his grasp.

the pleasure leaves your limbs warm and fuzzy, a soft buzz in your ears as your climax slowly dies down - but you realize that reo doesn't let up, fingers now having dropped their pace, but tongue still flicking against your oversensitive heat. you whine, swallowing back tears and pulling his mouth away, tugging at the roots of violet hair.

"reo," you sound broken enough, he thinks, and so he gives your clit a last kiss, the smack sounding so obscene it makes you close your eyes in shame. he eases his fingers out of you and gives the inside of your thigh a little peck as well before sitting back on his heels, breathing heavy as he takes you in.

you struggle to catch your breath properly, hair sticking to wet cheeks as you swallow thickly and grab at the sheets - as if you wanted to tug them over your body, cover yourself from his stare and the realization that sits heavy on your mind. reo sighs, nearly dreamily, and sucks your juices right off his fingers as you watch - too exhausted to show any sign of shame.

"m'gonna have you ride my face next time, okay?" he breathes out, giving your hip a squeeze - and before you let his words settle in, you're already nodding along, a soft little whimper leaving your mouth in agreement. it makes his cock jump in his boxers, the way you're so compliant and don't seem to realize the weight of his words.

if only he had known you'd be so easy to convince, he would've made a move a long time ago already, reo thinks to himself as he pulls you up for a kiss. grabbing your wrist to push your hand behind the waistband of his boxers, he drinks up the little moans that slip out your mouth, needy and sweet, nearly enough to make his teeth rot.

reo is so content he's met you, even if it took him long years to realize that your innocence and purity are actually the very thing he needs and wants.

and yeah, you're still different than the other girls - but you're just as oblivious with the way you don't notice his phone propped up on the nightstand.

reblogs are greatly appreciated ! :)

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sunkissed-zegras · 2 months

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⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 (𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐬) | nh¹³

౨ৎ ─ summary | you and nico have only been dating for 6 months but both of you are convinced you've found the one, and a certain theory proves you right.

─ word count | 2k

─ warnings | mention of doubt in relationships (not you and nico's ofc) and slight angst when it comes to ex's, BUT OTHER THAN THAT, tooth-rotting fluff u might just get diabetes 🥹

─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke

─ ev's notes | i know this is SOOOO short but i still hope y'all enjoy! i love nico sm :( hes adorable :(((

You and Nico had been dating for almost 6 months and it has been nothing less of perfection, you'd never thought you'd meet someone who fit every single one of your boxes. He was handsome, tall but also very sweet, empathetic and mature. Before Nico, you had only dated self-involved assholes who only cared about their wants and needs.

Now, with Nico, everything felt different. He listened to you attentively, remembered all the little details you shared, and always made an effort to understand your perspective. His presence was calming, always making sure you were okay and somehow always knowing if you weren't, even if you insisted you were. Everything with Nico was effortless, you didn't have to try - you just knew.

Despite the love that enveloped your relationship, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of doubt that occasionally crept into your mind. It wasn't about Nico himself - he was everything you had ever wanted and more - but rather a lingering fear that somehow, someday, it might all come crashing down. Maybe it was the scars left behind by past boyfriends, the ghost of heartbreaks past whispering cautionary tales in your ear. Or maybe it was simply the vulnerability that comes with opening your heart to another person so completely, knowing that the possibility of pain exists alongside the promise of love.

Yet, with each passing day, Nico continued to prove himself worthy of your trust, erasing any doubts with his unwavering love. He showed you, time and time again, that he was different; that he was here to stay.

"And then I looked inside of the car, and it was what looked like a sixteen year old." Nico shook his head as he bit into his sandwich. "A sixteen year old with a damn Porsche, can you believe it?"

You chuckled at Nico's story, shaking your head in disbelief. "A sixteen-year-old with a Porsche? That's insane. How did can they even afford it?"

Nico laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I have no idea. Must be nice to have such generous parents. My first car was my dad's old car, it was a really old Toyota Camry." Nico took a bite of sandwich before continuing, "I crashed it 3 times before getting my new car."

"Three times?" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise. "And you're still alive to tell the tale?"

Nico chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I wasn't the best driver back then. It's a miracle that Camry held up. I learned my lesson, though. Now I drive like a grandparent."

"Oh, I know." You teased as you finally got your sandwich from the waitress, smiling up at her. "Thank you."

"Can you imagine crashing a Porsche? Imagine how much you'd have to spend fixing it." Nico shook his head as he looked at you.

"Crashing a Porsche? I can't even imagine affording one in the first place, let alone fixing it after a crash. That's a whole different level of stress." You shook your head as you took a bite of your sandwich.

Nico chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Exactly. I'd rather stick to my reliable car. Besides, I've grown attached to it over the years. It's got character."

"Oh no, they put tomatoes in my sandwich." You gagged as you put down your sandwich, sighing.

"Wait, you don't like tomatoes?" Nico looked back at you in disbelief. "How do you not like tomatoes?"

You made a face, scrunching up your nose at the offending tomato slice. "I've just never been a fan. The texture, the taste – it's just not my thing." You began taking the tomatoes out from the sandwich.

Nico laughed, reaching across the table to grab the tomato slice from your plate. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to love tomatoes. Problem solved." He winked, placing the tomato on his own plate.

You laughed along with Nico. "God, they're disgusting."

Nico smirked, his dimple showing as he held up the tomato slice like a trophy. "More for me, then. Tomatoes are so good, especially in a sandwich."

You shook your head, feigning disgust. As you watched him enjoy the tomato slice with happiness, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest. He was so cute. "Well, you can take all the tomatoes you want from me."

Nico grinned, "oh, I will. Don't you worry."

"Oh wait." You watched him eat the tomato. "This is the Olive Theory!"

"What the hell is the Olive Theory?" Nico looked confused as you smiled, excited. "Aren't we talking about tomatoes?" He smiled at your excitement.

You laughed, nodding eagerly. "Yes, yes, but bear with me. So, you know how in 'How I Met Your Mother,' Marshall and Lily have the Olive Theory?"

Nico furrowed his brow, trying to recall. "Vaguely. Something about olives?"

"Exactly!" you exclaimed, delighted that he was playing along. "So, the theory goes that Marshall hates olives, but Lily loves them. Whenever they order food, Marshall always gives his olives to Lily, and it's this little gesture of love and compatibility. The idea is that if one person hates olives and the other loves them, it's a sign of compatibility because it means you complement each other."

Nico's eyes lit up with understanding. "Ohh, I see where you're going with this. So, you hate tomatoes, but I love them. And I happily take them from you. It's like our own little Olive Theory."

"Exactly!" you exclaimed, your heart swelling with affection for him.

Nico couldn't help but smile at you. You were so cute, he couldn't help but laugh at how excited you got. Nico's laughter filled the air, his smile reflecting the warmth in his heart. "You're adorable, you know that?"

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Well, I learned from the best," you teased, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Nico reached across the table, his hand finding yours as he squeezed it gently. "I mean it though, you're amazing. You're adorable when you get all excited about these little things, even if I don't understand half of the references you make."

You chuckled, appreciating his honesty. "Well, that just means we have more opportunities for you to learn and for me to share all my references with you."

Nico's eyes sparkled with affection as he held your gaze. "Yeah and then I can teach you about hockey, it's perfect."

You smiled at Nico's suggestion. "I'd love that! Hockey lessons from the expert himself. Now people won't call me a puck bunny."

Nico grinned, his enthusiasm contagious. "You'll be a pro in no time. Maybe you could even join the team, who knows?"

"Maybe I'll even be captain."

Nico shook his head, "Nah that's kind of my job."

You laughed as you gazed at your boyfriend, a warm smile playing on your face. "Alright, Captain, I'll let you keep the title. But maybe I can be the team's official cheerleader?"

"Well you're already my cheerleader so that wouldn't work very well, would it?" Nico shrugged as you laughed and shook your head.

You couldn't help but laugh at Nico's response. "I guess you're right. Can't double up on roles, can we?"

Nico smirked, "No can do, princess. You're my lucky charm not the team's."

You nodded your head in faux understanding as you played along with Nico's words. "Right, right. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good cus I need my good luck charm." Nico smiled, his eyes warm with affection as he squeezed your hand once again.

"And you'll always be mine." You replied, his words filled you with a warm, fuzzy feeling, and you squeezed his hand gently in return. As you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that no matter what happens, one thing remained: your love and support.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#❀ evangeline's 1k celly!!⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚#nico hischer imagine #nico hischier smut #nico hischier imagines #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier #nhl imagines #nhl angst #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fic #luke hughes #njd #jack hughes

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thelostmagicians · 10 months

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Booksmart | Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve Harrington’s head may be full of air, but his heart is full of love. [4.4k]

Fluff, comfort, slight angst, insecure Steve

♡

Steve Harrington isn’t a genius. He barely passed his classes in high school, couldn’t get into college, and can barely keep his minimum wage job. He’s been belittled by his parents too many times to care about their opinion and he knows compared to his friends he isn’t as clever or witty, but he’s okay with it - at least he thinks he is. It might sting when Robin and Eddie tease him for being too slow or when Dustin sighs in frustration because he can’t keep up, but the ache dissipates when they look at him in adoration.

