#for twenty minutes. this dude's in the bathroom and i can fucking HEAR him and it doesn't sound like he's doing anything
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Good fucking lord I hate living with a man
#not art#if your name begins with a K ends with a Y and you live with me i hate you#unironically.#woke up twenty minutes ago with the migraine that made me fall asleep in the first place back in full force#so I'm like#man i gotta take something for this before my skull splits open. pills are in the bathroom.#for twenty minutes. this dude's in the bathroom and i can fucking HEAR him and it doesn't sound like he's doing anything#and I'm not about to fucking start talking when i feel like I'm going to throw up so I'm just.#growls. took Trazodone to go back to sleep but my body's not going to like that in a few hours.#vent ish
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR EIGHT
in which graves are dug up, walls are built, and nobody knows what happened in the bathroom that night.
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 4.6k+
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
8:00 ────ㅇ────────────── 24:00
DINGUS: hey, do you guys remember the first night they met?
BIRDIE: you mean when we took her to the bar to meet everyone and they very clearly fell in love at first sight? no, doesn’t ring a bell.
DINGUS: stop being such a fucking smart ass
NANCE: @DINGUS What about it?
DINGUS: she just called me asking me about it. said eddie was nice until you guys went to the bathroom. apparently he acted differently when you guys came back, but i can’t remember anything about what was said?? did eddie actually start acting differently???
BIRDIE: i remember that! thought it was weird or eddie just started overthinking? i dunno. i was in the bathroom obviously.
ARGYLE 😎: oh i remember that night very clearly brochacho
ARGYLE 😎: kind of surprised you don’t, dude
JOHNNY: Oh God yeah @DINGUS you’re living up to your namesake dude
NANCE: You really don’t remember, do you?
DINGUS: @NANCE and how the fuck do YOU remember? you weren’t even there, nance. you were in the bathroom as robs put it.
NANCE: Best friend privileges. You really might want to remember, Dingus.
BIRDIE: @NANCE message me real quick?
DINGUS: hey! no fucking whispering! that’s not fucking helpful! @JOHNNY @ARGYLE 😎 what did i say?
NANCE: @BIRDIE I will. Let me call Eddie first.
—
HOUR EIGHT - 11:00 PM
You weren’t trying to eavesdrop - you were trying to sleep. If anyone asked you, you could have honestly defended yourself. The couch was uncomfortable, your back aching as you repeatedly twisted back and forth to just try and find a minute of rest. Your mind was reeling, still replaying all of your moments with Eddie leading up to this night. Suddenly, you were overthinking it all. You couldn’t differentiate between things that really happened, or things that you’d simply blown out of proportion due to your innate need to spin the narrative of Eddie being the villain.
“Yeah, I… I think she’s sleeping.”
You hadn’t even heard Eddie opening his door finally, your back facing the hallway as you stayed curled up tightly. His footsteps are heavy as he gets closer to you.
“She’s… uh, she’s on the couch.”
Immediately, you can hear a shrill voice shouting over the line. It’s hard to miss. You can imagine the way he’s wincing, holding the phone out from his ear in an attempt to not let her scolding damage his ear drums.
“I didn’t think she went to bed!” he hisses, trying to stay quiet, under the impression you’re still asleep, “I- Jesus H. Christ, Nance! Calm down, calm do-” he’s cut off as the anger over the line still leaks into the calm air of the room, “No. No, I wasn’t- I was going to let- Nance. Please, can I get a fucking word in?”
You hold your breath during his pause, and the clear scolding, Nancy’s scolding, finally ceases.
“I wasn’t going to let her sleep on the couch,” he says slowly. You almost turn over, almost face him and show him you’re very much awake and not sleeping. “I didn’t think she’d go to bed while I was in there. I thought… I thought- Jesus, I thought at worst, she’d snoop through my shit. Maybe go for a walk or something. I didn’t- I just… Fuck, I needed space. It’s just been a long night.”
Nancy’s voice is no longer audible, but it’s clear he’s listening to what she has to say. You’re nearly overcome with guilt; you’ve done plenty of things wrong, but to eavesdrop on a private conversation? It might be your worst crime against Eddie yet.
Suddenly, he says, “It’s just been a lot.”
Something in his tone has changed. It’s gone soft, whispering from his lips in sudden muted blue. It’s a type of sadness you can’t quite place – it’s the kind of mourning you’d seen in his eyes in the photo.
Nancy must say something, because he hums in response. It’s obviously not good enough of an answer for Nancy over the phone, because her voice grows back to audible levels, less shrill, more stern.
Eddie answers with words this time. “I… I think I do.”
He thinks he does what?
“I do. I really fuckin’ do.”
He’s more sure in his answer the second time around to the unknown question. The guilt grows. Inflating, turbulating, ready to crack your ribs. The vines are no longer there to hold you together.
You’re put out of your misery when Eddie murmurs out a bye, Nance and you can hear his phone snap shut. If it were just a mere few hours ago, one hour ago, you would have made a comment about it - you would have joked again about what year it was, how maybe the two of you should get to sleep so first thing in the morning, you could drag him down to the Apple store to get a normal phone like the rest of you. But you’re not a time traveler, and Eddie is still an ocean away from you.
And you’re not a strong swimmer. The water’s were rocky, were vicious, and if you dared to try and backstroke to his side of the water, you’d surely drown. He had to come to you.
You’re praying he comes to you. Eyes tightly screwed shut, still resembling a ball on his old couch.
Please reach out for me, your mind screams, please wake me up. Please tell me to come back to bed with you. Please tell me we can forget all the words said in the kitchen. Please, please, please.
You don’t know where the pleading comes from. But whatever gods and goddesses may exist, whatever higher power in the Universe that would normally ignore you, hears out your silent pleas.
His hand is warm when he first grabs your shoulder.
It’s not rough, surprisingly gentle as fingertips press into your clothed skin and the first shake comes. It’s hardly enough to rouse a truly sleeping person. And Eddie realizes this as the second shake is a bit more firm, moving you a little more with a soft whisper of, “Hey, wake up.”
The command isn’t as harsh as you’re used to from him. It’s crushed velvet, smoothing over your skin like the blanket you’d previously pondered for, making the guilt begin to deflate. A slow release of air and the accompanying feelings of dishonesty and disloyalty leaves your chest weathered when his next whisper comes not only louder, but closer.
“C’mon, you’ve gotta get up,” he insists, but all you care about is his cologne. He never changed it from that first night. Always something warm, always something spiced. And you hate it, because it’s still the feeling of coming home from a long week, “You’re not sleeping on the couch. I’ll carry you if I have to.”
That makes your sleeping facade crack. Your lips betray you - one twitch, and Eddie knows you’re awake, pressing you to roll onto your back.
“I know you’re awake now. Let’s go,” you can hear the dimples in his tone. You can picture the lazy smile, the shining eyes. With your eyes closed, you can pretend you never had to meet mean Eddie. When you’re not looking at him, it’s almost as if the man you initially met still exists, to have and to hold, to make inside jokes with as you let the scenery around the two of you fade to black.
You crack your eyes back open to find him looking down at you just as you’d expected, but not nearly with as much mischief or mirth as you had craved.
The Eddie you first met is gone. He’s not coming back, and you can’t live with your eyes closed. Hell, maybe he had drowned in that ocean between you two as well.
Maybe if you took the leap, just attempted to take on the waves, you’d meet him somewhere at the bottom of it all.
“I thought you said you’d carry me?” you tease.
His hand. His hand is still on your shoulder, and his palm is still searing you. You couldn’t pull away from its burn if you tried.
“I’d carry you if I had to,” he corrects, “You’re awake, therefore, I don’t have to.”
“I don’t know. I think my legs may be broken.”
Eddie says your name firmly. It takes you off guard, momentarily distracts you from the way he squeezes your shoulder, “Let’s go before I change my mind and leave you out here.”
You decide against putting up any further fight. You’re just happy he’s talking to you again. How odd and peculiar that feeling is.
You rise from the couch and take him in. He’s no longer in his jeans, having traded out his earlier day clothes for something more comfortable. A pair of comfortable grey sweatpants, one or two sizes too big with the drawn string pulled to its limit and tied into a knot. He’s wearing a faded band shirt, loved in every way possible: it’s been cut along the bottom to shorten it in length, several holes torn along the torso and in the neck hole, the once black fabric now a stormy shade of grey far darker than the sweatpants. There’s a logo across the chest, peeling away at the edges.
“Deftones?” you ask, squinting to make out the words written amongst the logo, “What is that? A band?”
He chuckles, almost in disbelief, before he realizes you’re serious, “Wait, you’ve really never heard of them?”
You shake your head, “No, are they any good?”
You’re still making no move to stand, Eddie towering over you as you tilt back to meet his gaze. The disbelief is morphing, ever changing, pulling in and out of his features like the sea against sand. Like the waves of his self-imposed ocean that taunts you. You only dig your toes into the sand, you only stand at a far enough distance to not get your feet wet yet. You’re not ready to dive in. You’re not brave enough yet.
His chuckle this time isn’t in disbelief.
“Yeah, yeah. They’re great. I can show you them later, if you just come to bed.”
The game of teasing and begging is over, and you refuse to push your luck. He’s talking to you. Normally. You finally stand and shrug off that hand on your shoulder, finally trying to get your wits and not glance down at the waistband of his boxers.
“Okay, lead the way,” you gesture before spinning your upper body around with your feet planted in place, a soft crack coming from your back.
There’s no words exchanged in that brief walk to the bedroom; there’s nothing else to really say. The fight happened, Eddie locked you out, you’re both having to start from square one. The ocean still calls to you, and there’s nothing you can change about it.
His room is the same as it was hours ago, when you’d locked yourself into it. A little messy, a little boyish, but comforting all the same.
“A couple ground rules,” he finally breaks the silence. Oh, this oughta be good. “One, no more looking through my shit for…. Uh, magazines.”
“Trust me,” you hold up a hand in defeat, “Learned my lesson the first time. You can keep your gross Playboys.”
His brows wrinkle in minute irritation, “Gross? They’re not gro- You know what? Whatever. Yeah. Stay away from my gross playboys. Second rule, I have enough pillows we can make a… wall, I guess?”
You have to bite back your amusement, you have to remind yourself of the roar of an ocean. Maybe if you taste the salt on your lips again, you’ll remember that this is all temporary.
“Sounds good to me,” you agree.
“Obviously that means staying on your side of the bed. And it’s not a big bed, obviously, so-”
“What side of the bed do you prefer?”
“Excuse me?”
He’s dumbfounded despite the question not being a hard one. “The bed – which side do you prefer?”
“I, uh, I-” he brings a hand up to the back of his neck, a nervous habit as he rubs his curls that are matted at the nape, “The left, I guess? Or I mean, if we’re looking down at it, it’d be the right, but…” he waves his hand in the general direction of the side he’s referring to, the one closest to the wall, “You know.”
A nervous Eddie is a sight to behold. The fidgeting, the flush of his neck and cheeks, the stuttering sentences. He’s nervous about sharing a bed with you.
“Perfect,” you offer a smile, although you don’t think it does much for him considering he’s looking down at the ground in bashfulness, “I prefer the right side. I just refer to them by left or right when you’re laying down, by the way.”
You don’t have to add that tidbit – you don’t need to reassure him that your mind works in the same way as his in the slightest. But you do, and the red of his cheeks lightens.
“Cool,” he murmurs.
“Cool,” you echo.
The awkwardness can be afforded as the two of you straighten out the comforter, not needing to focus on shaking hands or fluttering chests as Eddie climbs in first and begins to rearrange his spare pillows as a barrier. His sweatpants slip down a bit lower as he does this, and you catch sight of the band of his boxers.
The band of his boxers pressing into the jut of his hips. The streak of alabaster, soft and unmarked unlike his arms, and the coarse patch of hair that interrupts the center of it all.
“Have you ever considered getting hip tattoos?” you blurt out, and immediately, you both freeze.
You really need to learn to think before you speak.
“Uh… what?” Eddie chuckles nervously, presenting an opportunity to redeem yourself.
He didn’t even have to catch you staring. You’d outed yourself.
And yet, you choose to double down, to take the embarrassment in stride as if it doesn’t phase you, “Hip tattoos. Have you ever thought about getting some? I think they’d be pretty sick.”
Your self-destruction pays off when Eddie smiles up genuinely at you. Sugar coated sweetness, a bit of authentic amusement.
“You’re right. They would be pretty sick.”
He should have mocked you for staring at his hips. He should have taken the opportunity to embarrass you and run, but the tides are shifting between you two, and you keep taking two steps closer to his ocean. The sand only grows colder and colder the closer you get to the edge, and it has your mind reaming with the possibility of what it would feel like to recklessly dive in.
“I’m sorry, I’m going to need you to say that again, this time into the microphone,” you make a fist, an invisible microphone in your grasp as you thrust it out towards Eddie.
He laughs. He laughs, and its reverb travels through the caverns of your chest. Suddenly, you’re sipping a watered down Amaretto Sour and his breath smells of Jack & Coke, and the lowlights of the room have become treacherous bar lighting as you lean into his shoulder, sitting side by side on bar stools.
The echoes still carry as he swats away your hand, eyes squinted with the mirth you’d be seeking out since he ‘woke’ you up, “Jesus Christ, you’re an idiot.”
“Yeah, a funny idiot.”
“Oh, now you’re just pushing it too far.”
“Too far? I don’t think I’ve gone far enough.”
Why don’t we ever hang out? Why don’t we ever banter like this when out with the others?
It’s so easy, easy to continue to giggle as you turn out the bedroom light before crawling into bed with him, feeling his warmth radiating even through the pillows between the two of you. Pillows, oceans – they all have started to feel the same.
Once the two of you have settled, you on your side and Eddie on his back, a nicer sort of silence blankets you. It’s almost as soft as his voice when he woke you, almost the same type of crushed velvet if you don’t reach out to it. But if you were to touch it, brush your fingertips over the material with intention and inhibition, you’d find the roughness. Roughness that mimics sand amongst an ocean’s waves, a roughness that says there’s more to be spoken about.
“The bed’s nicer than the couch,” you speak out loud rhetorically, not necessarily to him, but to the coarseness. To the sand and to the fake velvet, “More comfortable.”
“I know,” he answers to fill the space. I know, meaning he’s slept on his couch.
It makes sense. It’s his couch. But your mind runs rampant with the scenarios. Did he discover this through afternoon naps after hard shifts? Or maybe after one too many night outs that ended in collapsing face first into the cushions because he was too drunk to make it to his bedroom?
You jump when he sits up suddenly, “Fuck.”
“What’s your problem?” you twist from your position of your back facing him, squinting into the darkness.
“The photo.”
“What photo?”
“Photo evidence, you idiot! We have to send a photo to those fuckers.”
You had nearly forgotten that this is what this is; your friends and a bet are the pushing force behind this all. It’s not fate, it’s not the moon bringing two tides together. You didn’t happen upon his beach because you two decided to give this, whatever this was, a fighting chance.
You sit up next to him, crinkling your nose, “My phone’s in the living room, I think.”
“I can go get it.”
An offer of chivalry you didn’t even have to ask for.
Same as him sharing the bed. Same as him paying for your meal when you forget your wallet, or catching you when you trip up steps outside a bar. You really wish the list would stop growing.
He’s shuffling out of the bed, down the line of pillows and off the end of it, before you can even protest. You didn’t even tell him where the godforsaken phone might be besides that it’s in the living room. That doesn’t stop him.
It feels like an eternity, but is probably no more than a full minute, before he’s returning back to the room. He’s looking down at the phone, your screen lit up and basking his face in the only light in the room.
“What is it?” you can only assume the chat is messaging for a photo, by the scrunch of his brows and the small part of his lips.
“Nothing.”
That was the first thing that made your stomach drop.
The second comes when he returns to the bed, fighting his way up into his original position, handing the phone over to you as you glance at the notifications.
A notification from Steve. A private message, not sent in the groupchat.
STEVE-O: i’m sorry, i really don’t know what happened that night. the others won’t tell me either so they’re kind of useless. whatever it was, i don’t think it was you, though, honey.
Honey. Mother fucking Steve Harrington, and his need to use nicknames.
“All good?” Eddie asks, as if he didn’t just have access to this message, as if he doesn’t know what Steve’s said. You don’t know why the thought of Eddie seeing Steve’s careless nickname throws you over the edge. You just assume he’ll take it out of context, that he’ll spin it as a weapon against you.
“Fine,” you curtly reply, opening your phone and ignoring the message, going straight to the group chat and opening your camera. Your heart is still racing in terrible inconvenience as you glance over your shoulder at him, “How do we wanna take it this time?”
“I don’t know about you, but I personally just love to take it laying down-”
“Are you trying to make a sexual innuendo right now? Because if so, stop. It’s terrible.”
More giggles, more chuckles, more taunting waves of a daunting ocean that is scaring you less and less. Maybe the jump is worth it. Maybe the initial chill will break and show you warmth. Maybe it would never be cold to begin with.
At least he’s teasing you, which is a good sign. You lay down in the same position as earlier, this time Eddie propping himself up to peek over the wall of pillows so his face is in the picture.
It’s too dark to really see your faces very clearly. You can still make them out, to be fair, but it’s hard. You have to strain your eyes quite a bit to make out the mess of your hair and the indents of Eddie’s dimples.
Eddie’s dimples. His dimples. Oh God, he’s smiling.
“Turn on the flash,” he reaches over, invades your space with boy and spice and nostalgia to tap on the screen himself and do as he had just requested.
“What was the point of telling me to do it, if you were just going to do it yourself,” you grumble, trying to yank the phone out of his reach. He only leans further, pressing into the boundary of pillows, his collarbone knocking against the back of your shoulder.
Warmth. So, so much warmth. It occurs to you that it’s not just the smell of his cologne that feels like a long week’s homecoming; his touch and presence can manage to do the same, when he’s not being a pest of course.
“Shut up and take the photo,” he bickers before giving up and settling back into his pose. He even adds to it, throwing up a peace sign with the hand not holding him up.
You can’t help but tease him for it, mimicking the motion with your own hand and failing at holding back your tittering. When you tap the button to take the photo, the screen flashes white and you both immediately groan before rubbing your eyes.
“Fuck.”
“Wow, bright idea.”
“Was that a pun?” Eddie stops mid eye rub, side-eyeing you, “Fuck off. That was a terrible pun.”
“I never said my puns were good!” you try to defend yourself, blinking to bring relief to your scorned irises and focus on the photo of the two of you, “I said my jokes were good.”
“Puns are jokes.”
You completely ignore him, and instead sigh deeply when you see the photo, “We need to retake it. No flash, this time. They can adjust brightness on their own time.”
The photo is terrible, truly. The photo captures the moment somewhere between your enjoyment of copying Eddie and the pain the two of you had brought upon yourselves. Squinty eyes, coiled lips. Two peace signs of two drastically differently sized hands.
Don’t you dare, you scorn your mind at that trail of thought, don’t even start that comparison.
“Why?” Eddie protests, once again beginning to lean over and take a closer look at your phone, chest brushing your shoulder again, “Oh, c’mon, it’s fine – just send it so we can sleep before they bother us again.”
You just shake your head, already reopening the camera app and being sure to adjust the settings. No blinding this photo.
“Say cheese, pretty boy.”
It’s not until you’ve tapped to take the photo that you both realize what you’ve said.
Pretty boy.