He blames his failing love life on his lack of intelligence. Although girls find his himbo-ness endearing, his relationships never last long. Most of the dates he goes on end up as dirty hookups in the backseat of his car and on the off chance a girl stays longer than a month he can slowly see the irritation replace the endearment in her eyes. He was just something to do during the inbetween phase of graduation and moving out of Hawkins, a trophy to conquer - to finally have slept with the previously known King. He used to be okay with that at the beginning, he got his needs met while girls crossed him off their list, but over time he craved more. He saw how Nancy looked at Jonathan, how Joyce laughed with Hopper, and how Robin blushed around Vickie. He was desperate for that feeling of being wanted and loved.

Even though he's surrounded by people who love and accept him as he is, he can't help but wonder if things would’ve been different if he was just a little smarter.

“Robin I’m telling you she started speaking a different language halfway through dinner,” Steve grumbles as he’s shelving the horror section.

Robin rolls her eyes at him, “Just because you don’t understand the words she’s using doesn’t mean she was speaking a different language, Steven. I don’t even think she knows anything but English.

Steve sighs under his breath.

He had gone on another date last night, but didn’t even make it past the appetizers before he made up an emergency and left. The night started off great, the Indiana summer evening had a cool breeze, he opened the door for her, and was rewarded with a kiss on his cheek when he presented her with flowers. Valerie had been nice, beautiful, and smart - maybe a little too smart for Steve. Don’t get him wrong, Steve loves strong, smart, and capable women. He loved hearing Valerie speak about physics and graphing linear equations, he loved learning about what interested her, but as the night went on he could see the light in her eyes fading as he kept asking her questions. The final straw had been when he told her he hasn’t read a book since high school and she laughed lightly before saying “you really are only a pretty face.”

“Maybe, I’m just destined to be alone, or like a back up plan for girls who come back to Hawkins after giving up on their big city dreams.”

Robin sighs and gives him a reassuring pat, “Steve, you’re a good man. You’ll find your one, trust me on this.”

Before he can say more the bell jingles as a gust of hot air is let in. Steve groans as he spots Dustin’s mop of curly hair and hears the chatter of 6 other teens. He holds the door open with his arm as he sees Lucas struggling with Max’s wheelchair.

“You guys can’t keep coming in here, Robin and I actually have work to do you know.”

“We wanted to pick a movie for movie night,” Max says.

He sighs softly as he meets her eyes. Steve’s always had a soft spot for Max ever since they’ve met and it’s only gotten softer since then, everyone knows this, but the kids tend to take advantage of this and use Max to get their way.

“Alright two movies max and no rated r ones.”

As he hears the bell jingle again he starts his greeting in a monotone voice, “Welcome to Family Video, my name is St—” he chokes.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask softly.

He’s still coughing and panting slightly as he tries to give you a reassuring nod. Robin makes her way to the front to hand Steve some water and finish introductions.

“What he means to say is his name is Steve and I’m Robin. You can come get us if you have any questions.”

You nod politely, finally tearing your gaze away from Steve as you start browsing through the racks. Steve, however, can’t seem to stop looking at you. He’s seen a lot of beautiful women in his life, but none of them held a candle to you. Everything about you was just perfect to him and he didn’t even know you yet. His eyes repeatedly traced the slope of your nose, down to your plush lips, and back to your furrowed eyebrows as you read the back of a tape.

You lift your head up and he blushes as you make eye contact.

“Do you have any recommendations for sci-fi, I just moved to town and need something to keep me from getting bored?” you ask shyly.

“Err- We have a sci-fi section over there” Steve points to the rack behind him where the kids are gathered and quietly arguing over which movie to pick.

You speak as you make your way over, “Yeah, but do you have any recommendations for me? I feel like I’ve seen all the good ones already.”

Steve's face falls as he tries to come up with an answer.

“Have you seen Star Wars?” Dustin speaks up

Max and El groan loudly as you shake your head.

“I tend to stay away from franchises, but what’s it about?”

Before Dustin can answer, Mike beats him to it, “It’s about galactic adventures of these characters, it’s pretty cool.”

“We were planning on watching it tonight, we always have movie nights at Steve’s on Friday. You should join us!” Dustin exclaims as he tries to shoot Steve a sly wink.

Your eyes grow wide at the sudden invitation as Steve rests his head in his hands too embarrassed to speak.

“Is that alright with you, Steve?” You ask kindly.

Steve’s breath hitches as he hears you say his name, he slowly meets your gaze as he gives you a slight nod trying to avoid choking on air again.

Robin smirks at Steve as she hands you a post-it, “Here’s Steve’s address. Movie starts at 7 and bring as many snacks as you’d like!”

You grab the post-it and shoot everyone a small wave “I’ll see you guys then!”

Steve feels like he can finally breathe after he hears the soft slam of the door behind you.

“I can’t believe you would do that, just invite a stranger to my home like that,” Steve groans as he fixes his hair, again, in the hallway mirror. He glances down at his polo debating if he should change his shirt for the fourth time.

“Steve, she agreed to come while seeing you in a Family Video vest, I don’t think your outfit is what you should be worried about,” Jonathan teases him as he passes him a coke.

Steve shoots him a sarcastic smile before checking his watch. It’s 7:02, you should’ve shown up 2 minutes ago and he’s a nervous wreck. He sees your headlights before anyone else does and trips over Will’s backpack as he waits to open the door on the very first knock.

“Sorry I’m late, the petit fours took longer than expected.” You smile at him holding out a large container filled with small cakes.

He gives you a confused look too embarrassed to ask what petit fours are, so instead he takes the container and waves you in.

“What brings you to Hawkins?” Eddie asks.

“I actually came here for work, Hawkins laboratory needed another scientist to look at all the crazy stuff that’s happened here.”

Everyone basks in the uncomfortable silence as you mention the lab before Nancy speaks up, “You work as a scientist? You seem pretty young.”

You hesitate slightly, folding your hands in your lap, “I am young, but I graduated college at 16 and recently got my PhD and my advisor recommended me for this job, so here I am.”

Steve’s heart falls to his stomach, you were a genius, a child prodigy of some sort and you’ve accomplished so much at such a young age. There was no way you would even be slightly interested in him, but part of him was willing to take that risk - be okay with whatever you spared him because it was better than not having you in his life at all.

The movie is ignored as everyone pays more attention to you and your genius-ness. He hears voices all at once but all he can focus on is yours. The way your laugh ends in a higher pitch than it starts in, the way you softly reassure Nancy that college isn’t hard, but his favorite is when you say his name when you ask for his opinion on the theories the kids present to you. It makes him feel important like you care about what he has to say and you value his thoughts just as much as you would anyone else’s.

Steve might’ve only met you today, but he was already enamored. You might’ve knowingly opened the door only to Family Video, but you also unknowingly opened the door to his heart and started to fill every corner of it with you.

Steve doesn’t think he’s read this much in his entire existence as he has this month.

The first thing he did the morning after movie night was go to the library and check out as many books as he could about everything that sounded smart. He’s inhaled almost every book on poetry (specifically Shakespeare), astrophysics and European history. You’ve come to every movie night since the first one and you try your best to visit Family Video after work just to chat with Steve and Robin. He was slowly falling in love with you and he wasn’t going to let his dumb brain be the reason he lost you. He forcefully read every book from cover to cover, prying his eyes open with the memory of your impressed smile anytime he fell asleep. He’s made countless flashcards and pesters Robin to quiz them during their shift.

After two months of revising and memorizing he thinks he finally finds the courage to ask you out. You’re the last one to leave tonight, helping Steve clean up after everyone either left or claimed a spare room.

Steve’s hands are clammy as he ties the trash bag into a pretty bow, “I was wondering if… I mean you don’t have to… but umm, like if you wanted to go out. With me, I mean.”

Your eyes trace his face as you clench the empty red vines wrapper, “You mean like a date?”

Steve nods, unsure of your reaction. Part of him hopes you’ll say no and put him out of his misery, so he can finally stop learning, but a bigger part of him hopes you’ll give him a chance.

Your lips upturn in a shy smile as you fiddle your thumbs, “Yeah, I’d like that a lot. What did you have in mind?”

“How about next Friday, we ditch the losers and have our movie night? I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can catch a movie?”

You respond with a quick kiss on his cheek as you grab your purse and head out. Steve rests his head on the back of the door as he pumps his fist in the air and tries his hardest to not wake Robin and Eddie with his cheering.

You’re nervous as you pace in front of your door. Steve makes you nervous, but you don’t hate the feeling. You’ve never felt this way about a boy before, boys always had a competition with you, a majority of your dates ended up with the two of you trying to up each other with accomplishments, but with Steve everything is different. Even though the facts he tells are wrong, it was still endearing to watch him try.

You’re broken out of your thoughts with a knock on your door. You smooth down your dress and look in the mirror once more before swinging the door open. Steve stands there in all his glory, hair perfectly done, snug jeans, and a bouquet of flowers covering his stupidly handsome face.

“These are for you,” he pushes the bouquet towards you with a surprise force that you have to step back to avoid them pressing into your nose.

“Thanks Steve, they’re beautiful.” You set them down gently at the nearby table mentally making a note to find a vase after you come back home.