Eddie is leaning in still, just as he is in the photo you’ve taken, and both of you look far too happy to be sharing a bed. The words – the nickname, the compliment – are still formed on your lips in it. If the flash was on again, you’d see the blush of his reaction.
Neither comment on it. You won’t lean into your embarrassment for a second time tonight, and Eddie isn’t in the business of teasing you cruelly anymore, it seems.
You can hear him swallow hard before he asks, “Is that one good?”
“Fine,” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Um, yeah, it’s good. I sent it.”
“Okay, good.”
“Good.”
The awkwardness is stifling. Heavy and drowning and goddamn stifling.
You toss your phone far too quickly onto his nightstand, wishing the bed would swallow you whole.
If you two were friends, it would have been mindless teasing. The same as when Steve calls you honey, or Robin rambles about how hot you look on a night out. But you two aren’t friends.
You two aren’t friends because of some mysterious change that occurred in Eddie while you went to the bathroom. You haven’t forgotten the burning question, and the longer you two lay there, the more you let it consume you rather than regret.
“Hey, Eddie? Can I ask you a question?”
He’s laying flat on his back as he answers you, hands nervously wringing on his stomach, “You just did, but sure.”
It should be a good thing. He’s still teasing you, it’s still a good thing. But all your questions die in your throat.
What happened when I went into the bathroom that first night?
Why did you turn so cold towards me?
Was it my fault?
Why aren’t we friends?
The last one doesn’t go down without a fight. It reverberates and battles you, it tries to pull you into the ocean head first.
Why aren’t we friends?
“Do you still drive a motorcycle?”
That sure was a funny way of asking what you needed to.
He’s quiet for a moment, clearly puzzled by your random question, but nevertheless he says, “Yeah. Why?”
“No reason.”
You’re picturing him stalking away from you again, without so much as a goodbye, straddling the bike and tucking his head away into the motorcycle. The last glimpse you’d ever had of everything he could have been to you. It’s enough to make your eyes water, your bones shake, your toes curl into coarse sand until they bleed.
The next time you hear his voice, he’s whispering your name. You don’t respond, and so he tries it again, saying it a bit louder this time.
“I know you’re not asleep. No one can fall asleep that quickly.”
“I can,” you snap, still choking on his waves and personal mourning, a yearning you need to find the grave of once more to bury – for good this time.
“Clearly, you can’t,” he shuffles, but you don’t check to see if he’s sitting up. (He’s not, he feels like his back is glued to the bed). His voice is back to crushed velvet and kindness, vulnerability and softness, a sort of home you can never return to, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
That piques your interest. You turn, laying on your back and looking at the same ceiling as him in that moment, “For what? Earlier in the kitchen? Or at the bar?” you feel his flinch, and are quick to add, “Because consider it water under the bridge, okay? You’re forgive-”
“I mean for everything. I’m sorry for… everything.”
Everything. Ten letters, four syllables. It means a whole lot more than it should be capable of.
“Everything?” your voice is hardly audible as you turn to look at him. He’s half hidden by the wall put between the two of you. But if you squint, if you adjusted the brightness, you wonder if you’d see his eyes shining with the same remorse yours burn with. You wonder if you’d see the dirt caked under his nails from also digging up graves he shouldn’t have tonight.
“Everything.”
Ten letters, four syllables, one leap of faith. The ocean isn’t as cold as you’d thought it would be.
—
BIRDIE is typing…
DINGUS: i swear to god rob. if you’re not about to tell me what the fuck i did that night, you better lock your phone and just go to bed.
BIRDIE stops typing.
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#twenty four hours#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#i gotta stop with the metaphors lol#i know it would notify them that robin stops typing but i think it'd be so funny to watch her lil bubble of dots disappear#robin was ready to scream about them sharing a bed
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“How is it that you’re so small, but still managed to take up all of the bed?”
Fictober Day ?+2✨
————
Tw: violence
presenting the tragic besties josh and tracy❣️
————
Tracy wakes up with a hand in her face.
It takes three seconds for her to recognise the hand as Josh’s. It take ten seconds for her to pry his other hand free of her hair. It takes five minutes for her to fully recall how they ended up like this.
In the twenty minutes it takes for her to spin free of the tangled sheets and make a cup of hot tea, Josh doesn’t rustle once.
From the kitchen she can hear him snoring. From the bathroom she peeks at his slumbering form. He’s still wearing the jeans he dragged on to go to Sinema the night before. He’s wearing one of her old oversized tshirts, his claw-shredded one on the floor atop the blanket she’d ripped. The one he wrapped all the broken glass in.
In the four minutes it takes for her to brush her teeth, Josh groans awake.
"What’s for breakfast?" He stretches obnoxiously across her bed. He kicks the sheets to the floor.
She peeks out at him with foam at the sides of her mouth. "Shouldn’t you be asking your mom that?"
She rinses and walks into the room with a towel swiping over her face.
"You’re a terrible host."
Tracy picks up the sheets and throws them over the edge of the bed. "Technically, I’d have had to have invited you in to be your host."
"Words, so early in the morning, make it stop." Then he makes a sour face and presses fingers into his neck, massaging lightly, "And how’s it that you’re so small, but still managed to take up all of the bed?"
She scoffs in lieu of dignifying his comment with a response, partly because she woke up at the edge of one side of the bed with Josh’s limbs all over her. But mostly because she doesn’t want to talk about it, him having to stay while she tried to sleep. Him having to stay while she… stayed asleep. She didn’t ask him to, but he’s insisted on crawling through her window since the first time he crashed in her room and saw what she did. He saw what she did and slept on the floor anyway. He saw what she did and stayed.
She rolls her eyes and starts picking up the pieces from the night before, all the glaring evidence of her episode.
Josh stretches again, noisily this time. "I could go for some hash browns, whadya think?"
"I already had tea."
"Tea isn’t breakfast, dude." He rolls to edge closer to her and swings his feet to the floor.
Her breath catches when she spots a shard of glass, from the broken mirror in her bathroom. It’s near her window, at least ten feet from where she thinks she remembers she’d grabbed one of the pieces and aimed it at Josh’s eye.
Her back is to him so she lets her hands shake while she steadies her breathing. Then she starts again, cleaning up like she always does.
When she’s done enough, bagged all the broken pieces she could find, and wiped the splatter of blood from the floor, Josh pins her with a look. It doesn’t belong on his face, in this room, in her house.
"How’d you sleep?"
Tracy stares as blankly as she can, careful to breathe evenly like she was taught; holds her heart hostage so it doesn’t skip; lets the lie fall from her lips easy, just like he would. "I don’t remember."
Josh keeps looking, but he doesn’t push. "Me neither." Then he chuckles, "I was high as fuck."
Josh doesn’t care enough to do any of what she did, doesn’t even try to look guilty when his heart skips. But she doesn’t push. She grabs her wallet and throws it to him.
"If you buy anything that’s not food with my card I’m going to rip your arms off."
"Jeesh, if you don’t trust me just say that…"
Tracy crosses her arms and cocks a hip. "I don’t trust you."
From the bed it takes him six seconds to slowly stalk to her. She steels her face in defiance. Josh lifts a hand and flicks her in the forehead. He rushes to the window and slides feet first onto the roof.
His laughter is raucous from the other side of her window. He waves obnoxiously and dodges with practised ease when she shoves a hand forward.
"Too slow," he mocks.
"You’re such a dick."
Josh steps backwards to the edge of the roof and winks before he steps off. Barefoot.
When he lands she hears him call from the yard, "Throw my shoes down, Trace!"
"Come get them yourself, Joshua!"
#asks#teen wolf#tracy stewart#josh diaz#the chimeras are my fave have i talked about that enough#chimera pack#ficx#idk i just think they’re besties but neither of them would ever admit it#this is connected to that ‘them being friends’ hc i rambled about under that one moodboard i made <3
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Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Five
Hi, guys! It’s so good to be back:)
Words: 2.3k
Warning(s): Language
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"...Viv, c'mon, you gotta help me with my bow tie!" Slash pleads, his fist knocking against the bathroom door as Steven holds handfuls of my hair whilst puke spews into the toilet.
"Give us a second there's been a complication!" Stevie shouts for me as I take in a deep breath, my throat burning, and the smell causes another bout of stomach-content to pour from me.
"It starts in, like, ten minutes, man!" Slash says from the other side.
"Give us a second!" Steven's dramatic, high pitched squeal echos as I flush the toilet, desperately in need of rinsing my mouth out.
He's already waiting with a damp washrag from the towel closet next to the counter, wiping the chunks of my breakfast from my lips.
"Stevie, I don't think I can do this." I mumble, give out from dry heaving.
"You got this, Viv." He assures me.
"I don't got this." I shake my head, tears in my eyes as my nausea continues as Slash knocks again.
"Slash, two seconds, dude!" He assures him.
"It's Izzy. Open the fuckin' door."
Stevie opens it, Izzy striding in, slamming and locking it behind him.
"Sorry, Viv, I'm stressed. I gotta do this," He pulls a joint from the inside of his jacket and lights it up, the smell making my stomach turn again. "The fuck's wrong with you?" He asks, furrowing his brows at my disarray.
"She's been haking her brains out for twenty minutes." Steven tells him.
"I can't do this." I shake my head.
"What?" Izzy asks, confused. "Do what?" He looks to Stevie as if to say, "what the hell she talking about?"
"Viv, I really need this tied! It's almost time to go!" Slash is back and Steven opens the door.
"Go get Tansy to tie it." I hear him tell Slash.
"We can't find Tansy." He sounds almost distressed by it.
"What?" The three of us state at the same time.
"Her and Axl are fuckin' M.I.A.." He explains.
"It starts in ten minutes what do you mean they're M.I.A?" I hoarse out.
"Nobody can find them, Duff's getting a little pissed about it, Mandy's ready to start and we don't have Axl. They're not even here."
Before I can stop it, I'm lurching forward, missing Izzy's shoes by an inch when I vomit onto the tiled floor.
"I can't do this." I repeat it as Izzy plucks the wet rag from Steven and wipes my mouth again before I go to the sink and cup water in my hands to rinse my mouth out.
He's keeping the blunt between his lips as he goes to Slash, tying the bow tie around his neck, taking a long drag before letting smoke push out of his mouth and nose.
"You two go talk to Duff, make sure he stays in a good mood. We'll figure out where Tansy and Axl are and it'll be fine." He states, raising his brows.
"Sir, yes, sir." Stevie gives a salute, throwing his arm around Slash's shoulders.
Izzy's pushing the door shut, turning to look at me where I'm sitting on the edge of the tub.
"I gotta go home, I can't do this." I take deep breaths.
"You're one of his best friends, what the fuck do you mean you can't do this?" He bluntly asks me.
"I can't do this." I say. "I don't even need to be here, Izzy, I'm the ex-girlfriend he got pregnant, like, two days before he got back with the girl he's marrying, now."
"You sound like one of those goddamn headlines they're printing left and right." He accuses me, leaning against the counter.
"Her family is here, there's a lot of people — I don't think I can do this."
"I thought you'd be over what people say about you by now." He blows more smoke.
"These people are going to potentially be around my kid someday, Izzy, I want them to like me." I explain.
"Who gives a shit, you've already got people that like you. I like you." He motions to himself. "So who the fuck else matters but us?"
"I don't think I can do this." I say for the umpteenth time.
"Hey," He steps to me in his rented tux and places his hands on my shoulders. "Duff's stressing out right now, Tansy and Axl are missing, and Nikki's probably gonna think you snuck out the window and ran far, far, away from here, alright? I get that there's a lot happening in the press, I get that you and Mandy are still butting heads over the argument you got into weeks ago, but you've had your time to wallow over it, and now it's time to dry it up and show up for Duff." He asks me and I look at him for a couple seconds. "You're a Sixx. You guys don't pussy-out and hide from your problems, so why're you doing it, now?"
"Because I'm a Sixx and that's what we do." My voice shakes, thick with tears.
He stares at me for a moment before exasperatingly letting out a breath.
"Oh, geez, Vivian." He's rubbing his forehead, realizing a pep talk might not work right now, before he gets eye level with me, crouching down. "Do you love him?" He asks me, next, and I wipe the back of my hand under my chin, catching tears.
"Yeah." I nod, sniffling.
"You're not here for anyone else but him. To be happy with him, and have a good time because he's getting married, and you're about to let a bunch of randoms piss on the parade." He keeps on. "You love Duff, so what does it matter if you're carrying his fucking kid or not? Why the hell should you feel embarrassed about that, or give a damn what someone who doesn't even know you says about it?"
He makes a very good point.
"...You're doing this for Duff." It's repeated like it's an affirmation. "And Vivian Sixx doesn't pussy-out." He adds sternly.
This is what it takes to get me to quickly wipe tear stains from my face with the back of my hand and take a final deep breath, coughing on the smoke that's fogged up the room.
"You ready?" He asks me when I stand up, his hand patting at my back to try to clear up my cough.
"Yeah." I wheeze out as he snatches the door open, white swirls dispersing into the hallway of Duff's mother's home.
"It's go time, boys!" Izzy shouts as I head toward the stairs.
Their families are gathering in the back yard where the ceremony is supposed to take place.
Mandy's keeping to the guest room upstairs with her friends while Duff is downstairs in the other bathroom, and just as I’m heading down the stairs, the front door is bursting open to reveal Tansy in a bright pink sequin dress, hand in hand with Axl.
“Sorry, we’re late!” She says, her blonde hair curled, falling down her back.
Long gone is the skeleton-like figure she once carried in a pale stumble with a dopey smile on her face.
She’s gained weight, a healthy amount, once again taking on the form of the girl I once knew in high school.
Rehab, a healthy relationship, and love for herself has done wonders on her.
“Finally!” Stevie pipes from the living room.
“Where’s he at?” Axl asks, taking his jacket off, referring to Duff.
“He wanted me to give him a second. I think he’s shaking out last minute jitters.” Steven informs him.
Looking at the clock in the kitchen, seeing it’s 3:55.
“…I’m gonna go talk to him.” I slip past them, glancing at Nikki where he’s sitting on the couch next to Slash.
He looks at me, and I don’t say a word to him as I continue down the other hallway to Duff.
My shaking hand knocks at it, and I hear him take a couple steps to the door.
We haven’t spoken in weeks.
My breath stops upon seeing him when the door opens, and he looks down at me for about two seconds before he forces himself to look away.
“Hey, Viv.” He says it nervously, and I can smell the perfume of vodka on his breath.
“Hey, Duff.” I reply, feeling a lump in my throat. “I was gonna come check and make sure you were ready on time.” I lie.
“Yeah…” He says, looking down at himself in the tux. “I’m ready.”
I can’t help the, “are you?”, that leaves my lips before I can stop it and he takes in a deep breath.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asks me, furrowing his brows, and I don’t respond.
He takes a step back so I can come in, and I shut the door behind me, leaning against it as he puts his flask aside.
“You’re drinking?”
“Just a little. For my nerves.” He states as lightly as he can, trying to keep me from worrying, his eyes looking at the dark green dress I’m wearing that stops at my knees and hugs at my little baby bump. “You look cute.” He adds it honestly, smiling at me.
“You do, too.” I say back in the same tone.
I remember how short we are on time before I try to cut to the chase.
Apparently he’s on the same page as me because he says, “Why’re you here, Viv?” as I say, “Things can’t change.”
“What?” He furrows his brows.
“I’m happy for you, and I’m happy you’ve met the person you want to be with forever…but things can’t change, Duff. Not with us. Not like they have in the past weeks.”
His face falls, a look of guilt in his eyes.
“And I’m scared that things are gonna change, and we won’t be the way we were before.” It keeps coming from me like vomit, tears soon joining in. “You’re my best friend. Before you were someone I was in love with, and before I was pregnant…you were my best friend, first. And we never fought, we never went without speaking…and this is the first time either of us has said more than a few words to the other in over a month.” I point out, my throat aching as tears dot at my lashes.
“Vivian,” He says lowly.
“And it’s your wedding day and I’m not trying to piss on your parade, but I can’t be happy if you’re still upset with me.” I confess, shakily. “And the fact you’re even not speaking to me unless I lock you in a bathroom and make you is a sign that things are already changing.”
“I haven’t been speaking much because between putting the wedding together and working out a deal for Guns, I haven’t known what the hell to say to you.” He tells me. “We don’t really fight so I didn’t know how to patch things back up.” It’s added before he takes a last swig of his drink and puts the flask back on the counter, stepping to me.
“I’m not just the one you knocked up.” I state. “You loved me at one point.”
“That was an asshole thing to say.” He admits, breathing out. “But Mandy’s not any less than you just because…” He trails off, but I understand what he’s going to say.
“The entirety of what I said to Mandy was an asshole thing to say, too.” I say back. “I just don’t want things to change.”
It’s quiet for a moment, before he’s reaching for my hand, grasping at it.
“You’re not getting kicked to the curb. You’re still my best friend. Nothing’s changing, Viv. I still have all those dreams for what I want, you’re still a part of them.”
It had hit a soft spot in me, the dreams he’d discussed with me when we were dating…about us staying together, getting married, and eventually moving back to Seattle once he and Guns got where they wanted to be in their career.
It was that moment I was put at ease to an extent.
I was no longer one of the pinnacles of all he could dream, but I was there, in some capacity. And that was all I had wanted.
Hearing this brings a tear down my cheek, and he’s wiping it with his thumb, holding my hand to his lips for a moment.
We just stand there with one another for a moment longer before there’s a soft knock at the door.
“Duff, c’mon, it’s time to get hitched.” Matt’s voice comes through behind me, and we look at one another a last time before I’m reaching behind me with my free hand, opening the door and pulling my hand from his grasp.
He holds onto it for a split second longer before letting go, and I step out before he does.
I’m face to face with his older brother while I pass by him, the expression on his face shifting a little at the sight of me, his eyes darting to Duff behind me, and I’m turning the corner of the hall, seeing Nikki before me, waiting at the end of the hall, his brows furrowing at my teary eyes.
The moment is stolen away with the hooping and hollering of Stevie excitedly attacking Duff as the groom steps toward the door, waiting for Tansy, Nikki and I to get outside and grab a seat to witness him marry the one he’s going to live out his dreams with.
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pretty girl | rc
| pairing: (non canon) rafe cameron x female reader
| genre: fluff, college rafe
| content warnings: swearing
| précis: rafe gets distracted when you’re around.
| word count: 698
When Rafe gets home, you’re deep in schoolwork, so much so, that you don’t even realize he had come in. You’re poring over an open textbook, pencil gripped in one hand, scribblings notes onto a sheet of lined paper.
He quietly sets his own backpack down, pulling out his laptop and setting it on the kitchen table. It was an unspoken deal you and he had. You get the island for homework and he gets the kitchen table. He pours himself a glass of water before checking your bottle to make sure you have enough water.
Rafe smiles to himself when you still don’t notice him. He finds it endearing how caught up in your tasks, finds your focus admirable.
You had already changed when you arrived home a couple hours before he did, now clad in sweatpants and one of your boyfriend’s t-shirts. Your hair was loosely flung over your shoulders, glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. Rafe loves when you trade your contacts for glasses, happy that you feel comfortable enough to do so. He goes into the bathroom to take his own contacts out, grabbing his glasses from his drawer under the sink, before coming back out to the kitchen.
Rafe pulls open his laptop, sitting on a different side of the table than he usually does, just so that he can face you. More often than not, he finds himself staring at you, not being able to pull his gaze away.
In the hour that he sits there, he gets about five minutes’ worth of work done.