He opens his car door for you, waiting until you’re settled in before jogging back to his side. “There’s a French movie playing tonight, I think it’s about Marie - Annette, you know the queen who liked cake?”

You giggle quietly but opt to ignore his mistake because he just looked too fucking cute with furrowed eyebrows and a nervous smile.

“And after the movie I was thinking we can stop by somewhere for a late night snack?”

You nod excitedly eager to finally spend time with him far away from the eyes of your prying friends, “I didn’t know you knew French?”

“Uh, yeah.”

The movie was… boring and bland. Steve didn’t understand anything happening so instead spent the entire time admiring you, the furrow of your eyebrows, the tilt of your head, and the gentle bite of your lip. He remembered you mentioning to Robin that you were fluent in French, so thought a foreign film would be a good idea for a first date, but now he regrets his choice especially since you spent the drive to the diner asking him questions about the movie. Questions he didn’t know the answer to. Steve has charmed his way through life, but he wasn’t sure how much longer his charm would last with you, he had an inkling that sooner or later you would be able to see through his facade and you would see him as a disappointment.

You had a hunch that Steve was lying about knowing French and your hunch was confirmed when his shoulders tensed as the ticket guy told him the movie didn’t have English subtitles. He played it off with a laugh and a wave of his hand, but you could tell it made him nervous. You thought the movie was alright, but your favorite part was feeling Steve’s eyes on you. You try to be mindful when asking him questions, keeping them vague and more about opinions rather than asking him questions that have a right or wrong answer. He responds as vaguely as possible, gauging your reaction to see if you’re pleased with his answer or if he needs to backtrack and fix his opinion.

Your conversation at the diner starts to get more personal as you ask each other about your likes and dislikes. You learn that Steve broke his arm learning to ride a bike, his favorite color is green, and he’s always wanted a dog. Everything you learn about Steve just makes you like him even more and the potential of falling in love with him makes you giddy with happiness. Your hands brush occasionally as you walk back to his car. He bites his lip hesitating to grab your hand as he peeks at you from the corner of his eye. You make the decision for the both of you and take a hold of his hand swinging both your arms as he blushes.

“You’re really cute Steve Harrington,” you say as you force him to face you before gently pushing your lips to his.

You spend every free time you have with Steve now. It’s been a month since your first date and since then you’ve gone out plenty of times and if you’re not physically together then you’re talking for hours on the phone. Steve’s able to open up to you more than he has to anyone else and it’s only been a few months of knowing you but he knows he’s in love, yet he can’t ask you to be his girlfriend. He does everything a boyfriend should do, calling you during breaks, kissing your bad days away, and hugging you just right when you’re on the verge of tears, but he still can’t find the courage to ask you to be his, officially.

You express your concern to Nancy and Robin at an impromptu girls night, thrown together after a rough week for all of you.

“I just don’t know why he won’t ask me, I always want to ask him myself before I see him, but then I lose my nerve. Maybe he doesn’t even like me like that and I’m just reading into things,” you whine as you smear a homemade face mask on Robin's face.

“Trust me, Steve is a goner for you,” Nancy replies as she squints to make sure her brushes on the nail polish perfectly.

“Nance is right, Steve is in love with you, but you just make him nervous.”

“I don’t understand why though, how do I make him nervous when he’s Steve Harrington,” you sigh dreamily.

Nancy and Robin giggle as they see the childish frown on your face. You push your face into a pillow whining into it like a petulant child.

Nancy rubs your back gently, “Look it’s not my place to say, but Steve isn’t the smartest tool academically. And you’re this child prodigy and that makes him nervous.”

Robin nods in agreement, “Yeah, you do know he spent months reading all sorts of books just to impress you right? He isn’t actually as smart as he pretends to be. He just memorizes a bunch of stuff the days leading up to your date.”

You huff in annoyance, “Yeah, I knew that on our first date when he took me to that French film. But I don’t love him because he can tell me facts about the mesozoic era. I love him because he’s him.”

Nancy and Robin share a knowing look.

“You love him?” Robin whispers.

“What?”

“You just said you love him,” Nancy clarifies.

You breathe in deeply before letting it out, the weight of what you said finally sinking in. “Yeah, I do. I really do.”

Both girls squeal as they pull you into a hug, face masks and nail polish quickly forgotten.

You fall asleep that night knowing the next time you see Steve you’ll tell him. Tell him how much you love him and how he means to you.

Unfortunately for you and Steve, you aren’t able to spend any time alone lately. Work is crazy for the both of you and any time you have off it’s spent with the group. While you love spending time with your friends, you’re dying for a second alone with Steve. A second that only you both can cherish when you finally tell him how you feel.

You’re hoping you can finally catch a moment alone with Steve at the summer bonfire by Lover’s Lake. Almost every young adult in Hawkins comes out of hiding for this annual bonfire, usually thrown by college kids as a final hurrah before summer break is officially over. You hung out with Nancy and Robin for a while and meet some new people, but you’re aren’t able to find the one person you want to see. You finally spot him parking his car and hurriedly shoving his family video vest in the trunk, but before you call out to him you’re blocked by a freckled boy wearing a smug smile.

“Well if it isn’t the new genius of Hawkins,” the boy teases, voice filled with malice.

You smile politely, “I’m sorry you’re–”

“I’m Hagan. Tommy Hagan, surprised Steve hasn’t mentioned me considering we used to be the best of friends before he became a loser.”

You’ve heard about Tommy, mostly through passing from Nancy and Jonathan and based on Steve’s disgruntled face every time his name was mentioned, you decided Tommy Hagan wasn’t worth your time.

“How can I help you?” You ask in a monotone voice to show how disinterested you are.

Before Tommy can start you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist and lips brush against the side of your head. You turn to see Steve’s grimace at Tommy before his eyes soften landing on you.

“Hi hon,” he whispers gently, his left arm moving from caressing your hip to soothing the ache in your shoulder.

“Hey baby.” For a second it’s just the two of you lost in each other’s eyes, you wonder if everyone else can see how lovesick you are for Steve. Before you can whisk him away for yourself Tommy interrupts again.

“Damn, Harrington. Didn’t think I’d see you go all soft again after what Wheeler did to you.”

You rolled your eyes at the mention of Nancy. It’s been years, both Steve and Nancy were over it, being happy for each other and supporting each other as friends. Yet everyone still brought it up because they had no other dirt on Steve.

“Didn’t know you were home for the summer Tommy,” Steve replies ready to end the conversation with his former friend.

At this point you see Jonathan and Eddie glancing from their spot near the fire. Both of them looking at Steve, silently asking him if he needed them. Steve shakes his head at them and squeezes your shoulder readying to lead you away.

“Yeah, summer is the only time I have off now. Between college and my internship. It’s hard out there man, but you wouldn’t know that, would you?” Tommy smirks knowingly as he pushes Steve’s buttons. He knows college has always been a sore spot for Steve especially since he was still stuck working at Family Video.

Steve grunts in response hoping his disinterest is enough to stray Tommy away from the both of you, but with Steve’s luck Tommy turns his attention to you.

“Surprised he can keep up with a genius like you sweetheart.”

You wrinkled your nose in disgust, the term of endearment turning sour coming from a mouth other than Steve’s.

Tommy continues to go on, swaying from the few too many drinks he’s had. “Did he tell you he barely passed high school? His dad complained to mine about how much of a disappointment he turned out to be. Can’t even get a job at his dad’s firm with the brain he has.”

Steve loosens his grip around your shoulder, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“You’re telling me your girl hasn’t caught on to the kind of screw up you are Harrington? You sure she’s a genius, or maybe you found someone that aligns with your IQ.”

At this point everyone is watching the words fly out of Tommy’s mouth, some snickering others shooting Steve looks of pity. Tommy Hagan is ripping him to shreds in front of everyone and yet all he can focus on is you. A look of disappointment mixed with frustration glazing over your otherwise sweet disposition. He sees his friends pushing their way through the crowd but before they could defend him he hears your honey like voice calling out for Tommy.

“What university did you say you go to, Tommy?” you ask sweetly.

“Indiana University of Business,” he smirks behind his beer.

“And I’m assuming your daddy paid for it? Cause you sure as hell didn’t get into school by your merit, considering you spent most of high school with your head so far up people’s asses that you couldn’t get enough oxygen to your brain. Hence, why you and your stupid ass are still playing into high school politics at your grown ass age.”

The smugness on Tommy’s face disappears.

“And what do you want to do with your future Tommy? Join daddy’s business? Turn out exactly like him? Cause last I heard he spends more time with his new family than he does with you. Maybe he finally got a child he actually loves.”

You knew it was a low blow, bringing up Tommy’s family issues, but you couldn’t care less. After everything he said to Steve, he had it coming and you only wish you were around in high school so you could’ve put him in his place earlier.

You heard a low whistle from Eddie, “Well guess the shows over folks. And looks like we have a clear winner.”

People start clearing out going back to mind their own business and you grab Steve’s arm leading him far away from Tommy’s frozen stance.

“Guess the secret’s out,” Steve mumbles.

“Huh?”

“Now you know I’m not really smart, so..” he trails off.

You smile, arms twisting around his waist pulling him close. “You know, I’ve met a lot of smart people in my life, but don't you dare, even for a second take Tommy’s words to heart. Because I know you, and I know that you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met.”

Steve pinches your chin, holding your gaze before whispering out a shy “yeah?”

You hear the insecurity laced in his voice as you nod fervently. “I kinda figured you weren’t as smart as you let on from our first date, but I said yes because even though you aren’t a brainiac you have a heart of gold. I see the way you take care of the kids, how you take care of your friends. And I love how you take care of me. I love you and everything about you, Steve Harrington.”

Steve blushes, his cheeks turn a rosy hue as he grabs your waist pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so sweet you think you’ll get a toothache.

“You really love me?”

“I really do.”

Steve presses another kiss before murmuring out an I love you against your lips.

Yeah, Steve Harrington is stupid. Stupidly in love with you.

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nathaslosthershit · 23 days

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Everyone's Favorite Uncle (TD!OP81)

(Part 6 of Teen Dad [Can be read on its own]) Summary: The 1st time Logan met the Piastri twins and the 3 other times he cemented himself as the favorite honorary uncle. Warnings: Mentions of the 'Tensions Rise' fight. But mostly a whole lot of fluff

1. First Meeting

At 3 months old, the twins hadn’t met anyone who wasn’t family, their parents being extra cautious about bringing them around new people. As expected, these first 3 months as parents had been far from easy for 19 year old Oscar and 18 year old Honey. Especially now that Frances, their daughter, had started teething earlier than usual. Being as it was a painful experience for the newborn, Frances had been non stop crying, causing her brother, Hudson, to cry in return. After days of minimal sleep, the house was a mess and so was everyone in it.

After weeks of asking, Oscar had finally let Logan come over to see the twins. Had he known what the state of his home would be at the time, he probably would have pushed back the visit even more, but Logan refused to let Oscar cancel for something as trivial as a messy house. But he was unprepared for just how messy the home he was entering was going to be.

Fortunately, when Logan had arrived, all seemed well in the house. The twins were awake and not crying, and Honey had gotten a quick power nap in while Oscar tried to clean up the living room. Logan had noticed the lack of energy his long time friend seemed to have when he entered but he had brushed it off as the first few months of fatherhood having drained his energy. They talked for a bit while Honey fed the kids in the other room, all seemed well until…

“Oscar, she is crying again and I just fed and changed her. She isn’t due for a nap either. God, I think it's her teeth again. Can you go get the teething ring? I think it's in the fridge.” Honey asked as she barged into the room, clearly stressed.

Oscar immediately got up to check the fridge while Honey offered a quick hello to Logan. After a few minutes of silence and Oscar making loud banging noises that only made Frances cry harder, he came back in, empty handed.

“It's not there, love. Could you have placed it somewhere else?” He asked, starting to panic as Frances’ cries got louder.

Logan felt awful watching this go down. He knew it wasn’t his fault but guilt ate away at him while he stood there, not knowing what to do.

“Crap, I don’t think I washed it. It may be next to the sink? I'll go wash it while you get the soothing gel. Um… Logan, can you hold her?” Even though Honey had phrased it like a question, Logan realized it was not as she shoved the baby in his hands. Thankfully he had held babies before so he wasn’t so helpless, but this pressure to not hurt the screaming child did make him shake a little.

Sitting down on the couch, he readjusted the baby in his arms, starting to sway her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He watched as his two friends hurried off while he noticed Frances starting to quiet down. Minutes later when both parents barged in, they witnessed magic. Their previously fussy daughter was now cooing and giggling while in the arms of their long time friend.

“How?” Honey asked, too shocked to get out a full sentence.

“I-I don’t know she just stopped crying and started staring at me.” Logan replied with the same amount of shock in his voice.

“You are a miracle worker.” Oscar said. At this, Logan looked up at the two teen parents, taking in their disheveled states. He would have laughed if it wasn’t so sad.

An idea came to his head.

“You two go clean yourselves and rest a little, I’ll watch her. Maybe bring Hudson in so I can meet him as well.” Logan demanded. He wouldn’t have used such a commanding tone if he didn’t think they would fight him on this. As much as they needed the extra time to themselves, they were far too humble, maybe even stupid, to ask for help.

With a few quick ‘are you sure' and ‘you are a lifesaver’, the two parents slowly backed out of the room after bringing their son in.

They got two hours to shower and nap before it was time to take their kids back from Logan.

The twins might have been too young to realize it at the time, but this was the moment he became everyone’s favorite uncle, especially Honey and Oscar’s.

2. First words

Ever since Logan had met the twins a year ago, he had frequented the Piastri household to see the family. It was Valentine's day and Logan, having no plans or someone to spend it with, had stepped up to offer to babysit so the two parents could get a break. While he was happy to watch the kids, he also had ulterior motives for visiting.

For the past few months, ever since the twins turned 1, Oscar had been stressing about how long it was taking them to say their first words. Honey was less stressed than her boyfriend, as she knew she took much longer than most kids to say her first words and ended up fine, but it was getting to the point where she started to get a little cautious. What they didn’t know was that for the past few months Logan had been trying to throw his name into the mix. While Oscar tried to sound out the word “Dada'', and Honey pushed “Mama”, Logan had secretly been trying to get them to saw “LoLo”. He had gotten a ‘Lo’ from Hudson so far but he still wasn’t satisfied.

“Don’t worry, I have done this so many times already. Go out and have a reasonable amount of fun, two kids is enough for you both for now.” Logan joked as he started pushing Honey and Oscar out of their own house. He didn’t feel the need to sit through a 45 minute lecture he had been given far too many times already.

Once they had left, Logan began his master plan. While he changed, fed, changed again, washed, and played with the twins, he kept repeating “LoLo” hoping they would finally bite and say it. Sadly though, there was nothing but the usual gibberish from the two.

He felt defeated as he opened the door to Oscar and Honey, who had clearly had a fun night as they came stumbling in. The kids were still up as they had napped late and Honey wanted to put them to bed once she got home.

“Thank you SO much Logan. You are a gift from God as usual.” Honey slurred as she went to change, leaving Oscar and Logan alone to talk.

As Logan packed up to head to his apartment, Oscar said hello to his kids. Just as he walked out the door, Logan heard a very clear and very distinct “LoLo” from behind him. As he turned around, he was met with Hudson reaching out to him and a completely stunned Oscar holding the one year old.

Realizing he had been caught, Logan entered fight or flight mod.

“Logan, what have you done?” Oscar asked in a stern tone.

“Nothing”

“Logan, talk.” Oscar had really mastered the Dad voice, he realized. Logan was a 20 year old man, he didn’t need to explain shit, but he still crumpled as Oscar looked at him.

“For the past few months I have been trying to teach your children to say “LoLo”. They hadn’t said it yet, I swear, this was the first time.” He rambled as if he was a kid that had been found with his hand in the cookie jar.

Oscar mentally facepalmed at the confession.

“Alright. Fine. I am mad but I will be even more upset if Honey finds out. Under no circumstances can she know that you did this, or that your name was her son’s first word. Got it?”

Without saying a word, Logan saluted the Australian in front of him and quickly left the household, shaking off the fear Oscar instilled in him but also thrilled he had been Hudson’s first word.

3. Logan saves the day

Hudson and Frances had been sick for the past week due to a virus they had caught at a playdate. Sadly, as the three year olds got better, their parents got worse.

As Oscar and Honey tried to push through the day, they became miserable due to the fact they couldn’t shake this virus off and that it was a beautiful day out that their kids had to miss out on because their parents were stuck inside. But after both twins gave their best puppy dog eyes to their father, pleading to go out, Oscar had no choice but to call in reinforcements.

45 minutes later, Logan had both twins in the backseat of his car as he drove to the nearest ice cream parlor.

Two hours, some big scoops of ice cream, and one park visit later, Logan carried two sleeping toddlers in his arms as he reentered the Piastri home.

4. Distractions

(This takes place during Tensions Rise so if you haven’t read it yet, I would advise you do so)

Wanting to give Honey a moment to collect herself, Logan walked the twins to his driver’s room where he had a very comfortable couch he knew they would fall asleep fast on. He gave them water and tucked them under some extra blankets he had and right before he got up to leave he heard Frances speak up.

“Lolo, does daddy not love us?” the three year old girl asked.

“Franny, why would you think that? Of course he does.” Logan did not feel equipped to have this conversation and started to panic, wondering if he should call for Honey.

But he knew she needed a bit of space.

“He didn’t have breakfast with us when he said he would and he made mommy cry outside when he didn’t come.” Hudson answered for his sister.

Logan took a deep breath as he tried to come up with some kind of answer.

“Me and Osc- your dad’s jobs are hard and take up a lot of time. Sometimes things happen and plans change, but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less. Everytime he is traveling for work, he is always showing me pictures of you guys and telling stories. That is all he talks about!” Logan said, putting smiles on the two twin’s faces. “You know, when he and your mom found out they were having twins, I was one of the first people he told. We were teammates and he had such a big smile on his face during a team meeting that I forced him to tell me. Ever since then I knew he loved you both so much. Even if he hasn’t been around too much, I have no doubt he adores the two of you.”