“You know it’s rude to stare?” You quip, suddenly lifting your head up from your work.
Rafe blinks, shaking his head, as if to shake the spot his eyes are stuck on-- from his mind.
“You little shit,” He teases. “I thought you didn’t notice me?”
“I didn’t.” You shoot him a cocky smirk. “Not until twenty minutes ago when I realized you were staring at me.”
Rafe rolls his eyes playfully. “Are you gonna come over and say hi then?”
You scoff, getting up from your chair and making your way over to Rafe’s. He shifts in his chair, arms out. You stand in between his legs, arms on his shoulders as you lean down to kiss him.
“Hi sweetheart.” He murmurs against your lips. “I missed you today.”
“Missed you too.” You breathe, pulling away to beam at him. “You usually sit on the other side of the table?” You observe, wondering.
“I know. But you looked so cute that I decided to sit over here.”
You roll your eyes. “Dumbass. Did you even get anything done?”
He leans up to peck your lips again before answering. “I did a problem.”
“A? As in singular?” You grin, looking down at his worksheet. “Dude, get this done so we can hang out.”
“Not everyone is little miss studious.” He teases, gently pushing your glasses higher up on your nose.
“Right. Because some of us have to procrastinate until the last possible second.” You smile, bending to kiss his forehead. “Ugh. You’re so fucking cute it’s annoying.”
“What did you say?” He quips, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a grin. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”
“I said you’re annoying.” You deadpan.
“If I’m so annoying then why do you always want to spend time with me?” He wonders, a cocky smirk on his lips. “Get this done so we can hang out.” He whines in a high-pitched imitation of your voice.
You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms across your chest. “It’s just because I feel bad for you. If I didn’t hang out with you, no one would.”
He laughs hard, tossing his head back before pulling you back in for a hug.
“Yeah right baby. You can’t get enough of me.”
“You were the one who wouldn’t let me get up to pee this morning.” You shoot back, a tiny smile on your lips.
“Okay so maybe we both have a little thing for each other.” He teases, cheeks flushing pink.
“Yeah, no shit.” You giggle, pressing your lips to his again. “Love you, handsome.”
“Love you more, pretty girl.”
© witchwyfe 2021. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.
#mine#my work#my writing#witchwyfe#witchwyfe writing#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron oneshot#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x reader#obx rafe x reader#outer banks fanfiction#obx imagine#outer banks imagine#outer banks rafe x reader#rafe cameron fluff#fic: pretty girl
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is it alright if you can make a male reader version of the high!rinne amagi x reader fic? only when you’re ready to write the full thing, of course :]
Note: This pretty much the same as the Rinne/Reader fic posted a while ago, just now with male pronouns, and male uh, parts. A lot of stuff has been reworded, but I hope it does the trick! Thanks for reading!
Rinne Amagi x Male Reader
Summary: You mostly just expected to pick your friend up from a club, the last thing you thought was to get hit on by some wasted guy. Although, he certainly looked familiar…
Word Count: 2k
Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24045316/chapters/59423728
Warnings are under the cut for containing nsfw/18+ content
Warnings: nsfw/smut (18+), sex under the influence of drugs, bisexual Rinne, sub!Rinne, slut!Rinne, male!reader, fellatio, choking, anal fingering, non-sexual pissing, excessive amounts of cursing
The first thing that hit you when you entered the club was how dark it was. How through all the flashing lights, you couldn’t see a thing. How the wall of heavy bass rang noiselessly back and forth into your head, bouncing to the beat of its own drum. The shaking of the wall of people undulating like a wave, bouncing endlessly like the ocean.
It was 11:30 p.m. already and your friend called you, waking you up, to drive her home. At least it wasn’t 3:00 a.m. like last time. This is why you told her to stop going to raves all the time. It was rotting her brain.
You had waited outside for twenty minutes already, but a part of you felt overwhelmed by everything in front of you. How everything was so dark until the lights flashed, how everything was so quiet because you couldn’t hear anything but bass, drums, and bass. There was an electrifying energy to it all and you felt it sap away at you like a leech.
Sticking your hands out to feel around you, you noticed that there were clear paths around the main crowd. Maybe if you could go around you might have a chance at finding her. You hoped she wasn’t off puking in a bathroom stall. Well, it might not be so bad, at least that way it wouldn’t be in your car.
There was a gray-haired boy shouting on stage. He had a very long tongue. He looked a lot like the dude from that idol group, Crazy B. You wondered if people like that really went to clubs like this. You wondered if a part of it was outing all the stress they went through, how difficult it would be to explain where they went, explain where the pictures came from. Although, you supposed, people like that might just not care.
You felt a hand against your shoulder and you turned around.
A six-foot-tall black shadow loomed over you.
“God, your skin is so soft,” you heard him saying.
Was he talking to you? It looked like he was shouting, but you couldn’t really tell. You couldn’t really hear anything, it was so impersonal.
The man started to attach his body to you, getting very close into your personal space. A part of you was worried that he was going to grind against you, although there was a lot worse and he didn’t seem to be particularly harmful, if not a little touchy. His skin was absolutely burning, frying as it touched your skin. Did he have a fever?
You pulled away, worried that there was something wrong with him, but he just got closer again.
The lights flashed on him.
Redhead, huh.
“Look, buddy, I got to find my friend, could you get off me,” you shouted, worried that trying to talk to him would make your throat scratchy.
The bass dropped and he leaned down in, to get close to you.
“I think I’m in love,” he said, screaming into the void. “You know I’m usually not into butch girls, you got such a nasty expression. I’d tap that.”
What the fuck was he going on about? Was he shitfaced? He didn’t smell like alcohol. Normally your instincts would have you get the fuck away from someone like this, but he seemed cute and you were a little bit pent up. Anyways, with him all trashed like that, it would be difficult for him to fight back. Sighing, realizing that this was now your problem, you dragged him into the room closest to your right.
Turns out it was the bathroom.
A sense of relief hit you as soon as you realized how much better it felt to be under constant light and less noise. The music was still pumping blood into your head, you smashed him into the wall, pinning him down.
You finally got a good chance to look at his face. There were beads of sweat pouring down his headband.
This was Rinne Amagi, there was no doubt about it. Clinging to you. High off his ass.
It was a little difficult to not want to take advantage of this situation.
“What the fuck are you on?” you asked, dryly.
“Mo~lly~” he said, singing out each syllable, completely ignoring the music blasting in the distance.
Ah, well that explained it. You hoped your friend chose a clean strain this time.
You grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into one of the stalls, chucking him onto the ground, just short of the toilet seat. You wondered how gross that ground was, you wondered how many people had vomited on it, how many people shot up in here. You hated it here, your friend would have to hire a ride next time.
Rinne leaned forward, grabbing awkwardly at your chest, like he was trying to grope you. Your chest wasn’t particularly sensitive. It’s not like you had tits or anything. You’d never had another guy do that to you.
“Huh?” Rinne asked, furrowing his brow. “Your tits are kinda flat, Jesus christ.”
You frowned at him.
“You know I’m a dude, right?” you asked, somewhat deadpanned.
Rinne blinked incredibly slowly, letting all the blood rush back into his head. Frustrated and high on energy, his hand shot up and ruffled through his hair, scratching at his scalp. He took a deep breath.
“I kinda thought you were masc for a girl. Fuck, guess I’m gay now,” he said, ending with a sigh. “Wouldn’t be the first time, actually.”
Smirking, Rinne sank to the floor, mouthing at the front of your jeans, playing with the zipper.
“So, uh,” he said, his eyes lolling forward. “You wanna get sucked, sir?”
Sighing, you pulled down your pants and underwear, grabbed his head, and stuck your dick, still somewhat flaccid, into his mouth.
As Rinne was too surprised to respond, you decided to push into his lips. At least the warmth felt good around your shaft. He was supporting your body weight, at least. He wasn’t pushing you off.
“Come on asshole, didn’t you say you wanted to suck me off?” you asked, your tone harsh, your length beginning to harden in his lips.
That’s when you felt the tongue and everything started feeling better. He started by sucking his cheeks inwards, creating a nice seal around your dick. Sloppy and wet, Rinne began to move. Putting one shoe against the toilet rim, you straddled his face, adjusting so that you could shove your dick further down his throat. You heard slight choking sounds, the man clearly not used to this.
Not getting enough friction, you grabbed the back of his head and pushed it against you, his whole face smothered by your crotch, his nose resting pleasantly in your pubes. You felt his breath heave, struggling for air. You slammed your hips into his mouth, cutting off any circulation, cutting off any hope of him being able to breathe.
It felt so good to have him choke against you. That look in his eyes. Piercing blue, piercing through you as he was deep-throating you, struggling, in pain. It felt like minutes that you had him there, sucking against you endlessly, gagging, choking.
You felt it all rise at once and you came down his throat. You grabbed his hair and pulled him off of you, his face smeared with thick fluid and a wide grin, cum seeping from his lips.
“Damn! That wasn’t so bad!” Rinne shouted, laughing, slapping his leg. “Where else do I find men like you?”
He was still kneeling on the ground. He was really hard. A part of you wondered if it was a blow-and-go sort of deal or if Rinne expected more. Well, it wouldn’t be too difficult to take care of him when he was like this.
“Up your ass,” you said, answering his question sarcastically. “Now get on the seat and turn around.”
He grabbed your hand, his own still burning, blistering with heat. He licked it, your jizz still smeared across his face.
“How is your skin so tingly? It’s so cold, like an ice-cube. I want to keep touching you…”
You grabbed his shoulders and twisted him around, having him lean over the metal flusher. It wasn’t your first time by any means, but it was certainly your first with someone this trashed. You wondered if he’d even be able to keep his dick up or if the drugs even affected that. You fumbled with the jacket around his waist, his belt, and his zipper before finally pulling his pants down. You figured that you weren’t the first person to be frustrated at how much shit he had on.
It was quite the sight when you got a good look at his ass. It was definitely as toned as you had expected, but a little fattier than it looked on the outside. You put your hand around it and gave it a squeeze, not having much give. He had a nice ass. It made sense why it was so easy for him to slut around like this.
“You got lube?” you asked. “I’m gonna finger you, okay?”
“Jacket pocket,” he responded, barely hesitating.
Of course he had lube in his jacket pocket. You fished it out, avoiding the bags of pills. The bottle was almost empty, too. Lube crusted onto the side, it looked like he never bothered to even close the lid. Squeezing hard, some spat out onto your hand.
He seemed relaxed enough, so you started with one finger. You weren’t sure how often he had taken it up the ass.
“Haaanghn~”
The sound he made was rather lovely. Well, at least it seemed like he liked it.
“God, your dick feels so good~” he moaned into the room.
It was a single finger. You just came. What human would be able to get it up again that quickly?
Sighing, you inserted another finger. His insides were so loose. Clearly, he was comfortable enough to do something like this, clearly, he could have taken more if you were more prepared. He squeezed around you, as if he was caressing a dick, making sure that you felt good, making sure that his ass got as much friction as he possibly could around you. Everything felt like it was on fire, burning, melting, scorched around your fingers, overheating, overwhelmed by warm emotions.
When you pulled your fingers out a bit, you could hear him whine.
You slapped his ass, hard, and he half about choked up a lung. It was a good sound. He was making a lot of good sounds. A lot better than the washed away, thumping bass in the distance. It almost didn’t bother you anymore. If anything, it was a good beat to move your fingers in and out at.
You reached around to grab his dick, burning just like how the rest of his body was. How out of it was. How distracted he was getting. He was starting to bang his head to the music. You were worried he was going to smash it against the metal flushing valve.
Like a noodle in boiling water, you felt him start to go limp in your hand. Rinne still moaned, his ass still clenching around you. He groaned and warm liquid traced down your hand. You didn’t even wait till the smell hit you to shove him off.
His whole body slumped over the toilet, his hips pointed straight down at dinghy tap water. You could hear the stream of liquid pour out as he pissed himself.
You pinched your nose so you didn’t have to smell it.
“Yeah, that’s it, I think you’re done for tonight,” you said, wiping your hand on your pants.
“Aw, fuck,” he groaned out, his voice as sloppy as his body.
Reaching into your pocket, you took out an old receipt and wrote your number on it, letting it float down and land peacefully on his back. Sighing, you slammed the stall door behind you, groaning about the fact that you still had to find your friend.
#ensemble stars#enstars x reader#enstars#rinne amagi#rinne amagi x reader#male reader#dom!reader#w2tmfics
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Hiii bestie!!! Could you write about y/n being in danger and gang Harry gets all worried and scared (of course) and saves her. (I love your stories so much)
warning: violence, blood, guns
Harry was waiting for YN at home after she was going to the store to buy tampons (he offered to go but he normally bought the wrong kind).
He’s watching a game of football as he also continuously glances at the clock - keeping time of how long she’s been gone.
After twenty-five minutes, he gets a bit impatient, he wanted to start their movie night (sue him sometimes he liked cute romantic shit).
When he rings her mobile, it picks up after the first ring, and what he hears next sends a straight chill down his spine.
“We were waiting for you to call, Diablo,” A gruff, smokey voice rasps through the speaker of his wife’s phone.
His heart fucking drops but anger takes over in mere seconds as he’s off the couch and storming to their secret weapons room through a hidden passageway.
“What the fuck do y’cunts want?” Harry hisses furiously, unsure of who exactly this voice belongs to on the other end.
He hears a whimper in the background. He’d know that sound anywhere - usually he heard it when she was underneath him but right now it sounded pained and scared.
“If you fuckin’ hurt - I guarantee you that your whole family will be dead by tomorrow,” Harry promises, pushing down the panic as he grabs a duffel to begin shoving a shotgun and assault rifle in.
His desert eagle was tucked in his waistband already - were it always sat.
On his burner phone, he manages to text and send out the GPS location of where his wife is at - idiots most likely don’t know that he has a tracker on her phone.
There was also a GPS tracker embedded in the ‘H’ necklace she always wore right behind the three small diamonds so no one would ever be able to spot it.
“Business. We know you have a shipment going into the South Bay at midnight. Rumor has it you have 6 million pounds of coke on their,” The man replies.
Bingo.
Harry automatically realizes that this dude is a fucking idiot and fell for a diversion tactic - that shipment was being delivered on the other side of the city at three in the morning.
He didn’t get to be the most dangerous, successful gang leader without his own skills and manipulation of his own.
Harry always had to try to pick off the rats and snitches in his gang because people like to squeal for money and drugs.
Every opportunity he got, he told a couple of his rookie members fake information to see if they’d betray him.
It looks like someone was given fake information that Harry had fed two newer members earlier in the week.
“Why the fuck would y’idiots just sneak attack? Why the fuck d’you have my wife?” Harry snarls, getting a influx of text from his associates stating they’re on their way.
“We were actually going to be nice, just hold her until you agree - not hurt her, you know? But your little bitch managed to kill two of my men before we could wrangle her.”
Thatta girl.
God, he really fucking loved his wife and had no fear of putting his on life on the line to protect her - would take a bullet for her any day.
“I can’t wait t’find you and torture you until you’re begging for me to just put you out of your misery,” Harry promises, his heart pounding, vein protruding from his forehead.
“You really shouldn’t threaten me when I have this pretty little number of yours tied up to a chair with a gun to her head,” The man laughs with amusement, “I’ll have you talk to her now.”
Harry hears the man bark at YN, “Speak bitch!”
“He-hello?” YN whimpers pathetically, “Baby, I need help.”
And it sounds wrong - but relief flushes through him at the sound of her pleas. It was completely an act because it’s not truly how she sounds when she’s scared.
“Brat, y’faking it right now right?” Harry makes sure, getting onto the interstate - uncaring of stop signs and red lights.
“Yes. Yes, come get me. Yes, baby,” YN continues and god, she could win an Oscar for her performance and it really shouldn’t get him hard right now.
-
When he pulls up to a brick building that looks abandoned, his men are already shooting with visible bodies collapsed on the floor.
Harry yanks his favorite assault rifle out of his trunk, tugging the strap over his head, and positioning it as he strides forward.
“Boss, we haven’t cleared it completely. You can’t go in yet,” Niall informs him as he reload quickly, breathing heavy.
“I don’t fuckin’ care. My wife’s in there,” Harry snaps, quickly taking out the last two visible men before he is able to step through the door.
He is about to turn a corner and a man steps out from behind it - Harry doesn’t hesitate to lay his heavily-clad ringed knuckles straight into his face knocking him down before landing one fatal shot.
When he steps into a bare, musky old basement - his beautiful wife is tied to a chair, ropes keeping her arms tied behind her, and a cloth in her mouth.
“‘Bout time you showed up,” The rival states, standing behind his wife with a gun running along her skin.
She’s still in her holey tee shirt and biker shorts with white sneakers that were blood sodden like her clothing.
Harry illuminates pure fury when his gaze meets her - but her eyes are twinkling like she knows something he doesn’t.
He noticed that there was a high concentration of blood near her left side and that the fabric was torn - he had cut her and she was bleeding.
But she spits out the rag, rasping out to her husband in a teasing tone, “Took you long enough, dickhead,” before she’s slipping her hands from the restraints that she had gotten out of in mere minutes.
Her hand goes right for the man’s crotch - taking him by complete surprise, he hunches over and YN is able to get off the chair and knee him straight in the nose.
“S’your turn now,” YN replies, “I need to bandage this to stop the bleeding - it’s just superficial.”
Harry doesn’t remember much from that point on beside the fact that he pulled that man’s teeth out one by one and just as he had told him - by the time Harry was done with him he’d being begging for death.
And boy did he beg for Harry to just end it because Harry’s torture methods was worse than being dead to the world.
After he’s done, he nods at his men to clean up the mess, and finds his wife instantly, intertwining their hands and assuring her, “I’ll stick y’up when we get home.”
-
YN’s sat on their bathroom countertop in nothing but a clean pair of underwear after Harry had gently bathed her dirt and blood away.
She had quieted, the confidence and adrenaline having faded off, and she lets out a loud whimper when he begins to thread the needle through her tender, swollen skin.
“M’sorry, my queen,” Harry apologizes sympathetically as he threads through to close up the wound.
“Hurts,” His wife hisses with a crack in her voice, hands resting on his bare shoulders as he concentrates on her side.
“It’s done, did s’good baby,” He murmurs encouragingly, disposing of the items before cupping her jaw, “How are y’feelin’?”
“I’m fine,” She replies instantly, swallowing and avoiding his gaze.
“You’re not okay and that’s okay,” Harry reminds her, chest hurting when tears start to dribble down her cheeks.
“I was scared,” She whispers, “And all I wanted was you.”
“Baby, baby fuckin’ look at me,” Harry urges, tilting her chin up and hands coming to massage at her thighs, “M’sorry I wasn’t there right away, I fucking would die for you.”
It was amazing how much YN changed Harry.
-
Jaymee was a really sweet girl, bright puppy dog eyes and a wide smile with cherub cheeks, “That was amazing,” she had giggles after Harry rolls off of her.
“Get the fuck out now,” He dismisses, swinging his legs off the bed and pulling on his briefs.
Her face drops, “But…we just? I thought tha-“
Harry cuts her off there, crushing the cute girl’s dreams when he scoffs, “Y’thought what? I didn’t want anything from you but your cunt. I don’t cuddle or give a single fuck - so get the fuck out.”
-
“You’re my soulmate, fuckin’ crazy with how gone I am for you,” Harry follows the sentence but a line of kisses across her breasts and collarbones.