With that, he gave the two kids a kiss on the forehead as he walked out of the room, hoping to cheer up their mother as much as he had helped them.

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader

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ohdeersthings · 1 year

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Soft as Clouds

Neteyam x F!Reader

Summary: You weren't well known in the clan, and when you become friends with Tuk, no one believes her.

Warning: Straight up Flufff

When you were growing up, you found yourself wanting to linger in the background more than insert yourself into the everyday activities of those your age. Like now, you were currently lounging in a tree, eyes facing up at the clouds as they moved by at their own pace.

You were a gatherer for the clan, not that anyone knew. You would rise before the sun to go out and gather the sweetest, most bountiful food your clan had ever tasted, leaving it in the baskets by the main fire circle. The fruits were always plump and juicy, herbs and spices nicely placed in pouches for easy access.

You wanted to begin early to end early, opting to stay out of sight of others. Now, some knew of you, the elders for example always took a small notice on how you were much more reserved than others your age. Your parents of course knew you, but you were a failure of a child in their eyes. At your age you should've been chosen for a mate, or made a mark on the clan in some positive way, but you didn't, so they turned their attention to your more 'promising' younger siblings.

You never cared, preferring your more modest lifestyle of peaceful serenity.

"Whoa! What are you doing up there?"

But Great Mother had other plans for you.

You gazed over the side of the branch you were currently laying on, brushing your hair that had fallen into your eyes away, spotting a young girl in the forest floor below you.

This was not just any girl, oh no, this was Tuktirey, Toruk Maktos youngest child.

You let a small smile slip on your face as you slowly began a decent, swift and agile, like that of a cat.

You knelt infront of her, your eyes meeting hers that were still so full of child like wonder, "what are you doing here small one?" Tuk giggled, looking side to side as if looking for something, or someone.

"I was following my brothers, but I guess I got lost," Extending a hand to Tuk, "Well, let us get you home then," her small fingers wrapped around yours and you both began your walk, going back down the path you had made from the times you ventured out here.

Tuk couldn't help but wonder why she had never seen you before, yet she thought you were very beautiful. The aura that surrounded you was so soft and peaceful, it made her feel instantly safe.

"Why do you come out here, it's very far from home? Are you a hunter or a gatherer? Your hair is very pretty, can you do mine like that? Wait! What's your name?" Tuk rambled out, skipping beside you. A chuckle escaped your lips, you liked Tuk, she was very silly.

You stopped and knelt down beside her, her yellow eyes stared into your soft green eyes and she couldn't help but think you held the forest in your eyes, "My name is (Y/n), I much prefer to gather, and I think your hair is fine just the way it is, simply because it's yours,"

You couldn't help but boop her nose, her nose scrunched as she let out a laugh. You smiled, "now, what is your name?" Tuk felt like you already knew, but she puffed out her chest proud, "My name is Tuktirey, but you can call me Tuk!"

"Such a pretty name," you gasped, standing up and resuming your walk to the village. Tuk swung your intertwined hands back and forth, both of you finding comfort in eachother.

When you had finally happened upon the village, you could hear everyone in a state of panic. Tuk groaned, her ears pinned back, "I think they realized I was gone," you knelt beside her, both of you hidden just out of sight with the plants, "then maybe you should appear,"

Tuk hugged you, you wrapped your arms around her to return the embrace. "Will I see you again?" She asked, pulling away enough to see your face.

"Of course, I quite like you," you smiled, slowly giving her a nudge to the panicked clan members.

When Tuk had emerged out of the brush, the panicked cries turned into one's of relief and joy. Many ran over to embrace her, but by this point you had already vanished without a trace.

"Tuk! Where were you, we were worried sick!" Jake exclaimed, sweeping his youngest into his arms and giving her a extra tight hug. "I tried to follow Neteyam and Lo'ak but I got lost, but it's okay!" Tuk laughed, "I found (Y/n) and she helped me get home!"

Jake and Neytiri exchanged a look, as did some of the other clan members. Your name was no familiar, almost positive there was no one in the village who has that name.

"Tuk, what are you talking about?" Neytiri wondered, taking her child from her mate and settling her on the ground in front of her, "There is no one named (Y/n) in the village," Neytiri began to examine Tuk for a head injury, but Tuk pulled her head away in annoyance, "I know what happened, (Y/n) helped me, she's right,"

But when Tuk turned around to where you had been, you were gone, "she was right here," Tuk cried, but her parents chalked it up to fatigue from being lost all day.

"Come, you must eat and rest," Neytiri pulled Tuk along by the hand, which Tuk did almost sulkly, glancing back one more time to see you emerge and give her a wink before disappearing behind everyone's backs. Tuk grinned, now happily walking with her Mom.

~.~

Weeks had passed and Tuk now snuck off any chance she had to find you, sometimes waking up early to join you on your gathering. You were like another big sister to her, you were so soft and gentle with her, it almost reminded her of her own mother. You would show her the best places to gather fruit and herbs, show her how to move silently through the forest so not to disturb it.

In return, Tuk gave you simple companionship. You always thought it was fun being alone, but Tuk gave you a shining light of what having someone around could be like.

When Tuk would return from wherever you two had disappeared to, she would tell her family all about it, now causing Jake and Neytiri to worry that she was making up stories to make herself feel important like her siblings.

"Ma Jake, I'm beginning to worry about Tuk," Neytiri spoke one day when she watched her youngest venture off into the brush before she could stop her, "it is not safe out there but yet she continues to go, we must stop her," Jake could only hum in agreement.

"What's the name of the person she speaks of? (Y/n)? Are we sure she's not a person in the clan?" Jake questioned, Neytiri feeling her shoulders sag in exhaustion cause she had asked any gatherer, hunter or healer she could think of and no one knew about you.

"Maybe we should send Neteyam with her one day? Make sure she's really safe? See what he can find out?" Neytiri fired off question after question, Jake taking her hands into his as he calmed her down, "That's sounds like a great idea, if there's anyone who can find out it's him, come, let's find him,"

They both set off to find their eldest, who they were sure was going to throw a fit hearing about their plan.

~.~

Tuk panted, running up to a clearing where she saw you relaxing by a small pond, toes and feet floating in the clear water. "I'm here! What are we going to do today?" Tuk skipped over, taking a seat next to you as your turned your gaze to her, a smile coating your face.

"What would you like to do?" You asked, Tuks face scrunched up in thought before asking you, "Could we go for a swim next to the waterfall?" You thought about it, before nodding. It was very close to the village, but you were looking forward to spending time with Tuk.

"Awesome!" She cheered, pulling you up off the ground and began the walk, with you giggling behind her.

The water had been very liberating of any stress or thoughts that plagued you. You sighed in bliss, leaning back to float in the water as your eyes gazed up at the clouds, the soft white making you forget everything.

Tuk had jumped in, splashing you and causing a laugh to erupt from your stomach as you flipped over, watching the young girl giggle and continue to splash you with water.

You began a water assault back, both of you not even paying attention to how loud you were being which caught the attention of Neteyam nearby who had been searching for Tuk under the instructions of their parents.

"Tuk!" He called, walking into the rocky terrain that held the waterfall where he saw Tuk soaked and wading waist deep in the water, her breath heavy as though she ran for miles, yet a smile plastered her lips.

You were no where to be seen, ducking under the water to find a rock that had caught your eye.

"Tuk, it's time to come home, let's go," he helped her out of the water, not noticing you surface up to your shoulders in the shade of a tree that grew on the nearby bank.

Your hair had rested on your face a little and your shoulders, the shade making your eyes almost glow as you analyzed Neteyam. He was your age, currently training to be the next clan leader and yet here he was, fetching his sister.

Tuk through a glance over her shoulder to see you in the shade, throwing up a quick wave goodbye and taking off in front of her brother.

Neteyam had caught her look and couldn't help but turn back, catching a quick sight of you.

A beautiful, young woman who was lounging in the water covered by shade. Your eyes are what caught his attention the most, but just as quick as he'd seen you, the next second he blinked in shock before opening them to find you gone, the water only rippling from where he saw you, well, where he thought he saw you.

Neteyam was now becoming a quick believer of Tuk's stories.

~.~

Now that Neteyam had caught a glimpse of you, he started to see you everywhere. Although, it was out of the corner of his eyes, because when he would turn to see you, your figure was gone, the place he had seen you now empty or void of anyone or anything.

He had told his parents that he didn't see anyone with Tuk, but that was only because he feared how crazy he would sound. Seeing someone who wasn't entirely there and then them being gone the next second. They'd send him straight to the Sky People for evaluation.

Neteyam had followed Tuk out of the hut one late afternoon, Tuk turning to him confused since he has never followed her before, "What are you doing?" Neteyam just smiled, playing an act to follow his parents instructions, "Well, I've missed hanging out with my favorite littlest sister," he roughed up Tuks hair, causing her to hiss and push his hand away, "so I figured we could spend the rest of the day together,"

Tuk glanced sideways towards the path, a bit unsure about how you'd reac to Neteyam coming along, "I don't know, you probably wouldn't be up for it," Neteyam raised an eyebrow, his thoughts consumed on what a child would be doing that he himself couldn't or wouldn't wanna do, especially so late in the afternoon.

"Well, if you're sure," Tuk grinned, taking off down the path faster than Neteyam had expected, "Tuk! Wait for me!"

~.~

You had been lounging in a tree again, this time basking in the setting sun's glow. You felt so warm, the lights rays bringing a sense of belonging to your being.

"(Y/n)!" Tuk exclaimed, running into sight as you glanced down at her, your lips showing your usual soft smile that you saved for her.

"Neteyam is following me, come on let's hurry!" Tuk tried to rush you, but you only laughed, "Why are we hiding from your brother?" Tuk felt her cheeks puff up in annoyance, "Come on (Y/n)! I don't want him to find you!" It wasn't often Tuk would throw a childish fit with you, so you knew this must be important to her.

You quickly climbed down, taking her hand and pulling her out of sight just in time for Neteyam to come around the corner. He stopped and took a quick look around, running a hand through his braids aggravated. "Come on Tuk! Mom and Dad don't want you out here by yourself,"

Neteyam continued on through, running right past where you two hid in a flower bush before emerging a minute after he disappeared.

Tuk laughed but quickly stopped when she saw your disappointed face, "I'm sorry," she mumbled, kicking the dirt with her ears pinned down.

"Let's walk and talk," you took her by the shoulder softly, "Is there a reason you keep running away from your family? I understand you want to be friends, but surely I'm not worth worrying your family over?"

You led her down a path as Eclipse began to set in, the forest coming to life with lights and sounds. "Well, I thought you might want to be kept alone, like how you were before we became friends," Tuk answered, but you knew better, "but?" You pushed, Tuk groaning before replying.

"Well, Neteyam has his hunting parties and future clan leader responsibilities, Kiri has healing and grandma, Lo'ak and Spuder go on treks through the forest, I just wanted something that was mine for a while," while a bit childish, you could see what she meant. It was nice to have something all your own, even if it wasn't necessarily yours to keep or own.

Tuk kept her eyes trained on the ground in front of her, hands rubbing together embarrassed. Tuk thought that you would be upset with her, but she was shocked when she felt your hand rub soothing circles on her back as you continued to walk together.

"Do not feel bad, sometimes we wish for things that cannot always be, but if it makes you feel better, you will always be my first and best friend," Tuk felt giddy knowing that you felt the same as she did. You truly were a big sister to her.

"I think it's time we returned for the night," you told her, Tuk nodded, feeling a little tired. "Come," you picked her up, her arms wrapped around your neck and head rested on her shoulder.

You smelled of flowers and mist, a calming scent that soon had Tuk drift off to sleep. Which means she couldn't return to her parents on her own, meaning you had to face the leaders of the clan.

Entering the village, you took notice that many had already gone to dinner, leaving a clear path straight to the leaders tent, where you could hear inside Jake Sully, the Olo'eyktan and Neytri, his mate and Tuks mother frantically asking Neteyam where Tuk was.

You held Tuk up with one arm, softly clearing your throat to make your presence known as you lift the drape, all three coming to a freeze as they saw you, a stranger, with Tuk fast asleep in your arms.

You dipped your head in greeting, eyes over looking the two males and straight to the female who quickly walked to you with fear and concern for her baby. "She is alright, just sleeping," you whispered, not wanting to wake up Tuk as Neytiri gently slipped her from you.

Neytiri nodded a head in thanks, though her eyes held confusion. Your eyes slipped over Jake Sullys form, a small gesture of hello from another head nod before you allowed your eyes to stay trained on Neteyams shocked yellow.

'She is real,' is all Neteyam could think as you both played a stare game, you breaking it off with a soft smile before disappearing. He found the sudden ability to move, dashing to the drape only to pull it back and find you gone, like a phantom.

"I think, that's (Y/n)" Jake mumbled, his mind wracking to find any sense of familiarity of you, but found none. Neytiri felt a small rumble from Tuk, glancing down at the small girl to find her awake and giggling softly, "Told you she was real,"

~.~

Neteyam couldn't get you out of his head, now actively looking for you, but you weren't anywhere to be found. Tuk had told him all about you, and this time he listened, but she wouldn't tell him where you go.

"(Y/n) doesn't like to be sought after, you can only find her when she wants you to find her," Tuk laughed like it was the most simplest thing in the world, but it just made Neteyam frustrated.

He knew so little about you but felt a strange need to be near you, hear your soft voice again and find out more. Call it a crush, infatuation or even obsession, he just wanted to see you again, even if for a last time.

It was only when he took a stroll through the brush on a warm afternoon, that he found you. Only you were laying patch off soft moss, eye shut as you looked at piece with the world.

The world itself seemed to be happening around you, each breath you took was like a breeze from Eywa herself. Insects and small animals passed you by, as if you were just one with them.

Neteyam had approached you slowly, footsteps light as he observed your face. It was beautiful in his eyes, your soft lashes caressing your cheeks, lips parted ever so slightly with each breath you took in. Your hair seemed to flow around you in the vast green foliage.

He was too lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice you open your eyes and look back at him. Your green eyes traced his features as well, taking in the rough yet handsome face he was gifted with. He truly was his mother's child.

When he saw your green eyes staring back at him, he fell back from his squat in shock. You softly hummed, a smile so small but just for him.

"What are you looking at?" He coughed, his face feeling warm from your stare.

You sat up slowly, his eyes glancing at how your body was bending, hair falling over your cheeks to frame your face.

Eywa help his sinful thoughts.

"Oh you know," you drawled, "The clouds,"

~.~

#avatar #avatar the way of water #atwow imagines #avatar: the way of water #atwow fanfiction #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam x drabbles

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snowy-vee · 2 months

Text

BBM BABY

n/a: This is just a writing test! Trying to write more things and to get motivated again, Uni is kicking my ass :'( Enjoy idk know how to classify it, maybe...

INDEX

Secret relationship meets commitment issues> Ellie Williams x fem!reader

You were late.

Very late.

As usual.

You finally started breathing at a normal pace once you entered the bar and found your friends' table. You greeted everybody with a 'hi' as you took out your little mirror to see if your makeup looked good or if it was smudged all over your face.

“You look good,” Dina said, passing you your drink of choice, a large glass of rum and cola. “I thought you weren't going to make it.”

“Yeah, I had to wait until my mother left for her night shift at the hospital, and I missed the last bus to come to this side of town, so I had to walk all the way here.”

“That was dangerous. You should've called us to pick you up,” Jesse said, drinking his beer. Dina nodded, agreeing with him.

“And risk my nosy neighbors seeing me and telling my mother? No way,” you said, taking a long sip of your drink and letting out a refreshing sigh at how good it tasted. “Besides, you can take me back.”

You looked at Ellie, who was wearing a black t-shirt and her casual jeans. She raised her eyebrows. “And when did I agree to that?”

“Come on, Ellie, take her back home! Jesse and I are not going home after this, we have plans,” Dina said, exchanging a playful glance with her boyfriend. You gagged, hitting her on the shoulder. “We need privacy! I don’t think I'd enjoy having her or anybody watching us.”

“I... First of all, why do we need to know that after this you two will...?” Ellie said, with a disgusted look, finishing the rest of her soda in one go. Dina shrugged, rolling her eyes and mumbling 'as if you wouldn’t love it’.

“That’s right, babe. Ellie can get jealous; she barely gets any action these months, let’s not rub it,” Jesse said teasingly, making Dina and you laugh as you looked at Ellie.

She locked eyes with you, and your laughter ceased. “Oh, I do get action. In fact, I'm having a lot lately.”

“With who?” you asked, momentarily looking at her hand on your thigh. Obviously, because of the table, Dina and Jesse couldn't see that.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” she said, smirking. You broke eye contact, finishing your drink.

“My girl, that’s some gentlewoman shit,” Jesse said, raising his hand, waiting for Ellie to dap him up, which they did.

“Whatever, let’s dance. I love this song,” Dina said, getting up and grabbing Jesse’s hand to go to the dancefloor with the rest of the people dancing. She was truly a party girl; she couldn’t be in a place without having fun and shaking her hips a little.

“You did not answer my question,” Ellie said, her hand moving up and down your thigh, and your furrowed eyebrows made a playful smirk appear on her face. “Not funny.”

“With who else? Aren’t you my girl?”

“I better be the only one.”

You two were now whispering while looking around. Yep, you two were in a relationship, a private and very secret one. Not even your best friends could know about it.

It wasn’t because they wouldn’t approve or because you two were complete opposites, but because of how your mom and dad would react. Having strict parents was not for the weak, and you knew that if they found out about you sneaking out for some parties, the punishment would be something light, maybe being grounded for months without your phone and you could maybe negotiate with some good grades, but having a partner? That was off the table. And being a girl? You had zero idea if your parents were homophobic; you guys never talked about it, and they never made negative comments about the community.

But if the girl was Ellie Williams, that was a problem, yes or yes, because your dad and Joel seemed to hate each other to death. You did not want to think about how they would ship you off to one of your aunties' houses just to keep you away from her.