“Please, need it,” YN requests lowly, hand coming to tangle into his curls and lead him to her breast to suck at her hard nipple.
“Y’side, brat,” Harry reminds her, “Let just lay y’out, make y’come, and then we can cuddle, okay?”
And he does, spread her out on their bed, licks deep into her until she’s quivering with pleasure, and then tucks her right into his chest and he soothes her to sleep.
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ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ
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ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.
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You knew this was a horrible idea.
It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job.
Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside.
You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in.
So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless.
“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.
“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.
“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief.
“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself.
“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically.
You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-
“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit.
His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was.
“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot.
“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening.
“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.
“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred.
“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.
“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit.
“I can’t believe you,” you said.
“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought.
“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it.
Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum.
“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.
“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?”
“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms.
“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”
“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.
“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked.
“What?”
“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.
“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone.
“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”
“Are you sure, Buck?”
“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you.
“Hey, Nat!”
“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.
“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled.
“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?”
“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment.
“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment.
It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room.
“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.
“Sorry,” he chuckled.
“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced.
“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly.
You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?
"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.
"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out.
Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.
"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit."
"James," you whispered.
His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.
You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had.
“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.
Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt.
Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.
“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front.
He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you.
Bucky fell in love.
“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.
His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material.
You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him.
“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly.
“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered.
“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly.
He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly.
Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right.
He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon.
Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening.
“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”
“Fuck!”
“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.
His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.
“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal.
“Did I do that?” your voice trembled.
“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.
“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.
Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times.
You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.
“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled.
“Bucky,” you whined.
You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky.
“I got you, darling. I got you.”
Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours.
“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.
“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.
Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew.
Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy.
“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted.
“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned.
“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled.
He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly.
You like being choked by Bucky.
“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips.
“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again.
“Such a fucking beauty you are.”
Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.
“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled.
His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.
Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum.
He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet.
“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body.
“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”
“You’re not.”
Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room.
After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away.
He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast.
He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him.
Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever.
Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms.
“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled.
“I love you, too, darling.”
And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him.
=======================
ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)
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Bucky Barnes Taglist:
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#marvel smut#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#james buchanan barnes#bucky x reader#james buchanan barnes smut#marvel fics#bucky x y/n
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instead of you [part eighteen]
pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.
warnings: swearing, mentions of +sex
word count: 2k
series masterlist
“Sam and I will take the bunk beds.”
The room was a decent size. It was definitely bigger than Sam’s dad had made it sound. A large window on the back wall flooded the space with natural light and offered a view of the city below. By the door was a small fridge and a countertop with a sink and a couple of burners built in so that guests could cook their own meals. There was a queen sized bed jutting out from the western-facing wall and built into the adjacent wall were two twin-sized bunks, one on top of the other, making the room feel... cozy.
Harry and Tom traded looks with each other.
“Kidding.”
The boys visibly relaxed and chuckled awkwardly.
“If I ever have to share a bed with Tom again it’ll be too soon,” Harry sighed.
“Is that any way to treat your big brother?” Tom scoffed.
“I’m taller than you.”
“For now.”
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean? You’re twenty-five, you’re done growing.”
Tom shrugged. “Yeah, but I could always make you shorter.”
“Oh, what are you going to do, cut my legs off?” Harry challenged.
“I never said that.”
“Jesus Christ guys,” Sam said, finally cutting in. “Can we not threaten each other until we’ve had at least a few hours of sleep?”
“Whatever,” his twin grumbled, kicking off his shoes by the door.
Tom slung his backpack onto the top bunk and pulled his sweatshirt off over his head, exposing a strip of his stomach in the process. You looked away instinctively, hoping that you hadn’t drawn any attention to yourself while doing so.
“You always get the top bunk,” Harry whined.
“Yeah, because I’m older.”
“That’s not fair!”
“My brothers are actually ten years old,” Sam explained to you, raising his voice so that you could hear him over the bickering.
“No, I think ten-year-olds know how to take turns,” you said dismissively, not missing the glares from the other two Hollands.
“You’re right,” Sam agreed. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and sighed. “Reminds me of the family vacations we used to take. The six of us used to share one hotel room when we traveled.”
“Four boys... I don’t know how your mom did it.”
“None of us do.”
“I thought we were going to sleep,” Harry muttered from where he was already laying down on the bottom bunk, clearly irritated.
“Give us a minute to settle in, dude,” Sam shot back before dropping into a whisper. “It’s going to be a long week.”
You shook your head, putting your hands on his shoulders. “Everyone’s just cranky because they’re tired,” you reasoned. “We’ll get some sleep and then grab some food and then maybe they’ll be in a better mood.”
“You don’t know them like I do,” Sam warned.
“That’s true, but won’t they tone it down since I’m here?”
Sam snorted. “Wishful thinking.”
You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, I’m going to hop in the shower. I feel gross after being on a plane for so long.”
“I’ll go after you,” Sam replied with a nod. “Let me know if you need anything.”
You thanked him with a kiss under the watchful eyes of his brothers who both groaned in protest.
“Oh, fuck off,” Sam growled against your lips.
“By the way, sharing a bed doesn’t mean you get to mess around because I don’t want to hear that shit.”
“Harry!” Sam and Tom shouted, Tom going as far as throwing a pillow at his younger brother from the top bunk.
“Just being honest! We heard you going at it like rabbits when you had your own room, and I didn’t say anything about it then-”
“Harry.” To your surprise, it was Tom who cut him off, raising another pillow in warning. Thankfully, Harry took the hint that time and shut up, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance.
You smiled to yourself with the knowledge that your little Easy A stunt had worked, and looked over to see that Sam was wearing a matching smirk. He winked at you before turning to glare at his brothers.
“On that note, I’m going to shower,” you said, mostly to Sam, and made your way over to where you had dropped your suitcase by the door.
You gathered a set of pajamas to change into and then wandered into the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind you. It was one of those rolling doors so you had to be extra careful not to knock it off its hinges or the track and cause even more noise than necessary. You set your change of clothes on the counter next to the sink and began to undress, leaving your worn clothes on the floor.
The shower was kept in a room separate from the room with the sink and vanity, something you had read was common for Japanese washrooms. Inside the second room was a bathtub with a complicated looking panel next to it. With a closer inspection you determined it was used to fill the bath with water and customize the temperature. The showerhead was secured to the wall just to the side of the tub which meant you would have to hold it while you showered, but you didn’t mind. You were used to holding the showerhead for... other reasons.
Your shower was quick. You didn’t want to take too long when you knew other people were waiting for it. You were drained too. Even as you dried yourself off with a towel you could feel your arms start to get heavier.
You wrapped your hair in your towel and put on your pajamas shortly after, trying not to cringe at the way the fabric clung to your still-damp body. Usually you wouldn’t get dressed in the bathroom right after taking a shower because it was always so humid and sticky, you’d go out in the bedroom to do it, but as Sam’s girlfriend the latter wasn’t an option. So you dealt with the discomfort and ventured back into the main room.
It was dark now. Someone, you assumed Sam, had pulled the blackout curtains shut so that the daylight could no longer stream through the window. Harry was already fast asleep, but Tom and Sam were still awake, scrolling through their phones on their respective sides of the room.
Sam was perched on top of your bed, resting comfortably. He wasn’t underneath the covers, probably because he knew you didn’t like to share a bed with someone who hadn’t showered.
He smiled when he saw you and pushed himself up onto his elbows.
“Shower’s all yours,” you said.
“Thanks.”
You watched him rifle through his suitcase for pajamas and then eventually disappear into the bathroom before finally flinging yourself onto the bed. You still needed to take your hair out of the towel and brush your teeth, but you took a moment to just. Lay there.
Tom didn’t acknowledge you, hadn’t so much as looked at you since you came out of the bathroom, but you still found yourself looking over to him.
At the airport he had seemed at least a little concerned that he would have to share a room with you. Even in the cab to the hotel he kept sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. But now he looked completely relaxed and you were second guessing yourself. Maybe you’d been projecting. Maybe he hadn’t been anxious at all.
You, on the other hand, felt like you hadn’t been able to exhale since Dom had announced that you’d be sharing a room with Sam’s brothers.
It had dawned on you as soon as you stepped into the hotel room that you’d never be able to let your guard down. Before this point you had at least been able to take breaks, retreat to your hotel room with Sam and be yourselves without worrying that one of his family members was around. You hadn’t needed to keep up the act 24/7, but now you had no other choice. It was only for a week, but you knew it was going to be exhausting. You weren’t even sure that your current performance was believable, and that was without all of the more intimate interactions couples had in private. The good night kisses, the cuddling in bed together, falling asleep in each other's arms, the good morning kisses, all things you’d have to take into consideration. Most couples you knew moved in harmony, like they were one person, half of a whole. You and Sam were more like the hands on a clock. You were always moving in the same direction, and once in a while you’d overlap, but more often than not you were facing each other on completely opposite sides of the clock. It was what made you such good friends. Best friends. But what would make you terrible lovers.
To be fair, a lot of people misunderstood your dynamic, which you had been using to your advantage. They assumed that since you were always together you were basically the same person- and they weren’t necessarily wrong. You and Sam spent a majority of your time together. You knew each other well enough to finish each other’s sentences, to voice aloud what the other was thinking before they even said it.
The vibration of your phone next to you disrupted your train of thought. It was a text from Sam.
Can you come here rq? I need help lol.
Confused, you pushed back the covers and stood up. You dropped your phone back on the bed and walked over to the bathroom, keenly aware of the way Tom stiffened in his bed.
You rolled back the door and found Sam standing in his boxers next to the tub.
“What is it?” you asked, shutting the door behind you.
“How did you figure out the shower? I can’t get the water to be hot.”
“This is what you called me in here for?” you said, exasperation dripping from your voice.
“Yes! I don’t want to take a cold shower.” He said it like it should’ve been obvious.
“Did you try messing with the knobs? That’s how I figured it out.”
Sam’s cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as he pursed his lips, thinking about how to answer.
“Not all of them,” he admitted.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Sorry?”
“It’s the one on the left, dumbass,” you said and twisted the knob for him.
“Thanks,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I just didn’t want to fuck up the shower or anything.”
Men, you thought to yourself shaking your head.
“I’m going to bed,” you told him. “Before your brothers think I’m in here giving you head or something.”
“Let them think what they want,” he said, shrugging it off.
“I want to preserve what little amount of respect they have for me, thanks.”
Sam just chuckled and thanked you again as you let yourself out into the room with the sink. While you were there you hung up your wet towel and brushed your teeth with your finger and the toothpaste the hotel provided. You were too lazy to go get your toothbrush out of your bag.
“That was fast.”
You jumped, hand racing to your heart when you realized it was just Tom. He was still in his bed, but had rolled onto one side so that he could talk to you.
“You scared the shit out of me!” you hissed.
“Sorry.” He didn’t sound very sorry. “What did my brother want?”
God damn it, Sam.
“Why do you ask?”
Tom shrugged. “Just wondering.”
“He needed help figuring out the shower,” you explained.
“Glad he has you for that.”
You narrowed your eyes at the boy in the top bunk. He was trying to get under your skin. Why?
The ball was in your court. You could be the bigger person and let it go, or-
“He has me for a lot of things.” You pushed your tongue against your cheek so that there was a visible outline and brought your fist up to your mouth, moving it back and forth subtly so that he’d get the idea without being too obscene. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?"
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Craving
Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Vampire AU, Roommates AU | Smut, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Summary: Dating a brat is exhausting. Dating a bratty vampire is even more exhausting so you wonder, why did I even agree to this?
It’s a continuation of Love Bites but can be read separately because it’s really just 12k long of vampire porn with no real plot.
Warnings: Vampire sex, bondage, oral sex (69), overstimulation, unprotected sex, fingering, implied public sex, a little bit of dom!hyuck and a little bit of exhibitionist!hyuck, blood sucking (plenty of that)
Not once in your life did you ever imagine yourself dating a vampire. And certainly, never thought about living together with that so-called vampire boyfriend of yours. You never know what to expect from a situation like this but maybe it’s better not to think too much about it anyway since Lee Donghyuck always manages to exceed your expectation.
Before you became his personal midnight snack, Donghyuck had to search for his own food which either meant he had to buy blood bags from the cheapest hospital around or pick up girls with low self-esteems downtown to have kinky and messy—like really messy, blood everywhere, you don’t want to imagine—one night stands with them to fulfill both his needs for blood and sex. He often complained about it, grumbling with his lips turning into this adorable pout as he told you how he wasn’t fond of his way of life or the effort he had to make just to survive.
So now that he has you as his personal walking blood bag, Donghyuck is having the time of his life and he’s enjoying every minute of it. He’s one hundred percent happy all the time that it annoys the heck out of you. It’s not that you don’t want him to be happy—of course, you want your boyfriend to be happy—but happy Donghyuck means he’s gonna get all clingy and playful, and him being clingy and playful means hell.
“Hyuck.”
“Yes, baby?”
“I’m trying to do my laundry.”
“I’m aware.”
“So, can you get off of me for a second, please?”
“For a second? Sure.” He untangles himself away from you but only for a second, literally. “Second’s up!” The way he giggles is almost like a child, circling his arms along your waist and buries his face in the crook of your neck again, nuzzling up to you while chanting, “Cute, cute, cute, you’re so cute. The cutest girl in the whole universe!”
Donghyuck is clingy as fuck. He can’t go through the whole ten minutes without, at least, ruffling your hair, poking your cheek, or pinching the bridge of your nose. You’ve known for a while that he’s fond of skinship more than anyone you’ve ever met and it was bearable before since he only did it when he was flirting with you. But ever since you’ve become official, he just literally couldn’t get his hands off you.
So, how on earth would you get any of your work done?
The second the sun sinks below the horizon, Donghyuck will come out of his room with the biggest smile on his face and his arms spread wide, “Baby, I’m awake! Come here and get your daily dose of Hyuck’s loving!” And if you don’t respond to him in the way he wants to—which is by embracing him and kissing him for a good half an hour or so—he will make sure you won’t be able to pay attention to anything else but him for the rest of the evening.
He follows you around like a puppy, humming the same Michael Jackson’s song over and over again as he waits for you to finish washing the dishes, his feet tapping against the floor to match the beats in his head.
“Don’t you have something else to do besides waiting for me?” You ask, scrubbing the rest of the barbecue sauce off your plate.
“I do have something to do.” And he suddenly pops up behind you, blowing air to your ear. “You.”
And you raise your silver spoon in the air, forcing him to run to the other side of the room, whining, “Baby, that’s not fair!”
Whenever you’re busy reading a book, Donghyuck will snuggle close and insist for you to sit on his lap. You’re not complaining in the slightest because it does feel nice and he rarely does anything weird since he also enjoys spending his time watching tv with his chin placed on the top of your head and his arms circled idly around your waist. It’s you who tends to get distracted with the way his chest is pressing against your spine, his laugh reverberating straight to your skin whenever something funny is playing on the screen. And when you get distracted, your heart races, and when he hears your heartbeat increasing, he chuckles lowly, leaning in to nibble at your earlobe while whispering, “If you’re horny, you can just tell me, baby.”
And you smack him in the head with your book.
Today is a bit different. Today, you have dedicated yourself to switch your role and be the one who teases the hell out of him instead. But since he’s too sly, always a step ahead of you whenever you make a plan to humiliate him, there’s only one way you can win this game: ignoring him.
So that’s what you intend to do. When the night takes over and Donghyuck comes out from his room with a bird’s nest on his head and a cheeky grin on his face, saying, “Baby, I’m awake and I’m ready to hear how much you’ve missed me during the day,” you just sit there on the couch, flipping another page of your novel. “Hey, Hyuck,” you simply greet him.
“Hey, Hyuck?” He repeats, appalled and disgusted with the way you said it. “What kind of treatment is that? Is it that time of the month already?” He takes a whiff of the air. “No, it’s not. I can smell it.”
“For the sake of our relationship, please refrain yourself from smelling my scent to know my menstruation cycle in the future, thank you.”
“How? You want me to stop breathing?” He laughs to himself. “Just kidding. You know I don’t breathe.”
You want to roll your eyes and bury your face in your hands—ashamed of the things he said—but you realize that you have to play it cool and give him the cold shoulder.
Placing hands on his hips, he questions with a huff, “So I’m not getting any hug around here?”
“I’ll be with you in a moment.”
You move away from the living room, doing literally anything else but giving him what he asks for. Donghyuck sighs and follows you too, as expected, leaning his back against the kitchen counter as he waits for you to finish making yourself a cup of coffee.
“Did I do something that upset you?” He asks, scratching his cheek.
“No, of course not.” You smile, giving him a squeeze on his arm. But then you walk away, leaving him confused and bitter.
Ignoring him is both fun and hilarious because you can see him stealing glances at you even when he tries to act cool about it. He tries to distract himself by playing video games but he keeps on losing so he presses his fingers a little too hard to the controller, nearly breaking it in half.
“Careful,” you warn. “I borrowed that thing.”
“Whatever.” He throws the controller away, scoffing. “It’s stupid anyway.”
To know that his happy self can be reduced to this grumbling mess just because you’re ignoring him makes you feel elated and you wonder, am I a sadist for enjoying this so much?
Hours have passed and you still won’t give in to him, which is really something because he’s doing things that almost make you crawl back to his lap. Donghyuck knows how hot he is, knows how his eyebrow raise and half-lidded eyes do wonders to your heart and mind. So it’s not a surprise when he walks out of the bathroom with his wet hair pushed back, showcasing his temple and his perfect eyebrows. Droplets of water are sliding down from his bare chest to his v-lines, with his white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. He doesn’t head back to his room right away, and instead, takes a seat on the coffee table, right in front of you.
“Babe.”
You promise yourself inwardly that you will not take a fucking glance at him when he’s like this. “Hmm?”
“I know you’re trying your best to ignore me but your heart is beating like crazy.” He’s raising his eyebrow. You know it. You’re not seeing it but you know it. “Isn’t it time for you to give up your stupid little prank and make-out with me already?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This time, you open your MacBook, busying yourself with typing words on your keyboards.
Donghyuck walks over—still in his fucking towel and nothing more, for God’s sake—and leans closer from behind the couch. He looks over your shoulder as you browse the internet to find something to distract your thoughts. He snorts loudly when he sees the article you’re reading.
“Chalamet?” He jeers. “Who’s Timothee Chalamet? What kind of name is Timothee Chalamet?”
“He’s an Oscar nominee and he’s barely twenty-five. He’s cute.”
“So? I’m cuter than Timothee Chalamet. Way more beautiful too. Just FYI, they invented the term ‘beautiful’ to describe me actually. Happened a long time ago. It’s a fact.”
“That’s great,” you blankly respond, typing another name of a celebrity on the search bar. “I know there’s another term they invented for you.”
“What, ethereal?”
“Cocky-Ass Bitch.”
He gasps and he’s not even breathing.
And when you keep denying his protest, he pushes your MacBook away from your lap and tackles you down to the couch.
“I can’t believe you’re looking at some other dude when you have me paying you full attention,” he says, wetting his lower lip as he peers into your eyes, his body hovering dangerously close above yours. His eyes are gleaming with both desire and affection which still makes the knot in your stomach tighten to this day but you’re a tad better at controlling your expression this time. A droplet of water drops from the tip of his hair to your cheek.
Wiping it off with a slide of your thumb, you comment, “You’re wet.”