Believe that you tried to not feel attracted to her, just keep a casual and civil friendship for the sake of the group. A little bit impossible when she smiled at you, when she grabbed your hand, when she kissed you the first time on the couch of her garage after a blunt session…

“Bathroom break?” she asked, getting up and walking to the bathroom first. You waited a couple of seconds, smiling toward Dina when she looked at you and waved for you to come dance. You shook your head, muttering ‘Bathroom,’ as you got up and went to it.

Soon, Ellie’s hands were around your waist, and her lips smashed into yours; she missed you. This week your mom worked day shifts, so the time you were at school, she was working, and the time you got out, she did too, so there was no time for Ellie to enter your bedroom from your window and have a little moment. And school was a risk with all the gossiping people around.

This was the first kiss you two shared in a week, and it was Saturday, so it wasn’t shocking for you how needy her hands felt caressing your torso; it made you happy. “Can I eat you out later in the car?”

“Ellie!” you couldn’t believe that she broke the kiss and looked you dead in the eyes just to say that. You started laughing. “…yes.”

“I bet you’ve been touching yourself with that image I sent you Tuesday,” you rolled your eyes at her cocky tone and nodded shamelessly.

“I’m sure you’ve done the same with the one I sent.”

“Uh, yes, ma’am… Are you wearing the same blue bra?” Her eyes drifted to your chest; you were wearing a white and blue polo shirt buttoned up, but it was tight, so it made that area pop.

“Just how you asked me to.” With a big proud smile, you lifted her chin and pulled her face up to kiss her again. She started walking towards the sinks, making you sit on one of them once your low back touched it, your legs wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer while her hands were undoing the buttons of your top.

The voice of Dina singing in the hall close to the bathroom made you break the moment and push Ellie into the closest stall. “What the heck-”

“Shh, hide!” You closed the door and quickly pretended as if you were cleaning your hands.

Dina entered the bathroom, going straight to a stall. “This bar is getting lame; I’m ready to leave.”

Her voice sounded a little bit more drunk than it did when you arrived. In less than five minutes, she was finished, and now she washed her hands beside you. She looked at you and through the mirror pointed at your polo shirt.

“It is hot in here; you should have worn something with less fabric,” she simply commented.

“Yeah.” You smacked your lips, making a soft ‘pop’ sound, awkwardly looking around. “If you are ready, then I'm ready to leave too.”

“Yes, let’s hang out more tomorrow in Ellie’s garage.”

“I don’t think I can make it, but Ellie knows that you are planning on going?”

“She’s Ellie, she’s cool with that. If you were less awkward with her, you would know; she does not bite.”

‘Oh, yes, she does,’ you thought, looking at the stall she was in. Dina finished freshening up and grabbed your hand, leading you out of the bar to Jesse’s car.

“Els must be around here smoking. She will take you home; you know her car.” She hugged you and kissed your cheeks before getting in the car, waving goodbye.

Part of you couldn’t believe that she just left you there, even if Ellie was with you, but the other part understood; you also wanted to have intimacy with your lover. Talking about the queen of Rome, she came out of the bar with her car keys in her hands.

“Are they gone?” You nodded, opening the car door after she unlocked it. “Do you want to go to your house? I mean, your mom is not there, and your dad is on the road…”

“I hate when you sleep there and then you have to leave so early so we won’t get caught. I feel guilty. Pass.” You were in the back seat, undressing yourself, revealing the new blue underwear set that she had been waiting to see in person. “Now, drive to some place in these woods and make your wish come true.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Ellie put her seatbelt on, and she drove away from the bar and deeper into the forest. As soon as she parked, she threw herself into the back seat, causing you to burst into laughter.

“I like you so much.” You whispered, brushing your noses and giving her a peck on the lips.

“I love you.”

Before you could understand or digest what she said, she was kissing you with so much lust and passion that you thought you heard wrong. There was no way that she just said the L word like it was nothing; maybe it was the heat of the moment, yeah…

#ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie fanfic #lgbtq #wlw #bbm baby #lizzy grant #ellie williams x female reader #fem reader #poc reader #snowy vee

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oracle-of-dream · 6 months

Text

The Boy Next Door

Minors DNI

Summary: You recently moved into a new town, so you decided to talk a walk around. While trying to find your way around you bump into your new neighbor, Jeno Lee, who's willing to show you around.

Warnings: Pet names, Dom!Jeno, big dick Jeno, Oral sex (male receiving), cum swallowing, Male reader, hand job, Jeno's trying his best to hold back

Wordcount: 3k

Your parents just finished helping you move some of your boxes into your new apartment in town. You only moved so you could attend the nearby university, but they acted like you were leaving for war. Asking almost every five seconds, “Are you sure you wanna live here?” Or trying to get you to promise you’ll call every week. You had to push them out the door as you told them goodbye. They went down the stairs, telling you how much they loved you every few steps. You watched them walk to their car, about to close your door, until you saw your mom stop to talk to two guys.

You held the door open just enough to see what was going on. There were two men; one tall with black hair and a white sleeveless shirt with muscular arms, but his back was to you so you couldn’t see his face. The other was shorter than him with longer black hair with a black jacket and jeans, also facing away from you. You were tempted to go downstairs and push your mom into the car, but you saw her point at your apartment door and the two guys turned to look. You closed the door before you got to see their faces at all, feeling your ears and cheeks warming up.

“Goddammit,” you cursed to yourself as you went to start unpacking. You had a feeling that your mom was meddling in your life already, one of the reasons you’d left home in the first place. You started unpacking your clothes from your suitcases, the rest of the boxes would be brought in by the movers who would be around later in the day.

About twenty minutes into unpacking, there was a knock at the door.

You answered it, opening it slowly. “Yes?”

There were two men at your door, whom you recognized as the ones whom your mom spoke to. The shorter one waved, “Hi! I’m Renjun, and this is Jeno,” he pointed at the taller man behind him. Renjun had two-toned hair going from black to silver, straight eyebrows, and a frame that would put most people into gender envy in a moment. While Jeno, has an even tan, an incredible jawline, and a side profile that should’ve been the face of a magazine. Jeno didn’t speak very much, but he was watching every move you made, it felt like he was sizing you up… “Your parents stopped us when we were coming back from our errands and let us know that you’re our neighbor! So I thought it would be a good idea to come over and meet you.” You tried to focus on Renjun speaking to you, but it was had with Jeno looking so intently at you.

“T-That’s really nice of you. I’m y/n.” You replied.

You and Renjun talked for a few minutes. He told you that he’s a student–and so is Jeno, at the university. They’ve been here a year and are part of a friend group that Renjun wanted to introduce you to. As Renjun was telling you about his friends, you could hardly hear him clearly over the sound of your heart. It was racing with anxiety from Jeno staring at you.

Renjun looked off, thinking of anything else to say. “I think we have to do more stuff around town, but I hope we can see you again soon! I’ll call the others over and we can maybe do something all together.”

You smiled shyly, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

Renjun and Jeno went into their apartment, Jeno made eye contact with you just as soon as he turned to close and lock his door. And when you closed your door, it felt like you finally snapped back to reality. You tried to shake off the feelings and continue unpacking.

After a few hours, the movers arrived at your apartment and started moving in the furniture. So you took that as a chance to get out and explore a little of the area around the apartment. You told the movers where you’d like things and to contact you when they finished, and then you took off.

The town was pretty nice. Kind-of quiet except for campus, so you spend most of your time walking around the school. Trying to see where your classes would be and finding relaxing places on campus for future study plans. You spent more time mindlessly walking before you realized you didn’t know where you were.

You reached in your pocket to try and google your way back home–but couldn’t find it. You searched all your pockets again and checked around on the ground, even walking around some of the places you’d been before. It was gone. You sat down on a nearby bench with no phone and even more lost than you started.

“Well… Shit.” You cursed under your breath, trying to think of a solution. You closed your eyes trying to think back to when the last time you saw your phone was and where you might’ve left it. You remember using it in the car with your parents, but when you started moving it was a blur–a sudden shock of cold hit your neck and snapped you out of thought. You shot up, eyes wide, “WHAT THE FUC–”

You saw Jeno standing next to you, looking deep into your eyes, with a bottle of water in his hand.

“Oh… hey Jeno,” you sat back down.

“Hey.” He said back, handing you the water this time.

You gently took it back from him.

“What’s going on?” His voice was deep and vibrated your eardrums listening to it.

“It’s nothing, I think I dropped my phone somewhere. And I’m a little lost, so I don’t know how exactly to walk back home from here.” It felt more embarrassing to say it out loud,

Jeno’s eyes were soft with understanding. “Do you to borrow my phone, to call it?” Jeno offered his phone to you.

You took it and typed in your number. It rang a few times before someone picked up. “Hello?”

You were shocked to hear your mom on the other side of the phone. “Mom!? Why do you have my phone?”

“Y/n! I found it in the car! You must’ve left it here. I’ll bring it over tomorrow.”

You could slam your head on a tree. Now you’ll have to kick her out again when she comes over… But at least your phone wasn’t stolen.

“Who’s phone are you calling from?”

You tried to wrap up your call with your mom quickly as she started asking questions. “It’s my neighbor’s, he’s going to help me get back home. I gotta go now, bye.” You hung up before she could continue the interrogation.

You turned to Jeno with a shy smile. “My mom has it… I left it in her car.”