“So are you, ever since you’ve met me.” He winces at his words when a few seconds pass by in silence. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
You tap his cheek. “As long as you’ve learned your lesson.”
He pouts as he heads back to the main topic. “Your prank is going too far, Sweetheart.”
“What prank? I don’t do pranks, Hyuck. I’m not you.”
“So, why have you been ignoring me then?”
“Is it really that weird for me to just have some time for myself?”
“Well—I—” It’s the first time he ever seems lost for words. “I just—”
“What, are you thirsty?” You flatly ask, telling yourself to not let your eyes wander to the muscles in his arms and stomach. “Don’t tell me you want to drink again. It’s only been a day, Hyuck.”
“It’s not that!” He whines, pouting with his eyebrows knitting in a frown. “Can’t I snuggle with my girlfriend?”
“That’s literally what you’ve been doing all this time.”
“Yes, but you haven’t been focusing on me properly!” He sighs loudly, letting you go, and throws himself down on the other end of the couch with a loud huff. “You know what, I think we really should talk about this.”
“Talk about what?”
“About how you’re not really cute these days!” He blurts out, hands moving animatedly as he speaks. “You used to be all fidgety and shy, blushing all the time whenever you see me—”
“In your head, maybe. I don’t recall ever doing that.”
“See, this!” He throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “This is what I’m talking about. You’re mean to me now! Not cute at all!”
“Is this our first fight?” You ask, yawning a little which makes your boyfriend gapes in disbelief. “Are we really fighting over the fact I’m not cute anymore? Seriously?” But when he becomes more upset, you break out in a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” Still laying down on the couch, you tug at his hand. “Come here.”
He crosses his arms on his chest. “No.”
“You don’t want your daily dose of my sweet, sweet loving?”
He shakes his head, his lower lip protruding. “Why should I be the one who needs to crawl over to you? This is your fault. You come here.”
You exhale loudly but on the inside, you can’t help but squeal he’s so fucking cute.
You’re not usually aggressive during make-out sessions—well, at least not with Donghyuck anyway. With Mark, you had to take a lead or else you’d just end up watching TV until you both pass out on the couch. But you decide to step up your game today because just as much as he likes to tease you, you also like to tease him.
“Fine,” you say, crawling over to the other side of the couch and settle yourself on his lap. You lay your hand on his shoulders, massaging the tense muscles. “Better?”
Donghyuck is still glowering at you in response so you decide to take a step further. “You look so hot without your clothes on,” you praise him, thanking God that your voice doesn’t stutter. Your fingertips draw a line from his Adam’s apple down to his chest. “But I guess you already know that seeing how many times you’re doing this on purpose.”
He scoffs, swatting your hand away before he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t touch me. I’m still pissed at you.”
You chuckle. “Ah, so no Hyuck’s loving for me tonight?”
“No Hyuck’s loving for the whole week.”
“You sure about that?” Toying with the buttons of your shirt, you wiggle your eyebrows seductively at him.
He hears the sound of your button being popped open but gives his best effort to keep his eyes away. “What are you doing?”
“Undressing myself.”
“Why?”
“Because my cute vampire boyfriend is upset,” you pause to stand on your knees, tugging the rest of your shirt out from your skirt before you discard it to the floor. “And I know this would please him.”
He instinctively turns to you, his nose almost grazing your bare stomach before he quickly looks away again, albeit tempted to suck bruises on the supple skin. Donghyuck’s eyes move to stare at the ceiling, gulping at the sound of you pulling down the zipper on your skirt to loosen the fabric before you push it up to your hips, giving him the chance to stare at your thighs when he wants.
“Hyuck,” you move your hips slightly, giving him enough friction to entice his mind. “Baby.”
Donghyuck tries his very best to avert his gaze to anything else besides the part that connects you to him. “No,” he repeats, clenching his jaw.
“But Hyuck…” You realize you’re practically moaning his name now and it’s both embarrassing and exciting that you can play the role of a seductress and having that kind of effect on him. Hooking a finger around your bra strap, you pull it down, exposing the joints between your neck and your shoulder. “Don’t you want me?”
He suddenly whines loudly, throwing his head back with his teeth gritting against one another as he murmurs “You’re unbelievable,” bitterly into the air but you can hear his confidence wavering. It only takes another grind of your hips against him before he snaps.
You’re suddenly thrown back to his bed before you know it. He was moving too fast for your eyes to process that you could only felt being carried for a split second before you have your back pressed against the sheets.
He’s hovering on top of you, your hips trapped between his knees. “You do realize,” he begins, “That I never just look at you as an object of sexual desire, right? You’re more than that to me.” He bends down, one hand curling against the front of your neck, his thumb tracing your beating vein. “Way, way more than that.”
His sincerity and serious demeanor catch you off guard. “Yeah, also as someone to fill your midnight cravings.”
“Of course not—”
“I’m kidding, I know.” Your playful gaze is replaced with a tender one. “But you always react like this whenever I tempt you that way so I couldn’t help but tease.”
He scrunches up his nose. “You’re not cute.” But the way he slots his mouth against yours speak nothing but praise and adoration. “You’re not cute at all.”
Surprisingly, Donghyuck is gentler after your first sexual encounter with him. Maybe it’s because he feels sorry for sucking too much blood and went a little rough when it was your first time on everything. You always try to convince him that it’s fine and it doesn’t hurt at all during the time you have sex with him—because the chemicals in his saliva triggered an endorphin rush, pumping pleasure all over your body—but seeing how you could barely walk on the next morning, Donghyuck decides to restrain himself.
You still remember the second time he decided to take a step further, about two weeks after your first intimate session with him. Donghyuck was at his very best behavior that night—making you dinner, listening to you complaining about your work, and swaying his body with you to the soft music he played in the background. Being in such close proximity, you couldn’t help but wonder why he never laid a hand on you again. He did drink from you, once every two days, but he always acted so rigid, so jittery when he held you to his chest, drinking from the side of your neck. You were awkward too, not sure how to place your hands or say something to break the tension. You could hear him swallowing, once, twice, taking a big gulp each time and you could feel yourself drowning in refined pleasure, losing track of the world from his bite.
Speaking of that, you notice one thing. This endorphin rush you feel every time he sinks his teeth into your skin also affects your sexual desire. You didn’t realize that before because you were having sex the first time he bit you. You finally understand why those slutty girls he brought home loved having their blood sucked by vampires. Sex with a vampire itself is transcendent, so having your blood sucked during sex? A dangerous, erotic, and lovely bliss.
But Donghyuck never touched you that way, that was the problem. Every time he finished drinking, he’d retract his fangs back, making you whimper at the loss of his effects on you and leaving you dizzy with blood loss. He’d wipe his mouth clean, tilt your face to check on your condition—which you always responded with a goofy smile as you reeled on the lingering sensation of his bite—and say, “I’m sorry that you had to do this for me. I’ll carry you back to your room. Hold on to me.” And you’d allow him to do just that, secretly hoping that he would join you in bed but he never did.
Was the sex not good? Were you too loud? Too whiny? Too docile? Were you too shy? Does he prefer his partner to take control in bed? Be more aggressive? These questions ran back-and-forth in your mind to the point that you began to have trouble sleeping.
So when two weeks had passed after that bathroom incident and nothing happened, you decided to bring the matter down to the table. You were craving for his touch, even more so when he looked so fucking good with his hair slightly pushed back, his shirt doing nothing at hiding the muscles in his arms, his face hovering just a few inches away from yours as he led you close in a slow dance. You just needed to ask before you went crazy.
“Why won’t you touch me?”
Donghyuck blinked. “What?”
“Why won’t you touch me?” You repeated, heat rising to your cheeks. “After that night in the bathroom, you never… made a move on me.”
That question should’ve triggered something sinful coming from his mouth, probably like, “Oh, so you want me to touch you? Enlighten me, Sweetheart, just how much do you want me? Where do you exactly want me to touch you?”
But Donghyuck actually just stood in silence with conflicted eyes. You had to call his name to force him to speak. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”
“You won’t hurt me—”
“No, you don’t understand.” He cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing soothingly against your cheekbone. “Drinking your blood already makes me want to do crazy things to you. You’re so alluring, so…” He wetted his lip, his eyes going down to take in the shape of your mouth. “Intoxicating.” He moved his thumb to trace the smoothness of your lips. “I’m just afraid that I won’t be able to control myself when we take a step further than this. I don’t want to hurt you again like I did the first time.”
It’s funny how he mentioned the word intoxicating because that was how exactly you perceived him. His whole being was intoxicating, turning every sound in the room into a whisper, every bit of your surroundings into a blur. The world did not matter when you were with him, as it solely revolved around him.
So you yanked him down by the collar of his shirt, slotted your mouth against his, lips parting to taste a hint of the coppery flavor of your blood on his tongue. Donghyuck instinctively reacted by enclosing his arms along your waist, pulling you close until you breathed heavily against his mouth. He was a man of passion, burning like the sun, lips scorching as he met yours in a searing kiss.
He tried to break away, holding your wrist in the air. “Wait, stop—”
“I have an idea,” you immediately said, kissing him once again just because you couldn’t hold yourself away from the temptation. “I have an idea we can try, so—” Another kiss, but he was the one who initiated it this time. He pushed you against the wall, gentle but dominating, his knee slipping between your legs, pushing up the fabric of your dress. You moaned against his mouth, fingers fisting against his shirt, desperate for support. He slid both hands down your thighs, silky smooth against your skin, and lifted your legs in the air, forcing you to tangle them around his waist to maintain stability.
“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, reeling in the way he peppered kisses from your jawline down to your neck, tongue lapping at a speck of dry blood on your marked skin. “Let’s go—ah—let’s go to your room—Hyuck—”
He was busy having his hand under your shirt, splaying his fingers on your stomach before they found their way up to your breast, but he heard your order. He carried you back to his room, lips never leaving yours and you found yourself pressed against the sheet the next time you blinked your eyes.
“Those handcuffs,” you gasped out between his smothering kisses. “Those handcuffs of yours that you keep in your closet. Use them.”
Donghyuck abruptly stopped, tugged himself away. “What?”
You were breathless and lightheaded, chest heaving up and down. “It upsets me to say this,” you confessed, “But I remember that time when we haven’t started dating, I found a pair of handcuffs in your closet and—”
“You went into my closet?”
“To clean your stuff. You had your clothes scattered all over the place so I had to fold them up and when I was about to put them back in, I saw them. I thought it was probably one of your kinks so I just shrugged it off. You honestly didn’t realize how clean and organized your closet was that day?”
“Well, I was never messy to begin with.”
“That’s bullshit and we both know it.”
He pouted, sighing. “Right, so you knew about my bondage kink. You’re telling me you want us to use it?” He gave you a look. “You had sex one time and you’ve already found yourself a kink? Seems like I underestimated your sexual curiosity, woman.”
“It’s not that.” You rolled your eyes. All of this rambling did not fuel your arousal, at all. “I want you to wear it.”
Donghyuck actually looked disgusted. “I like to tie my women, not being tied up, thank you very much.”
“You said you were scared of losing control, right? If you’re tied up, you won’t be able to hurt me.”
He snorted. “A cheap handcuff like that won’t be able to hold me down, Sweetheart.”
“But at least it serves as a reminder.” You laid your hand on his chest, drawing lines on the cold skin. “I mean, I’m fine whether you wear it or not. I just want to be with you.” You pulled him down into an innocent hug, but the way you were grinding your hips against him was anything but that. “But if you feel this,” you palmed his length through his jeans, forcing him to emit a groan from the back of his throat, “can make you lose control then maybe we should try my idea. I don’t want us to stop, Hyuck, and I don’t care if you break me.” You leaned in to bury your face in the juncture of his neck, whispering, “I just want to feel you inside me again.”
“Fuck.” He groaned loudly against your shoulder, fingers twisting against the sheet. “Okay, where’s that fucking handcuff—” The way he tumbled down the bed—a century-old vampire tumbling down the bed—makes you giggle, even more so when he frantically rummages his closet, throwing clothes here and there, muttering, “where is it, where is it, come on, come on, come on, where’s that fucking thing,” to himself, until he finally hooked his fingers around a pair of handcuffs, shouting, “YES, I FOUND THEM,” to the air.
He hurriedly went back to the bed, looking breathless when he wasn’t even breathing, and crawled on top of you again. He chased after your lips and your laughter soon reduced back into gasps and moans before he finally broke away, asking, “Okay, tie me up. Hurry.” You’d think that being alive for more than a century would’ve taught him some self-control, but Donghyuck was eager and desperate, way more than you were.
He flipped your body before you could prepare yourself so you yelped in surprise, landing on his chest as he laid himself down on the bed, his head nearly knocking against the headboard. He offered you his wrists, saying, “I’m all yours, Sweetheart.” And you gulped hard, heartbeat blasting through the roof, heat rising to your cheeks.
The handcuffs were made of steel, cold to the touch and you secretly thanked the Lord that they weren’t one of those furry ones you saw in porn movies. You were secretly drooling at the sight of your usually dominating boyfriend lying helplessly on the bed, waiting for you to take the lead; his broad chest displayed under your hands, with you straddling him by the hips. His shirt was slightly pushed up, showcasing his v-lines and his navel that usually stayed hidden underneath. You followed his happy trail, disappointed when it disappeared behind the hem of his jeans.
“Stop being so blatant about it.” His voice was velvety, thick with seduction. “You’re gonna make me blush.”
“I—I wasn’t staring.”
“Never said you were.”
It was annoying how easily he could make you feel all hot and flustered. “S-shouldn’t you take off your shirt first?”
He held back a smile. “I can fuck you just fine with my shirt on but sure, I’ll take it off.” There was something in the way he grabbed the back of his shirt before he pulled it over his head that made you blush, averting your gaze but managed to sneak a peek at the way the muscles on his abs were contracting under the movement.
“Baby?” He snatched you back to reality when a few seconds had passed in silence. “If you don’t tie me up now, I’m gonna tie you up and have my way with you.”
You blushed. That… actually doesn’t sound so bad. You shook your head. That can wait. With shaky fingers, you place one of the handcuffs around his wrist and tied the other one to his headboard. He tried to yank his hand free, testing the strength of it. “I can break this in a split second,” he commented, “But I guess it does work as a reminder.”
“Do you have another pair that I can use to tie your other hand?”
“Leave my other hand free,” he demanded, eyes gleaming as he gazed at you. “I want to touch you.”
You breathed heavily. “O-okay.”
“So,” he smiled, awkward and amused. “We’re doing this?”
You bit your lip, slowly nodding. “W-we’re doing this.”
“Aaw, nervous?” His laughter sounded light in your ears. “How cute.”
“Shut up.”
“Then, come here,” he invited, gesturing you to come close with one hand. “Kiss me.”
You didn’t waste a second longer.
His kiss was slower this time, almost shy as if it was the first kiss you shared with him and it somehow made your heart beat even faster. You could hear him chuckling against your mouth, probably noticing your heart rate and you slapped his chest playfully to stop him from hearing things he wasn’t supposed to.
“Ah, you’re cute, so cute,” he kept saying, tracing his tongue along your lower lip, begging for entrance. His kisses gradually became deeper, harder, and his muffled laughter was replaced with soft groans. His praise was reduced to your name and you sighed in pleasure when you felt his lips moving down your neck, grazing your beating vein.
The position felt a bit awkward but possibly because you had never done it with him before. You were lying on top of him, your body pressed hotly against his chest and although he was already half-naked, you were still fully clothed. You weren’t sure whether you should undress yourself or let him do the work, but could he do it with one hand?
You remembered the time when he ripped your camisole and bra at the same time with only his fingers.
Yes. Yes, he could.
But Donghyuck seemed to be aware of what you were thinking because he ordered you to, “Take your clothes off.”
“I’m—” Flabbergasted, you pulled away, sitting straight on his stomach. “C-can’t you just take them off for me?”
You could tell he was trying to hold back another smirk from breaking upon his face. “But baby,” he cooed, raising his free hand in the air. “I only have one hand.”
“You practically ripped my undergarments with one finger before.”
“Did I?” His smirk grew prominent. “I forgot.”
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“What, being straddled by my girlfriend as she tries to undress herself while I’m being tied up to the bed?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Meh, it’s not bad.”
“Why you little—”
Donghyuck’s laughter was contagious when you tickled him on the sides of his stomach that you ended up smiling at him too but it soon faltered when he curled his fingers around your locks, bringing your head down to smash his lips against yours until they were red and bruised. You became nervous once again when he tugged on your shirt, silently ordering you to take it off.
“Okay,” you said, sitting on his stomach, fingers trembling slightly as they were fiddling around the top of your dress. “Can you… look away, please?”
“Why?”
“Because you’re making me nervous.”
“Baby,” he tittered, “Just in case you weren’t aware of this. Being your boyfriend means that I’m allowed to enjoy the sight of my girlfriend taking her clothes off.”
“M-maybe later in the future. Can you just look away now?” When he was still adamant about it, you added, “Please?”
He sighed. “Fine, but in the future don’t blame me if I ask you to strip-tease to make up for this.” He closed his eyes, lips pouting. “Also, this is the only time I’ll allow this to happen.”
“Two weeks in our relationship and you’re already ordering me around.”
“It’s not—” He groaned loudly, opening his eyes again to make sure you knew that he was glaring. “It’s not that. I just really want to look. There’s something sexy about girls taking their clothes off.”
“Girls?”
“I mean, you, baby. Only you.”
You gave him a flat look. “Whatever. Close your eyes.”
He jutted out his bottom lip but followed your command, while quietly repeating your line, “Two weeks in our relationship and you’re already ordering me around.”
“I heard that.”
“I heard that,” he mocked and you flicked him on his Adam’s apple until he whined.
Dating a brat was exhausting. Dating a bratty vampire was even more exhausting, but Donghyuck could also be charming and mature when he needed to be so you forgave him for that.
Seeing how he kept his eyes closed, you reached the end of your dress and pulled it off your head in one try. Strands of your hair were caught in the zipper, tugging at your scalp when you tried to unravel them in a hurry. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you gave better effort to disentangled them with more patience.
“Need a hand, Sweetheart?”
You jolted, a squeak fell off your mouth. When you turned around to see him, your boyfriend was staring at you with a bratty grin on his face.
“Hey!” Flushed, you slapped him on the chest. “I didn’t tell you to look.”
“You told me not to look when you took your clothes off. You didn’t say anything about me staring at my cute girlfriend having the biggest crisis of her life.” His little laughter was just as annoying as it was charming. “Come here, I’ll help you.”
Your pride wouldn’t let you but you had spent minutes trying to break free from your stupid dress with no satisfying result so, with a heavy heart and a prominent scowl on your face, you bent down, leaning close to him until he could let his hand roam along your locks.
“This is so stupid,” you grumbled.
“I think it’s cute,” he chuckled, carefully unwinding the strands from your zipper. “This is the cutest you’ve ever been to me.”
You blushed slightly. Trying to avert your attention away, you began to focus on the sight in front of you. Pressed against his chest, your face was almost buried in the crook of his neck. You took the chance to press soft kisses on the cold skin, running your fingertips down from his collarbone to his navel.
“There, done,” he said, tossing the dress away without a care. He sounded a bit breathily when your teeth grazed against his neck. “Let’s not waste any more time. Come here, I need you.” The way he tugged you toward him by your elbow was firm but not forceful. And no matter how much you had kissed him already, he still loved the way you moved your lips against his and never wanted it to stop.
Being on top of him didn’t necessarily mean you were in control. Even with one hand tied, Donghyuck knew how to lead, whispering guidance here and there, sometimes in the way that made you blush from how specific his orders were. Before you knew it, you were both fully naked, with you sitting on his thighs, stroking at his length as directed.
Donghyuck shivered under your touch, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure. “You—” He had to nip on his bottom lip to contain his groan when you swiped your thumb along his slit. “You don’t happen to have any lube with you, do you?”
You were so captivated by the way he looked, all needy under your fingers, that he had to call you by your name to gather your focus back to his question. “Oh, n-no. Why?” You stroked him faster, curling your fingers a little bit tighter around his length.
Donghyuck threw his head back, eyebrows adjoined in the middle. “Fuck,” he hissed, eyes glazed and when they peered back into yours, they were glowing brightly in topaz—almost golden, and brighter from the dim lighting of his room. “Well then,” he heaved, wetting his lip. “I guess, we’ll do it the old school way. Turn your body around for me.”
“What?”
“I want to be romantic and use pretty words, but desperate times need desperate measures so get your ass over here,” he gestured with his hand for you to come over to his face, “and your face over there.”
Steam practically came out of your ears from how ashamed you were. “What?!”
“I need to make you wet and you need to coat my dick with saliva so it won’t hurt when I get inside you.”
He wasn’t joking when he said he wasn’t going to be romantic about it. How the fuck can he say something like that so easily?! “I—I can’t,” you were practically wheezing, “It’s too embarrassing—I—”
“If you don’t want to suck my dick, you can just spit on your hand and—”
“I’m more worried about sitting on your face—”
“Oh, no need to worry about that.” He gave you a reassuring smile which somehow upsets you even more. “It’s actually something I’ve been imagining to happen—”
“Oh my God—”
“Would you stop freaking-out and listen to me, please?” He was laughing and you were having a seizure. “Babe, relax. Trust me, it will feel good.”
You had no doubts about that but still, it didn’t suddenly make it easy for you to just naturally sit on his face. But to be honest, the thought of it was as exciting as it was embarrassing and with Donghyuck being relaxed about it—not making this into such a big deal, unlike how Mark reacted when anything sexual occurred—you couldn’t help but succumb to your own curiosity.
“Okay,” you pressed a hand against your chest. “Just let me calm myself down a little.”
He suppressed a smile. “You’re having a crisis again?”
“Shut up.”
No matter how much you tried to compose yourself, you couldn’t. You became even more nervous, and you thought that wasn’t possible. The naughty twinkle in Donghyuck’s eyes gradually turned tender and he reached out a hand. “Here, let me help you relax.”
You let him take hold of your wrist, bringing it to his face. He kissed your inner palm before he dragged his lips down to your wrist, his eyes peering into yours as he did it. You could feel his lips turning into a faint smile as they grazed your skin but on the next second, he bared his teeth, extended his fangs, and punctured your skin with them.
“Hyuck—” You yelped from the pain but soon began to lose yourself to the ecstasy of his bite. You could feel all the knots in your body started to loosen one-by-one, your mind becoming hazy with bliss.
Donghyuck didn’t sink his teeth too deep and didn’t drink too much, only a gulp and nothing more even when his eyes were glowing bright, gravely needing another taste of your blood. He lapped at the wound, kissing the bite mark he made on your skin. “How do you feel?”
“I’m…” Your eyes began to droop, blinking slowly. “Great…. I feel great…”
He chuckled at your words. “That’s good to hear,” he said, “Now turn around and lower yourself on my face.”
You could barely hear him but you got the picture. As if hypnotized, you felt your body moved even before you could finish your thought. Donghyuck’s free hand was placed on the inner part of your thigh as you hovered above his head, spreading your legs apart. “Come down here, Sweetheart, I don’t bite.” You couldn’t see his face but you could tell he was smirking, and if you weren’t this intoxicated, you would’ve smacked him with the nearest pillow over his poor choice of words. But the effects of his bite and the rush of endorphin that were still coursing through your veins made you follow his commands without further question.
You were balancing yourself with your hands on his stomach as he ran his tongue along your folds, tasting you just a little bit but you already shivered at the sensation. “Hyuck…”
He hummed in response, sounding like he was having the time of his life, pushing your thigh further apart so you could lower yourself more, his tongue dipping into your heat this time.
You were going insane, you could feel it. Breathing heavily, you decided to focus on a task at hand. You curled your fingers around his length, thumb brushing against the slit again because you knew how much he liked it before, and you could feel him moan before you could hear him.
You gave a tentative lick on the head, kissing his tip before running your tongue along the vein. Your fingers were stroking the area your tongue didn’t cover and you could hear him purring in content. After a brief second of self-preparation, you parted your lips and tried to go down on him in one try. Donghyuck threw his head back against the sheet, groaning loudly between a train of expletives, so sexy and obscene.
Hearing his moans encouraged you to do better so you tried to swallow him whole again. You could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you tear up a little bit from the discomfort but you hollowed your cheeks and swallowed around him.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Donghyuck swore, his grip around your thigh grew tighter that it made you flinch but you continued with your ministration, bringing your hand into the game this time. It was so exciting, the sensation of having him dissolve into a groaning mess under your touch so you stroked him faster, sucked him harder, and continued even when he was practically whimpering in ecstasy.
As an act of revenge, Donghyuck licked his way deep into you with his free hand pumping a finger inside you and adding another one soon after. When you moaned around him, it urged him to go faster, his digits were now scissoring inside of you.
You were practically crying by the time he told you to stop, urging you to turn around to face him because “I want to see your face when you come.” You positioned yourself on top of his length, cheeks bright red from all the passion and lust you have swirling inside your chest, and slowly sank yourself down.
Donghyuck’s handcuff was rattling against the headboard as he reeled in the sensation. His fangs were extended once again, his eyes glowing almost dangerously as he gazed at you from behind his bangs. “Fuck, you’re so—“ he hissed, his eyes going down to the part where you were connected to him. “How can you be so sexy without trying—”
The way he twitched inside of you made you quiver, and you tumbled down to his chest, your face closing in on him. He met you halfway when you sent him a signal to kiss you, smothering you with his lips, wet with tongues and painted with both desperation and urgency.
“Move,” he ordered, his voice suddenly turning low and perilous. “Baby, move for me, please.”
You granted his wish, wincing at the feeling of him growing larger inside you. The friction still burned so you tried to muffle your cry with his kisses, but after a few shallow thrusts, you could finally feel yourself relaxing, adjusting to his length.
“Faster,” he urged, unconsciously tried to hold your hips with both hands and groaned loudly when his handcuff pulled his hand back to the headboard. “Dammit. Baby, please, move faster.”
“Be patient,” you said between small gasps. Your nails were almost sinking to his chest. “It’s only my second time, Hyuck. Let me do it at my own pace.”
He initially groaned in protest, eyes tightly shut with his eyebrows furrowed but when he managed to collect himself, he apologized, "You're right, I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so hasty, you just make me feel so—" His jaw hung low when he felt you move, and by the time you began to clench your walls around him, he took his bottom lip between his teeth, leaning his head back against the headboard, relishing the moment.
As you steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, grinding your hips against him, you admired the details of his profile—his sultry half-lidded eyes, his plump lips, his cute front teeth that peeked out when he parted his lips in a silent moan, the tiny moles on his jaw and neck. He was both handsome and cute, and you were lucky—so damn lucky—to be able to witness these details with your own eyes.
“Fuck, I can’t—“ His voice startled you, snapping you out from your reverie. “I can’t do it like this. I’m gonna go crazy. Can you get off for a second?”
You were frowning but his urgency made you follow with a nod. You let him slid off of you, wincing slightly at both the pain and the loss of him. Donghyuck shifted his body until he was sitting on the bed, his spine pressed against the headboard. “Okay, come here,” he said, patting his thigh twice. You crawled over to his lap as requested, sitting on your knees as he held his length in one hand, positioning it over your entrance. You lowered yourself down, adjusting to his size once again and wrapping your arms around his neck for support.
“I can never get used to the feeling of you taking me in like that,” he murmured against your ear. “You’re so fucking tight.”
The new position allowed you to embrace him properly and you took advantage of it, meshing your lips with him as you bounced up and down, your breasts pressing against his chest. His free hand was urging you to move faster, nails sinking into the skin and you complied, trying to move as fast you can. “Yes,” he moaned, mouthing against your shoulder. “Just like that. You’re so good.”
The sounds he was making were so erotic that they made you weak. When he felt your movements gradually became slower, he began to buck his hips forward, thrusting into you hard while holding you firmly with one hand.
He nearly broke his handcuff from how desperate he was in wanting to hold you tightly with both hands, fucking you senselessly like how did with you before in the bathroom. But the way the steel was nearly sinking into his skin reminded him of the sole purpose of having it around his wrist. Feeling restrained only made his thrusts grow even more frantic, pushing your hips down to meet his at such a quick pace.
“Wait—” Taken by surprise, you clutched your arms tightly around him. “Hyuck—”
He suddenly sank his teeth on the skin under your jaw, between the earlobe and the collarbone and you nearly jumped out of your skin. For half an instant, it was agonizing. Painful and horrible. And then, just like that, the pain disappeared. He swallowed twice, moaning against your skin, his thrusts going out of rhythm.
The rush of endorphin helped to push you to the brink, clouding your thoughts and you couldn't tell where your body ended and his began but it didn't matter. That was how you always wanted it to be anyway. Donghyuck's lascivious grunts tugged on your heartstrings and with a couple of his hard thrusts, you began to shake. "H-Hyuck, I think I'm gonna—"
His mouth was still on your neck, now sucking bruises with his cuspids threatening to puncture. "Come, baby."
You came undone, body trembling with the biggest orgasm you’d ever felt. Donghyuck moaned your name against your ear when he felt you clenching and shaking around him. “God, that felt so good,” he said, still moving his hips, not caring if you were still sensitive after your orgasm. “You feel so good around me. Fuck, I want to do this again and again—I want to feel you more—I want to break you—”
And when his hips began to stutter, you knew he was close. He pulled you into a messy kiss where you could taste copper on his tongue but you didn’t mind and bounced faster on his lap, driving him to the edge.
You were startled by the sound of him breaking free from his handcuff with a hard yank of his wrist, but before you could react, he was pushing you off his lap, forcing you to stand with your knees on the bed, facing the headboard. Still reveling in the aftershock of your orgasm, your legs almost gave out on you so you placed both hands on the wall for support. "Hyuck—"
He was almost growling when he placed both hands on your hips and pushed himself back in a way that was so forceful, you ended up having your upper body pressed against the wall. He brought your hips closer to his, his tongue trailed against the dip of your spine, and you begged him to, "S-slow down, I just came—" but all that he did was the opposite. He snapped his hips forward, knocking the breath out of your lungs with each pound while murmuring, "Just a little bit more, baby," with so much lust and avidity. You gritted your teeth, curling your fingers against the railing of your headboard as if you were hanging on for dear life. Everything felt so good, so fucking good that you began to part your mouth in a silent scream.
With his head dangling forward, glowing eyes covered with his fringe, and your name tumbling down his lips in a soft, throaty moan, he came.
***
“How are you feeling?”
Dazed and completely fucked-out, you thought, but only answered with, “Tired.”
“Are you hurt somewhere?”
You shook your head.
“Thank God,” Donghyuck pulled you closer by the waist, both of your naked bodies were buried under the blanket. “I kind of lost control at the end.” He sheepishly chuckled at himself. “You were so hot when you came.”
“Shut up.” But that only made him laugh a bit louder. He pried your hands away before you could bury your face in them and cupped your cheek so you could do nothing but stare back at him.
“Is it too fast to say I love you?” He asked and his eyes were sincere but you were too embarrassed to respond properly so you pushed your palm to his face, pushing him away.
“Of course, it’s too fast. We’ve only started dating for like what, two weeks?” But the way your heart almost leaped in joy betrayed you. You turned away from him, focusing your gaze on the bed lamp on his nightstand instead of his face. “If you tell me in like a year or something, maybe I’ll believe you.”
His laughter was warm, a stark contrast to how his skin felt under your touch. He leaned close, lips brushing against your hair as he embraced you close to his chest. “Then I’ll say it every day until you say it back to me next year,” he said, voice gentle and sincere. “I love you, baby.”
“Ugh, you’re gross.”
“There you go, playing hard to get again.” He whispered the next words with his lips brushing your earlobe. “Your ears are going red, though.”
“I’m going to kick you.”
“Well, I’m going to love you.”
But you kicked him anyway. The playful punches and kicks under the blanket managed to ease the tension, and before long, you were back to exchanging nonsensical banters with him again. The sunrise was still three hours away and even though your eyes were a bit heavy with sleep, your body exhausted beyond belief, you tried to keep yourself awake to spend a moment longer with him. You didn’t have any schedule the next morning anyway, so you could sleep to make up for the time you spent.
“Hyuck?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s… something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while but I couldn’t since I felt so embarrassed about it.”
“Oh? It’s not often you’re honest like this.” He smirked, pushing the bangs out of your eyes. “What is it?”
“Did you…” You cleared your throat, trying not to be awkward. “Did you get to come when we had sex the first time?”
He blinked twice, startled. “Oh… I didn’t, actually.” He timidly smiled. “You kind of passed out during that time and I didn’t have the heart to continue so I just carried you back to your room.”
With cheeks turning scarlet, you squeezing his hand. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He pecked you on the nose. “It was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have taken so much of your blood.” He gradually grew more serious. “I guess I’ve never thanked you for that, huh?” He tucked some strands of your hair behind your ear. “Thank you for giving me your blood. You’re literally the reason why I’m still alive to this day.”
“You’re welcome.” You mirrored his smile. “I have two other questions if you don’t mind.”
“Shoot.”
“Can vampires actually come?” You had to look away, noticing how stupid your questions was and added, “I mean, like, properly? Like humans do?”
“What, you didn’t feel it when I came inside you just now?”
You blushed madly. “I was too dizzy from the bite to notice.”
“Right, you passed out too. Again.” And before you could shout out your protest, he muffled your lips with his. “Of course, we can, Sweetheart. What, are you interested in making me come again?”
You gulped. “M-maybe later.” When you noticed him raising an eyebrow, you mentally slap yourself in the face.” I-I mean, not that I’m suggesting we should have sex again after this—”
“Oh? I was willing, though.” His godforsaken smirk should be banned from this world. Earning another punch to his stomach, he asked with a wince, “What’s the other question?”
You were still pouting from before but you asked, “Can vampires impregnate humans?”
“So eager to have my baby already? Two weeks in our relationship? Really?”
“Do you want to be punched again?”
“By your lips? Yes, plea—Aaw, hey, that hurts!” As he tried to soothe the pain away from the punch you landed on his chest, he added, “To answer your question, no. We don’t breed that way. Vampires are turned, not born.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He laughed. “Trust me, if vampires could get humans pregnant, then I would father hundreds of Hyuck babies by now.”
The thought of him having sexual relationships with other women in a way that was probably much hotter than yours made your heart drop to your stomach. There was an unfamiliar pain in your chest, pumping jealousy and resentment to your veins, clouding your thoughts with images of him lying in bed with naked women.
You turned away to face the ceiling, not saying a word. Donghyuck seemed to notice the way you got all tense and rigid so he laced your fingers with his, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “There’s only you now, you know that, right? For me, there’s only you.”
You nodded but only so slightly, still felt uneasy. You knew that it wouldn’t be fair to be mad at him about this—it’s not like he was cheating behind your back. And he’d lived for more than a century, of course, he had plenty of both romantic and sexual relationships. You were just upset because he was your first and that meant the whole world to you, but you weren’t even included in the top 10—or 100, even.
Donghyuck eyed you in concern and carefully wrapped an arm around your stomach, fingertips trailing around your navel. “Did you realize that,” he began, voice soft and tender, “a few months before we started dating, I stopped bringing girls to our apartment? I switched entirely to blood bags to the point I had to spend all my money. Do you know why I did that?”
You turned to him, snuggling close but still wasn’t brave enough to make eye contact. “Why?”
He had his lips brushed against your temple as he spoke. “Because it felt wrong. Every time I got together with someone, I thought about you. When I drank their blood, I thought about how your blood would taste like in my mouth. When I held them, I thought about what kind of face would you make as you writhed underneath me. When they moaned out my name, I thought about how hot would it be if it tumbled out from your lips instead. You, with that cute voice of yours.”
You blushed from ear-to-ear. “I-Is that so…”
He smiled a little, probably noticing how loudly your heart was thumping inside your chest. “I had to stop entirely when I accidentally moaned your name during sex. Man, she was so pissed.”
You nearly fainted from the sheer embarrassment. “How can you say these things so nonchalantly?”
“I’m actually pretty shy about it.” And this time he did sound sheepish. He lowered his head down, lips lingering close, nearly grazing the vein that beats faintly under your neck. “So don’t think about my past too much, because I’ve been thinking about you—only you—for a while now.”
You shivered, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Cool.”
Donghyuck pulled away, scrunched up his nose. “Cool?”
“Yeah.”
“I literally just poured all my feelings out to you, embarrassingly so, and your response is cool?”
You gave him your signature ignorant shrug. “Well, I’ve known for a while that you had a crush on me. I’m flattered. Thanks.”
“You’re so—” He attacked you with playful pokes and tickles, hands fumbling all over the place until you both ended up falling from the bed, laughing against each other’s mouth.
***
“Babe, you ready?”
You push your door open at the sound of his call, still struggling with tidying your bangs so they can frame your face perfectly. You’re about to go on a date with your boyfriend and this is the first time he actually asks you out properly. You’ve gone out many times with him before but it was always either to shop for groceries or have dinner in the cheap Chinese restaurant nearby.
So you kind of dressed up all the way, curling your hair and tying it up in a perfect ponytail—because you know just how much he likes seeing your neck exposed—wearing minimal make-up but with bright red lipstick, and a matching red off-shoulder dress that highlights your collarbones.
“Do you think this is too much?” You ask from the bathroom, still busy trying to put on your earring. When you’re done, you walk back to the living room, approaching his spot. “You haven’t told me where we’re going so I’m not sure what to wear—” You catch the way he’s looking at you, wide-eyed with lips parted in awe. “W-what is it? Are you thirsty again?”
He blinks himself awake. “For blood? Nope. For you?” He’s not subtle at all with his staring, eyes going up and down your body, committing every feature to his memory. “Parched.”
“If you’re gonna be this embarrassing the whole date, I’d choose to stay home, thank you very much.”
“What, can’t a man appreciate his girlfriend’s beauty?”
“Sometimes just a simple, you look nice, is enough.”
He chuckles softly, closing the space between you and running his thumb along your cheekbone as he cups your face. “I want to kiss you and ruin your lipstick so badly,” he murmurs, eyes almost glowing. The way he brings his lower lip between his teeth as he stares at you in a daze makes your stomach flip in delight. “But you look very beautiful right now and it would be a waste. I’ll wait until the end of our date. Then, I’ll savor every bit of you.” He leans in to whisper close in your ear, his smirk grazing against your earlobe. “In any way possible.”
You yank him by the hand, pulling him towards the door. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”
You can’t wait until your date is over.
***
Donghyuck reeks with charms and allures. You notice that, certainly, but unfortunately for you, so do other people because he is gathering attention from every woman he passes by on the street—even some men. He’s just walking along the pavements in his black ripped jeans and denim jacket, but he makes it look like a fashion show. He’s deep in concentration, thumb sliding on his phone’s screen as he searches for the location of the place he’s planning to take you. His brooding look makes you swoon but you try to be subtle about it, unlike those females who pass by, practically undressing him with their eyes.