He nodded a little. “Do you need to do anything else, or should we head back to the apartment?”

“We can go back, I have nothing else to do.”

You followed Jeno to the parking lot. Since school hadn’t started yet there weren’t any cars other than a black motorcycle waiting in the parking lot.

“Is this yours?” You pointed at it.

He smiled, “Y-yeah, I fixed it myself.” His smile made his whole demeanor seem softer and you felt a knot in your stomach swell.

He reached into his backpack and handed you a helmet with a bunch of video game stickers on it. “I wasn’t expecting company, so I only have one helmet.” You struggled to put it on until Jeno took it from you and slid it onto your head. “Can you come closer?” He asked.

You shuffled a little closer as you felt his thick arms wrap around you to reach the back of the helmet. You tried to look up at his face, but he moved you back down–leaving you just to stare at his chest. You thought about what it would feel like if you touched it, squishy maybe. Or maybe his harder because he’s moving his arms right now. You could feel yourself twitching at the thought of touching him, but mentally slapped yourself for being so horny. Jeno was just trying to be helpful…

When Jeno finished affixing the helmet to you, he got onto the motorcycle and waited for you to get comfortable behind him. “It’s okay to hold tight, I know it might be scary.” Like he read your mind, he could feel you being hesitant about holding his waist, he pulled your hands around him anyway and made sure you were holding him tight. His waist was surprisingly small for his broad torso.

When Jeno started the engine and the both of you started moving, you gripped a little tighter. He started slowly out of the parking lot and slowly picked up speed on the street. The drive wasn’t very far, but it felt like a movie to you. Riding around, sunset behind you, and Jeno’s insane visual looking over his shoulder at you. There was a bump in the road that shook you a little and your hands loosened their grip a little, in a panic you scrambled to grab onto Jeno again. You held him by the waist of his pants, too scared to shift more. I felt him shift and something hit your hand, something hard.

Was he hard? You thought to yourself. The thought that he was hard while you were pressed against him made you… feeling something. You leaned more into him, letting your hands slowly drift down his stomach. You felt it again, just for a moment.

You needed more. You decided to get a little bolder, reaching down again and rubbing your hand against it. Jeno’s back arched softly and he shifted, almost grinding against your hand.

“Y/n?” Jeno said softly.

You stopped and realized you were home. “Sorry!” You let go and almost fell off the motorcycle.

Jeno’s gaze was sharper than before like he was angry. He opened his mouth to speak, “I–”

“I’m sorry, Jeno. It was an accident, really. I barely noticed it!” You lowered your head in shame.

Jeno walked close to you, so close you could hear his breath hitting the helmet. He unbuckled the helmet in one swift move and slid it off you. “Why are you sorry?” He asked.

You were at a loss. “I… I was–”

“Touching me?” Jeno’s voice was stern.

You braced for him to explode at you, with your eyes closed. But instead, he held your hand and guided it. You felt him again. You opened your eyes to see Jeno slip your hand under his shirt, rubbing you against his abs.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“You wanted to touch me, right? At least do it where I can see you, and touch you back.” Jeno let go of your hand, leaving it under his shirt and watched you. “So touch me then, you can still do that. Right, Kitty?”

Being called Kitty was almost enough to make you pass out. But being told to basically grope him outside your apartment felt mental. “C-Can’t we go inside,” you begged.

“I’ll only come in you if you want me to.”

You nodded. “I want to inside.”

He chuckled. “Careful what you wish for.”

You brought Jeno to your apartment, fumbling with your keys as he stood almost on top of you.

“You think these walls are soundproof?” He knocked on the wall.

You hurried to get your key out of your pocket and jam it into the lock. You opened the door and held it open for him. Jeno stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He deadbolted the door shut.

“Baby boy, can you hear me?” Jeno said, slowly walking to you.

You stumbled over your words, “y-yes. I can.”

“Then why didn’t you answer me? Are these walls soundproof?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know…”

“Well need to find out then.” He smiled. You felt a rush zip through you, and you felt your tip already creaming from his words. “Come touch me, now.”

You walk to him and awkwardly touch his chest.

He chuckled. “You can have a little fun, I’ll tell you if you do bad.”

You started groping at his body, squeezing his boobs and lightly grinding against his leg. Jeno was wearing a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants, so it showed how much he was enjoying your touch. But his bulge was insane, it was maybe 9 inches long and 3 inches at its thickest part.

Jeno caught you looking. “You did this to me, so you have to accept it.” He pushed your hand down, past his waistband, and you got to hold it in your hands. He was cut, a little hairy, but most importantly huge. It was just as you guessed.

“Don’t sit there, start stroking it.” Jeno was more stern this time.

You softly started moving your hand, and he sucked in sharply. It pulsed and twitched in your hand. His balls were heavy too. He started to push against you, all the way into a wall. His head lay in the crook of your neck and he kissed it while his hands explored your body, focusing on your ass as he skillfully slid your pants off of you. He was really rough, squeezing and slapping it. But he calmed down when he heard you hiss in pain from one smack.

“You okay?” He was colored with concern, but couldn’t bring himself to look at your face. Leaving his head buried in your neck.

“Y-Yes, it was good. Again. Please.”

Hearing you beg, made it difficult for him to try and keep himself together. All parts of him were moving. Jeno moved his legs and hips to time your hands, fucking into them. His mouth was working around your neck. And both his hands were playing with your ass.

The both of you were moaning into each other’s ears, drinking the other’s lust.

“Jeno,” you called. His big cock twitches at the sound of your voice filling his ears. “Kiss me, please.”

He cupped your face. You smashed your lips on him, it was messy and hot, tongue everywhere and spit dripping down your connected mouths. His hands reacted automatically, one hand gripped at your hair and the other groped your ass.

“Y/n, I’m really trying to hold it in, but I don’t know if I can anymore.” Jeno almost whined.

“Just tell me what you want.”

"Baby, I need you.”

“Can I suck your dick?” You asked so politely, how could he refuse? Nodding his head with anticipation. He watched you drop to your knees and slowly slid off his pants. Jeno went commando to the gym today and was even more thankful now. His dick slapped against his stomach as you set it free. Jeno already was moving his hand to your head to move you closer. You take his length into your hands and rub the precum over his tip.

“Holy fuck, you haven’t even started and I already feel like I’m gonna cum,” his voice straining, another groan leaves his lips as you gather spit to lubricate his cock. You decide to take your time, enjoying the way his eyes begged desperately as you give his cock small licks. “ I can’t hold it anymore, gonna fuck your mouth.” Before you could say anything, your mouth is filled with his dick. His hand is pushing you in, the tip of his member is hitting the back of your throat, and his eyes are rolling to the back of his head as he feels you gag on him with each thrust. You could feel every vein on your tongue and the way his length was twitching in your mouth, seconds away from release. Jeno felt you gag really hard, and pulled you away from him to breathe.

He was shaking, weak from your mouth. “Holy… shit.” Jeno was taking deep breaths. “Are you okay beautiful?” He pulled your hair to tilt you to look at him and saw your blissed-out expression, mouth open with your tongue waiting for more. He was stunned.

"More please, Daddy," you mumbled as he gripped the sides of your head, your cheeks flushed and your forehead sweating more and more.

"Daddy's close, little one–can you keep up?" Jeno asked.

You nodded, never breaking eye contact with him.

Jeno slowly slid you back onto him, pushing his was completely inside your mouth. You squirmed and moved, shifting the muscles in your throat. “Y-you’re so tight sweetheart, gripping me so fucking tight,” Jeno swiped a tear away from your eye. “N-Now let’s take a minute. I don’t wanna cum yet.”

You wanted him to finish in your mouth. Now.

You started moving on your own. You gave licks to the underside as his dick was deep in your throat. With one final push, you bottomed out on his cock and deepthroated him fully, leaving Jeno’s mind hazy and body shaking. He tried to push you away or slow you down, but he was too weak to stop you. “Cumming,” he whispered, throwing his head back as his muscles tensed with every spurt of cum he releases into your pretty little throat. Jeno came hard, your name spilling out of his mouth as he rode his orgasm.

You dutifully swallow everything. He had a lot stored. Jeno slid down the wall, chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath, some of his hair plastered to his forehead and his temple.

Breathlessly, Jeno spoke, “I told you… I wasn’t ready. I didn’t get to fuck you yet.”

You giggled. “There’s always another time. I don’t think you can survive a round two with me.”

You slowly helped Jeno to his feet and pulled up his pants. His cock still coated in your spit. “Will I see you again?” You asked.

He mindlessly nodded. “I’d really like that.”

You kiss him on the cheek, smiling as if you didn’t just suck out his soul. “Then, I’m sure Renjun is waiting for you. Come by whenever you’re ready for that next time~”

Jeno slowly walked out the door in a haze, toward his apartment. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

You heard his door open and then shut.

“Jeno, where were you!?” Renjun shouted.

You closed your door and started unpacking your boxes. Looking for enough of a surprise to get Jeno ready for tomorrow.

#nct smut #jeno smut #jeno x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #lee jeno smut #lee jeno x reader #jeno #lee jeno #jeno lee #kpop x male reader smut #jeno x male reader #oracle of dreams

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