You’re uncomfortable and jealous but you try to keep yourself composed. “Is it far from here?”
“Just a couple of blocks,” he answers, smiling as he tucks his phone back. “Are you hungry? Do you want to stop by and grab some dinner before we go?”
You’ve lost your appetite. “I’ll eat on our way back.”
“You sure?”
You respond with a nod but he seems worried. You notice some people whispering behind your back, questioning with a mocking tone about your status with this God-like male in front of you and you couldn’t help but to sigh. “Can we go now?” Your tone sounds a bit cold even to your own ears, and you feel sorry because this is not how you planned your date night to go.
Donghyuck must have noticed the silent chatters, or at least, the hurting look on your face. Taking a hold of your wrist, he pulls you forward until you stumble to his chest and kisses your lips. You swear you could hear people gasping at that, but you don’t care. You don’t care that he’s kissing you in public, on the side of the street, with his hand secured tightly around your waist. You don’t care if your lipstick is ruined, though he kisses you softly to make sure it stays intact. And you don’t care if people are questioning his sanity for dating a girl like you because Donghyuck belongs to you and he’s proud of showing that to the world.
When he lets you go, your lips are curving up into a grin, cheeks reddening both from the cold and his touch. “You have lipstick on you,” you say, tiptoeing on your feet to brush the stain off his lips with your thumb, and Donghyuck, with that sexy, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, parts his lips, playfully placing your thumb between his teeth just a second before he lets it slide away. Your head is about to explode from how sexy he just looked and he chuckles at the sight, pecking you on the forehead once. “Let’s go, baby.” He strokes your hair before he lets his hand slide down to your waist again, walking next to you with your body pressed close to his side.
It turns out your boyfriend is taking you to a photo studio which is quite huge for a normal photo shoot. As you see so many staff, models, and photographers around you, walking back-and-forth in the studio to make sure everything is in order, you begin to realize. “Are you—”
“Yep,” he beams at you, proudly. “I’ve got a modeling gig.”
Your eyes grow wide because by the brand logo that you see plastered all over the place—on the back of the chairs, the doors, embossed in articles of clothing—it’s one of the top designer brands in the country. “What—how—” You’re flabbergasted. “How did you get this job?”
“I got cast on the street.” He simply shrugs. “It’s a one-time gig though, so nothing serious. But it is my first time so I’m pretty nervous about it, which is why I brought you along.” He swats the bangs out of your eyes, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry. This is probably not how you imagined our date night was going to be.”
“No, but this is better.” Your eyes are scanning the place. “Look at all these models! They’re so beautiful—Oh my God, I know him!” You almost jump on your feet at the sight of a famous model getting his hair fixed by his stylist. “Isn’t he the one who was on the cover of W Magazine last month? Oh my God.”
“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Donghyuck pulls you back by the fabric of your dress. “I didn’t invite you to ogle at another man’s body.”
“It’s not his body, Hyuck. It’s his face, look at him!” You gesture toward the man with a sigh. “Look at those cheekbones, sweet Lord. His jawline has me feeling like sliced bread.”
Donghyuck snorts loudly. “Are you an idiot?”
“Might as well be. Can you get me his autograph?”
“I’m leaving.” And he really walks away, just like that, with his hands tucked inside the pocket of his jeans, and a scowl on his face.
“Wait, I’m sorry,” you hurriedly say, taking a hold of his arm. “Good luck with the photo shoot. I know you’d be amazing.”
He’s still not happy when he looks at you but he sighs, patting your head. “Thanks. You can wait for me in the hall. I think they have snacks and stuff.”
“Can’t I just linger around here?”
“To see me or to see him?”
“To see you, of course.” There’s no hesitation in your voice. “Seeing him is just a bonus. You’re my number one, Hyuck.”
He leers at you with suspicious eyes, still not one hundred percent pleased or convinced. “Well, I have to go. I need to change and get my make-up done.”
“Wait.” you hold him back again. “Do these people here know you’re, you know, not human?”
“No, and I intend to keep it that way. So, if you could just not mention it again, that’d help.”
You nod but when he’s about to part ways again, you reach out to him once more.
“What?” He whines, groaning. “I really have to—”
You stand on your toes and interrupt him with a kiss, hands winding around his neck. It’s just your lips meeting his for a few seconds and nothing more, but it’s still painted thickly with passion and desire.
“Good luck,” you whisper with a shy smile. He’s left a bit dazed but eventually nods his head. When he walks away, he rubs his nape, a gesture he tends to make whenever he’s flustered. You grin proudly to yourself. He’s wrapped around your fingers just as much as you are around his.
After half an hour has passed, you see Donghyuck walking back into the studio in a new outfit that makes him look so goddamn attractive that it literally steals your breath away. He’s wearing all black, from his turtle neck shirt, his khaki pants, his suit, even his hair looks somehow darker. He’s absolutely gorgeous, even the male photographer has to stop and stare for a good few seconds before he remembers to adjust his lenses.
Donghyuck poses naturally in front of the camera and it startles you how a simple pose could look so beautiful when it’s done by him. He unbuttons his suit, lets it falls off his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded as he stares into the camera—everything that he does reeks masculinity and femininity at the same time and you don’t know if that’s even possible. You’ve known that his body proportions are insane but this outfit just highlights every inch of his body that needs to be appreciated.
A staff hands him a rose and he brings it close to his face, his lips grazing against the petal—making him look like a painting. His usual cheeky grin has vanished without a trace and the way he stares back at the camera—both enchanting and challenging—sends shivers down your spine.
Fuck, how is he so hot?
Two hours long photoshoot feels like a minute to you and you’re feeling a bit dazed when it’s over. Donghyuck walks over to your spot, pushing up his long sleeves to his elbows. “Hey,” he says, smiling a little. “Sorry, did I make you wait long?”
“Oh… Umm…” You’re blushing and you don’t know why. You’re just suddenly overwhelmed with his presence. “Y-you were…” Fantastic. Breathtaking. Absolutely gorgeous. Please take me home and have me as dessert. “You were good.”
“Good?” He raises an eyebrow, making you gulp. “That’s it?”
“I…” Your fingers are curling against the fabric of your dress. “You were great.”
Donghyuck seems a bit amused until he realizes something. He leans close, making you flinch when he takes a sniff near your neck. “Why do you smell like you’re…” A smirk creeps up his face. “Aroused?”
Yes, okay, just kill me. Kill me now. “I’m not—”
“Seems like someone is enjoying this photoshoot too much.”
You’re about to combust into flames. “Are you done? Can we go home now?”
“You want to go home? And do what?” He bites the corner of his lip as he tries to contain his grin. “Enlighten me, Baby.”
He’s seducing you, torturing you, and he’s enjoying every second of it. “Fine, then. I’ll walk home by myself.”
But as you turn around on your heels, Donghyuck grabs you by the wrist and pulls you forward to match his step, going in the opposite direction of where you were planning to go. “Wha—where are you taking me?!”
He shushes you quickly and makes a turn, barging into one of the changing rooms that models often use to get prepared for the photoshoot. The room is bright with fluorescent lights, though not as spacious as you’d thought it would be, but the only thing that matters now is that it’s unoccupied.
Donghyuck kicks the door closed with his feet before he pushes you against it, lips meeting you in a searing kiss as he locks the door behind you. “Your scent,” he breathlessly says against your mouth, running his tongue along your lower lip. “It’s so thick with lust.” If it’s as thick as the teasing tone in his voice, you’re so doomed. “Are you okay, baby?”
“Shut up.” You kiss him, fisting the fabric of his shirt before you pull it off his head. Your hands immediately go down to his chest, caressing his stomach before they circle his neck again. “If we’re gonna do this then hurry up and fuck me.”
A small laugh reverberates from his chest. “So aggressive. And to think you were so shy yesterday.”
“Shut up. Does sex usually involve this much talking?”
“With me, it does.” He purrs against your ear, tugging your earlobe between his teeth. “Because then I get to see more of your expressions.” His tongue feels hot and dangerous on your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking cute when you blush, but you being aggressive like this isn’t too bad.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” You’re already dying from shame and his unnecessary comments only fuel it even more. “Are we really—” you gasp when he pushes you up the wall, and you quickly tangle your legs around his waist for balance, the back of your red heels pressing against his spine. “Are we really doing this? Here?”
“Of course, we’re doing this.” His hands are sliding dangerously along your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up your body until it pools around your waist. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since you laid your eyes on him.”
“What—” You throw your head back, making a soft thud when it meets the door. Hopefully, no one catches that. “You mean that model? I was just kidding—”
“Kidding?” He slips two of his fingers inside his mouth, coating them with saliva and it’s so sensual, the sight of him, that only seeing him do that already makes you feel sinful. He slides his hand down between your legs, wet fingers immediately finding their way to your heat from the side of your lingerie. “I don’t think it was funny.” He inserts his first digit, making you sink your nails into his shoulders. “Do you, baby?”
You’re breathing hard, temple pressing against his. When he feels you stretched enough, he adds another one. “Baby, I asked you a question,” he chuckles, scissoring his fingers inside you. “Do you think it was funny?”
“No.” You shake your head, a sob nearly escapes your lips. The mixed feelings of being dominated, teased and pleasured at the same time make you feel lightheaded, and he hasn’t even drunk from you yet. “I-I’m sorry.”
“Aaw, but I’m not mad,” he coos, kissing you softly on the corner of your lips. “I’m a bit pissed-off but certainly not angry.”
His words are doing very little in reassuring you but you’re too busy focusing on the way he’s pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing fervently against your clit. “Hyuck—”
“Sssh.” He perks up, his movements stop abruptly. “Someone’s here.”
You mouth What?! in horror, about to shove him away so you can land back on your feet and fix your clothes and hair but he keeps you still. He presses his body harder, one hand holding the back of your thigh while his other one still lingers near your lingerie. There’s absolutely no way you can fight his superhuman strength.
Within the next few seconds, you can hear the clicking of heels meeting the marbled floor and you hold your breath, fingers shaking but the rest of your body is still. Donghyuck keeps his gaze on you, his eyes unwavering as he tries to read the situation.
“Hey, it’s locked. Why is it locked?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t locked before.”
Two female voices can be heard from exactly behind you and you’re about to break out in a cold sweat. If you breathe just a little bit harder, they probably can hear you. Donghyuck notices the way your breathing tatters and with a gleam in his eyes, he smirks.
And moves his fingers again.
Your hand immediately shifts from his shoulder to his wrist, trying desperately to keep it from moving. Your eyes are throwing ice daggers as you mouth don’t you fucking dare to him but his sly grin only gets wider. He leans in to pepper sultry kisses on your jawline, up to your ear, whispering, “Keep your voice down.” And though he speaks reassurance, his fingers are not.
He slides one between your folds, tentatively pressing into your heat before he drags it back, heel continues to add pressure to your clit. It’s when he inserts the digit back into you that you begin to flinch. He helps muffle your voice down with his kisses first but when you truly need to be silenced, he pulls away, enjoying the view of your cheeks turning scarlet, bangs sticking to your temple with sweat, and adding another finger into your warmth.
“So cute,” he whispers, his eyes are starting to glow. You notice that their color changes depending on what he’s feeling. They glow when he’s thirsty, that much is obvious, but there’s also one other condition. The more he’s aroused, the brighter they get, almost turning topaz entirely, and soon his cuspids will follow, extending to take a bite. He still has his fangs retracted, but his eyes are gradually gleaming brighter as he takes in your expressions. “So pretty…” The way he praises you is almost like he’s in a haze. “I love seeing you like this.”
“What to do? My purse is inside.”
“Shall we ask around for the key?”
You’re so scared, terrified beyond belief and Donghyuck is savoring every moment of you trying to contain your moans. “Aaw, they’re going to open the door,” he murmurs against your ear. “What do you think we should do, baby?”
Fuck if I know. Your eyes are closed shut, your fingers curling against his nape. He licks a stripe up your neck, moaning softly from the desire to fill his mouth with your blood. “I know one thing for sure,” he swallows, wetting his lip. “I need to make you come first.”
Donghyuck always lives up to his promise. He knows what he’s doing and it feels extremely pleasant having his fingers deep inside you but you can’t give yourself into the pleasure entirely from the fear of being caught. But as he goes faster, now focusing more on playing with your clit, you feel fire coursing through your veins, loosening the knot in your stomach, and out of panic, you bite him hard on the part where his neck meets his shoulder, muffling your moan as you come onto his hand.
You can feel him flinching, a low grunt erupting from the back of his throat but you’re too dazed to notice. When the aftertaste of your orgasm starts to decrease, Donghyuck lets you down to the floor. You have to keep your hold on him as your legs wobble under your weight and when you look up, you see him with his fangs fully extended, his eyes glowing as bright as the sun.
“Hyuck—“ He bites into your skin without permission, and he does it fiercely, sloppily, that your blood begins to taint your dress. You’re grateful that it’s at least in the same color as your blood so a few drops won’t be noticed. The rush of endorphin calms your nerves, almost leaving your senses dull and you slide down to the floor, your spine still pressed against the door.
When he pulls away, he lets his tongue runs along his lower lip, wiping it clean from your blood. His eyes are strictly golden.
“My turn now.”
***
#haechan smut#haechan fluff#fullsunnet#lee haechan#nct scenarios#nct imagines#haechan scenarios#haechan imagines#haechan#lee donghyuck#haechan nct#nct smut#Haechan x reader#haechanxreader#nct fluff#nct timestamps#nct blurbs#haechan timestamps#haechan blurbs#haechan fics#nct fics#nct dream#nct#nct 127#Craving a.k.a the unneeded sequel of Love Bites#there's no plot it's just me writing down my fantasies#seriously guys I got so many messages of you all being thirsty for more vampire!hyuck that I had to write one#and yes the outfit he wore during the photoshoot is the one from his nct dream season greetings 2020 photoshoot#we all know how HOT he looked in that one#i don't know if this is any good and it's long i know but i hope it's not as boring as i think it is
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Eli/Hawk x Reader: Changes
Request: Can you do a Hawk x reader where they are dating since a long time and y/n tries to handle with his change from Eli to Hawk? @sophiahardy912
A/N: Thought I’d write all cutesy lovey dovey fluffy smutty things but then this angst came out? sorry if i failed you idk what happened here
Words: 2054
Warning: A few cuss words
----
Eli wasn't... Eli anymore.
Not just in a metaphorical way – he was Hawk now, inside and out. At first it was a refreshing change – you loved Eli back when he was introverted and lacking in confidence, but now Eli loved himself, and that was surely better.
Confidence is a good thing. Right?
You remembered the day he texted you 'Dig it?' attached to a photo of him – classic brunette gone, dyed down and gelled up to a Blue Mohawk.
The phrase 'dig it' by itself was previously foreign to the boy, so of course the new bold hairstyle was a big shock for you. Not a bad one, just unexpected. Even more unexpected was the new attitude that came with it.
When Eli walked up to you the next day at school, he adopted a strut that came with his new hair and attire. You almost didn't recognize him without one of the comfy sweaters he previously would wear, the ones you would steal borrow when you'd go over to his on date night.
It had been a while since you had one of those date nights – Eli wasn't fond of spending too much time in public, always feeling like people were staring at his lip – so you'd often spend the night at his house, watching some horror movie late in to the night, laughing together at cheap, unconvincing productions. Or, even better – clinging to him when a movie really was scary, finding an excuse to casually entwine yourself around him. You loved how he would turn red every time, as though you haven't been together for a long time now.
The last date night you two had was... unusual, yet exciting all the same.
Eli had been Hawk for a while now, and things were taking a turn for the worse. At first it was nice – Eli would link your pinkie fingers together under the table at lunch, Hawk would put his arm around you as you two walked down the hallways between classes. Eli cowered when anyone would so much as look at him; Hawk would shut down anyone who tried to start with him.
You didn't mind it, so to speak, when he got in to a fight with his former bullies. You were worried, of course, but Hawk knew how to handle himself. He beat the shit out of them and after years of Kyler and co taunting him, it felt like fair karma at play. You were actually proud. Hawk came home on cloud nine that day and you were all for being his cheerleader; it ended up being a night of great celebrations.
However, these days he was getting exceedingly violent with anyone who would look at him wrong. It was one thing paying back those who wronged him, but the whole karate thing was getting out of hand; it came to a red line for you once you saw his treatment of Demetri, the only one other than you and Miguel who accepted him far before he accepted himself.
You two had gotten in to a serious argument, Hawk stating that Demetri's treatment is his own doing for being such a nerd, you telling him to grow up.
A couple of days went by with you giving him the silent treatment. Hawk thought he'd just slide in by you the next day at lunch, kiss you and everything would be fine – but you weren't having it. If he didn't mind throwing Demetri under the bus so quickly, how long until that was you instead?
Not talking to Eli proved harder to do than you thought. After so long together it was strange, suddenly having this wall between you two. It had only been a couple of days of you riding the bus to school rather than on his motorcycle with him and you already felt an insistent pit in your stomach that refused to go away, no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself with schoolwork and your other friends.
So unsurprisingly, when Hawk texted you asking you to meet him at an unfamiliar address, you agreed.
It was dark out – the only people you saw around the road you were going down were a couple of shady looking dudes, only obviously under the influence.
You checked your phone again to make sure you were going the right way.
“You made it!”
Eli's voice startled you, making you look up from your phone. Illuminated by the blue florescent lights from the shop he stood outside of, he seemed... relieved.
“Yeah,” you answered simply, your eagerness to make up disapparating in to an unconfident hesitation. “what are we doing out here?”
“Look,” Hawk took one of your hands in his. “I don't wanna lose you. And if that means being nicer to Demetri or whoever of those dorks, whatever. I can live with that. But not without you.”
You hated how he knew exactly what to say, even if it wasn't prefect. It was enough.
“You didn't answer,” you said, allowing a flirtatious tone to creep up. “What are we doing here?”
Eli smiled, a smile that was more Hawk than Eli, and pulled you in to the shop after him, knowing he was well on his way to winning you over.
“This is my guy, Rico,” Hawk introduced, fist bumping the older man. Between the familiar name, funny looking chair and sketches on the walls, you knew exactly where you were and what was about to happen.
“Eli?” you tentatively called as Hawk guestued for you to sit in a chair behind the funky-looking one. Rico adjusted said chair and motioned for Hawk to come over. Eli sat on the chair, his back to you.
“You sure about this?” Rico asked, preparing ink on a side table. “Sure,” Hawk answered confidently.
Naturally, your curiosity got you up on your feet towards Eli's other side – of course you wanted to know what he was getting inked – but Hawk quickly protested.
“Stay over there!” he scolded playfully. “It's a surprise.”
The machine started buzzing and even though it wasn't you who was getting anything done, adrenaline started rushing, making you a giddy mess, forgetting all about your previous fight. As needle pierced skin, you spent the time waiting making assumptions over what Hawk was getting on him – at first you guessed the Cobra Kai snake, later guessing Sensei Lawrence in a heart – a suggestion that made Eli laugh particularly hard, in that way that he used to laugh when it was just the two of you (this earned a scolding from Rico, who couldn't get the work done if his canvas was jittering about).
It must have been twenty minutes at best before Hawk rose from the chair and turned to you, gesturing to the new piece over his heart – a heart with your name in it.
Was it possible to have your heart sink and jump simultaneously? On the one hand, you were realistic, and there would probably come a day where he'd regret this – a thought that made you sick. On the other hand, it was the most romantic thing you've ever experienced, and it was unlikely for anyone else to ever top that.
What was done was done, so you shoved aside any negativity and allowed yourself to revel in the love you felt, showering Hawk with kisses that quickly turned in to a deep, longing kiss – until Rico politely suggested you take the show elsewhere.
Apparently “being nicer to Demetri” meant ignoring him altogether, besides some threatening looks. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than the alternative, so you let go of it despite it seeming like Hawk was constantly on the edge.
You were ready for another date night – the first since the tattoo parlor – ready to get away from school and its drama, just to spend some quality time with your boyfriend.
Now that he wasn't shy anymore, he suggested going to see a film in an actual movie theatre, which was exactly what you were doing.
The two of you split up – you needed to go to the bathroom so Hawk stood in line for tickets. By the time you had come out you had lost sight of your boyfriend – the crowd around the ticket stalls had suddenly increased.
“You looking for someone?” a male voice asked. Turning around, a couple of guys you didn't know were approaching you. “Think you'd have more fun with us.”
Just as they reached you, a hand grabbed your arm. You were relieved to turn and see Eli – but he wasn't even looking at you. His eyes were locked with one of the guys – you could feel the tension in the air.
“Eli, no,” you whispered firmly. His grip on you tightened, moving you aside – but you weren't going to stand for it. You stepped in front of him, grabbing hold of him as he did to you. “You start something, I walk.” your voice was low, not wanting those guys to hear, but serious enough to make Hawk understand you weren't playing around.
With a grunt, he looked down at you, took your hand and walked away.
You optimistically thought the worst was blown over.
You and Hawk were waiting outside the theatre to be let in, chatting away when Hawk stopped you mid sentence with a kiss.
Another pleasant surprise about Eli's newfound confidence was how willing he was to show affection to you publicly, while before you two could pass off as acquaintances at best.
It was rather random but you accepted the kiss – even when he deepened it, getting closer to you, pulling you closer to him.
His hands started sliding lower.
It wasn't anything you haven't done in the privacy of your bedrooms, but to get that intimate in public, in broad daylight – it was too much for your liking.
“Eli -” you called, pushing away from him. He didn't allow it.
Pulling your hips to his with one hand on your bum, his other went up to hold your chin, tilting it back to grant him access. He managed to hold you for a moment before you mustered up the power to push him a few steps away from you.
Hawk was visually surprised – whether because of you or himself, you were unsure.
“What the fuck was that?” you asked, not bothering to keep your voice down this time.
Despite trying so hard to become this new person, new Eli still had old Eli's tells – and a quick glance he threw aside told you everything you needed to know.
Following his line of sight, the two guys from earlier stood there, watching the scene unfold.
“So that's what this is about?” you huffed. “some territory marking thing?”
Hawk struggled to gather his words, his bottom lip bobbing wordlessly a couple of times before he spoke. “Look, you didn't want me to take care of it out there, so-”
“So you do whatever you want with me? Like I'm nothing?”
“Y/n, you know it's not like that-”
“So what is it like?”
When Hawk didn't immediately respond, you turned on your heel to the exit. Hawk followed you outside.
“Come on, Y/n, you know I'd never hurt you!”
“You just did!” you yelled back. “you... I don't know you anymore, and I say that in the worst way.”
“What,” Hawk huffed, “you want me to go back to being a pansy? 'Cause that's not going to happen.”
“You know what's the worst out of all this?” you asked, coming to face Hawk. “at first I thought it was cool, you being all tough. Seeing Kyler become afraid of you. I thought it was great. But now... Now I'm afraid of you.”
Hawk frowned, the realization dawning upon him. “C'mon...” he lifted his shirt to show the heart tattoo dedicated to you. “Doesn't this mean anything to you?”
“Make it mean something.” you replied with a heavy heart, taking a step back and left, leaving Hawk standing alone in the parking lot.
#cobra kai#cobra kai imagine#demetri cobra kai#hawk cobra kai#eli hawk moskowitz#eli moskowitz#cobra kai hawk#hawk imagine#cobra kai x reader#eli moskowitz x reader#eli hawk moskowitz imagine#eli moskowitz/reader#eli moskowitz imagine
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Hi! So I saw that your requests are open and is it okay if I request part two of the headcanons of Haikyuu characters being sent nudes by their girlfriend? Iwaizumi, Kageyama, Tendou and/or Ushijima this time? Thank you in advance if you happen to respond!
bzzz! - various haikyuu x reader
yes! thank you for requesting part 2 i had so much fun writing part one LMAOOO (and wow, can we just.. i mean... like 135 notes for a crack post? am i being spoiled rn😳) ! there’s some nsfw themes (for obvious reasons) and all characters are aged up :) enjoy!
read part 1 here if you haven’t already !
iwaizumi
- will definitely make some ungodly sound LMFAODJFH
- probably minding his business, cooking food w his mother at the table
- he’ll sound like a strangled cat, has never swiped off of a photo so fast in his life
- excuses himself to another room
- angry keyboard warrior typing, he’s all like
- “what is wrong with you”
- you just send another photo LOL
- DEFINITELY BLUSHING
- LISTEN
- he might be acting like this but this guy…
- he is literally thinking about all the things he wants to do to you
- HE IS DEFINITELY THE TYPE
- iwaizumi just lets out the most cockiest laugh, exhaling sharply
- does that thing where you pinch the bridge of your nose out of agitation
- “yeah? think you’re gonna act like that if i come over rn?”
- the absolute SPEED his resolve changes
- one minute he’s lecturing you the next threatening to fuck your brains out like okay thank you, we all know you’re just holding it in at this point
kageyama
- revising with hinata at the library
- they’re both working on a maths equation w their phones face down on the table so that they’re not tempted to message
- kageyama’s phone just vibrates
- they both ignore it cause they’ve restarted the revision session at least twenty times now
- “kageyama, your phone keeps buzzing”
- “i know you idiot, i can hear it”
- “aren’t you going to do anything?”
- “no, we’ve restarted too many times, let’s just keep going”
- bzzzz!
- “kageyama…”
- “uh-huh”
- bzzzzzz!
- “umm..”
- bzzzzzzzzzz!
- “okayokay, oh my god i got it”
- picks up his phone, eyebrows creasing when he sees your name pop up on snapchat
- but…. he told you he was revising
- literally chokes on the air he was breathing
- his eyes blow wide w shock (probably the arousal tbh) and he’s just staring at his phone with his lips slightly parted
- instantly turns his phone off and slams it face down onto the table, completely ignoring his erection LOL
- hinata just stares at him like …….
- “kage-“
- “shut up, idiot! we’re still revising!”
- his phone goes off again
- and again
- he picks it up again, mentally preparing himself for the worst
- yeah and the photo is more lewd this time, it took him over the edge
- he can hear hinata squeak as he tries to look at his phone and instantly slams hinata’s face into the table, getting up with his bag already over his shoulder
- doesn’t even say why he’s leaving, just leaves staring at his phone w the dirtiest smirk on his face
tendou
- 1000% the type to hum when he’s happy oh my god literally a million times over whenever he’s joyful he’s definitely out n about humming songs to himself
- ushijima’s just tryna ask him a question when his phone goes off
- “one sec,”
- he picks the phone up, lifting it to his ear,
- “hey, angel- what’s up?”
- for such a smooth and sweet talking mf, he knows exactly how to press your buttons
- acting all sweet and showering you with pet names but he knows exactly what you want
- “oh, you sent me a photo? can it wait, baby girl? sorry, i’m out with ushijima”
- you can hear the mocking tone laced into his words
- “whaaat? it’s urgent? really, you want me to look at it that badly?”
- ushijima looks confused as hell
- hes like dude just open it its a photo
- just stands off to the side waiting LMFAO he doesnt wanna take chances this guy already knows
- come on… ushijima’s seen the giant crimson coloured scratches littering tendou’s back whenever he changes shirts before/after practice,
- ushijima might be stoic as hell and be unable to read expressions but my guy knows that those marks are not cat scratches
- “hang on, ushijima, can you gimme a sec?”
- “yeah.”
- tendou hums a small tune, biggest grin stretching from ear to ear
- walks a few steps forward to make sure ushijima is out of earshot
- “you really couldn’t wait, huh? want me to come over and put you in your place, baby girl?”
ushijima
- oh my god this guy
- LMFAO
- absolutely DOES NOT know how to react
- prob just finished a workout, half naked w another towel around his neck
- takes a sip of his water bottle whilst scrolling through his phone
- checks the message from his girlfriend first (obviously, he loves you)
- squeezes the water bottle with a little bit more aggression than necessary
- d-does he say something? send one back? not respond?
- hell does he just show up on your doorstep?????
- has the most fucked up thoughts about how he’s gonna handle you but he doesn’t know how to respond to a photo LOL
- imagine this guy leaves you on opened but
- hes tryna think of how to respond
- listen he literally cannot think straight with this hard-on he’s like wtf am i supposed to do now
- starts pacing up and down the bathroom LODNBGHDBF
- ends up messaging u after like 5 minutes
- u see the “ushiwaka is typing…..” and ur like fuckin finally
- “i’m on my way”
- nice one, ushijima
- you smooth bastard
#haikyū!!#haikyu x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#iwaizumi hcs#iwaizumi headcanons#iwaizumi smut#iwaizumi x y/n#iwaizumi x reader#tobio x y/n#tobio headcanons#haikyuu tobio#tendou x reader#tendou x you#tendou x y/n#haikyuu tendou#tendou headcanon#ushijima headcanons#haikyuu ushijima#ushijima x y/n#ushijima hcs#ushijima smut#ushijima x reader
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Runaway Ride
Fandom: Never Have I Ever
Pairing: Devi/Paxton
Rating: T
Word Count: 4889
Summary:
Kamala gets herself into a pickle, Devi needs to go to her, and Paxton has a car. Problem-solving has never been so simple, but that's how it is when your new boyfriend is Paxton Hall-Yoshida. Throw in a little hand-holding on the highway and this family crisis might just be the best date Devi will ever have.
When they finally took a break from dancing—disconnecting hands from hips and shoulders, lips from lips—Devi stepped away in a dreamy headspace. She almost collided with Jonah, but he didn’t tell her to look where she was going, only offered a shrewd, indulgent smile.
Actually, everybody was treating her like that; every eye that caught hers on her way to the table where she’d left her stuff was unjudgmental, admiring, straight up fairy-godmotherly. Devi hadn’t received this much notice since her dad’s death and her subsequent paralysis. And those looks had been pitying, freaked out. Positive attention was new and cool and she wondered, as she grabbed her phone out of her turquoise clutch, whether her socials would show more of the same when she opened them. Would people have snapped stealthy pics of her and Paxton dancing now that she’d been vaulted into the pseudo-celebrity strata of the high school hierarchy? Would the Insta posts be captioned with hashtags of their ship name? Paxi? Daxton? Vishwall-Yoshumar?
Devi never got to check.
Unlocking her phone, she found two missed calls from her mother. Maybe two wouldn’t have seemed like a whole lot to someone else, but Devi knew that, in order for her mom to risk rudeness by stepping away from the company she was hosting at home not once but twice, she’d need to be pretty frantic. Two missed calls from Nalini Vishwakumar were the equivalent of six or seven from any other mother.
Skirting the edges of the gym as she headed away from DJ Humanoid—that nit-witted saboteur of slow dances—Devi was about to call her mom back when her screen changed to an incoming call from Kamala. She pressed her other hand to her ear and answered it.
“Hey. Do you know what’s going on with my mom? She called me twice and, honestly, she knows I’m at the d—”
“Devi, shut up. Sorry,” Kamala sighed. “But I may have kidnapped your history teacher and now I’m panicking a little.”
Devi stopped in her tracks.
“You did what? Why is the sound weird?”
As she was trying to identify the background noise coming from Kamala’s end, her eyes swept over the crowd of her classmates and landed on Fabiola’s. Her friend had been smiling, mid-sway as she held Eve from behind and chatted with Sasha, but it fell off her face like Devi off Dr. Jackson’s roof. Fab disentangled herself from her girlfriend and crossed the room to stand with Devi. She was frowning, silently asking for an explanation for Devi’s distress, but Devi didn’t really have one yet.
“We’re in his car on the highway,” her cousin was saying. “He was a little drunk, so I’m driving.”
Devi had imagined that Kamala was exaggerating, but no, this was really starting to sound like a kidnapping.
“You better be on hands-free right now,” she lectured. Then, because she wasn’t exactly a paragon of road safety herself—barely an hour ago, she’d walked right out in front of Paxton’s jeep—didn’t wait for confirmation. “What the hell happened? Context, Kamala!”
“Well, as soon as I snuck out of the house—”
“But why did you sneak out?!”
“Devi, I can’t talk about that right now!” Devi’s eyebrows shot up at the clear and abnormal hysteria in her cousin’s voice. “I ran out of the house,” Kamala continued, “totally directionless, and the first thing that popped into my head was Manish’s invitation for me to come to karaoke…”
“Ew, what the fuck, don’t call Mr. K that.”
What? Fab mouthed at her, but Devi shook her head.
“That is his name and what he asked me to call him. Anyway,” Kamala said, sounding strained, “I went to your school and met up with him and now I’m driving his car and I think I might have shut my sari in the car door, but I’m scared to pull over and check because if I stop the car, I’m going to have to confront things and I think I’d rather not do that yet.”
“Kamala,” Devi said in a heavy, careful voice. “You have to pull over. I totally get what you’re saying because it sounds like something I might do—minus the part where you kidnapped Mr. K—” Fabiola’s eyes went dramatically wide as she was adjusting her tiara. “—but this isn’t you. You don’t run away from your obligations and elope with my teachers!”
“Manish and I didn’t elope. It isn’t in any way romantic.”
“For sure though? It’s not?” Devi heard another voice in the car ask.
“Mr. K, back off! Kamala’s in the middle of a crisis!” she shouted. “And please be drunk enough to forget that I yelled at you.”
“Devi, what should I do?” Kamala asked, sounding desperate in a sad way now.
“Where are you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Ok, well, which direction are you heading in?”
“Um, either north or south.”
“You’re a disaster,” Devi muttered.
“What was that?”
“Uh… I said, don’t drive any faster. Try to read the next sign you pass so you can tell me where you are.”
“Alright,” Kamala said.
Devi tilted her phone away from her mouth so her cousin wouldn’t hear her frustrated sigh. She locked eyes with Fabiola.
“Kamala panicked at her engagement dinner and ran off with Mr. K. They’re either headed for Mexico or Canada, but I’ll know more in a minute.”
Fab blinked.
“Wow.”
“I know. It’s a lot. And this is me talking,” Devi emphasized.
“I don’t know if you would do anything this big. Mainly because you don’t have a driver’s license.”
“True.”
“Santa Barbara in twenty-six miles,” Kamala said in her ear.
“Damn, you made good time.”
“The traffic was quite manageable.”
“Try to calm down a little and get off the highway when you can. Don’t go past Santa Barbara. I’m coming to talk you down in person,” Devi said. “Oh, and don’t answer any of my mom’s calls; she’ll just stress you out.”
“That doesn’t seem very responsible. How about I send her a text when I stop to let her know I’m ok?”
Devi rolled her eyes.
“Suit yourself.”
“Thank you, Devi. But how will you get here?”
“Let me worry about that. Text me when you stop so I know exactly where I’m going.”
“I will.”
“’K. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Devi hung up and sighed massively, slumping into the wall and feeling a streamer crumple against her back. She and Fabiola stared at each other.
“What are you gonna do?” Fab asked.
“Be the hero my family needs, but not the one they deserve.”
“Are you misquoting Batman to justify doing something reckless?”
“First of all, rescuing Kamala isn’t reckless, and second of all, the movie isn’t called Batman, it’s The Dark Knight. Young-ish Christian Bale, hello.”
Fabiola pointed a finger at her own face.
“Young-ish out-of-touch lesbian, hello. At least I was close.”
Devi sighed again while Fab smiled sadly at her in obvious sympathy.
“It’s after ten at night. How am I gonna get to Santa Barbara?”
“Assuming you’re not going to ask your mom—”
“No.”
“Then you need a ride.”
“You need a ride? I’ll drive you.”
It was Paxton, walking up and tentatively taking Devi’s hand while darting uncertain glances at Fabiola. Devi felt her entire face light up.
“You don’t want to know where or why?” she teased.
His expression said those were insignificant details. Wow. Devi’d never had a fantasy where Paxton joined forces with her, bounty hunter-style, to track down a flighty Kamala, but this felt oddly romantic. Passionate even? They’d see where the night took them.
“You wouldn’t wanna leave the dance unless it was serious,” Paxton reasoned. “So, I’ll drive you. You wanna go now?”
“I guess we better. Lemme just grab my…”
“I’ll get it,” Fab said, raising a hand like the nerd she was as she volunteered.
She darted back through the dancers to grab Devi’s things and Devi watched their classmates part for their Cricket Queen. She was so proud of Fab. Also, she felt kinda bad for ditching such a momentous occasion. But Kamala needed her, and would totally do the same for her if she ever went off the deep end and kidnapped a dude while fleeing a proposal. Not that Devi could see herself fleeing a proposal (she glanced at Paxton as she thought this, then quickly away, thinking, Way too soon!). Carrying out a kidnapping? With a sufficiently convincing pro-and-con list, anything was possible.
“Basically, Kamala freaked and drove to Santa Barbara with a drunken Mr. K,” Devi said, because Paxton might not have asked to be informed, but she wanted him to know what he was getting himself into. Beyond that, she wanted to give him the chance to say, No way, Devi. I came here to look hot and dance up on you, nothing more.
“Oh shit,” was what he said.
“Damn right, oh shit. You still want to drive? This is going to take a while.”
She should probably have felt guilty about trying to subtly persuade him with her eyes, but not only was Paxton the least complicated option, he was also her first choice. If she maintained eye contact long enough, Devi figured it might trigger some kind of boyfriend override that made going for a long drive at night just as appealing as staying here and dancing with her butt pressed thrillingly to his groin when the teacher-chaperones weren’t looking.
“As long as we can hit up the bathrooms first. I was going to, but then I got talking to Trent, and then Marcus was doing a handstand…”
“Definitely,” Devi assured him. “Good call. Empty the tank. Oh, actually, that reminds me… how much gas do you have in your jeep? If we need to stop at a gas station, I’ll have to factor that in to the ETA I give Kamala.”
Paxton shook his head at her, smiling in what she liked to think was affectionate amusement.
“I filled it up on the way here. I needed a minute to, uh…” To her epic astonishment, he ducked his head self-consciously, cheeks pinking. “You know. Get my shit together. Up here.” He tapped his temple with his index finger. “I wanted to show up for you, like, completely. You know?”
Right as Devi was at dangerously high risk of sagging to the floor in blissful bonelessness, Fabiola sprang to her side, shoving the rest of her possessions at her.
“Ok, ok!” Devi said, harried.
She had to dump it all on the bathroom counter a minute later anyway, but after she’d done her pre-road trip pee, she came out and gave Fab a better thank-you.
“Your Highness,” Paxton told Fabiola with a nod.
Fab nodded back, smiling wryly.
“Prosecutor.”
“I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship,” Devi assessed, “but we gotta go! Say congrats to Eve for me again!”
“Sure. Drive safe!”
Devi and Paxton pushed through the doors together, striding quickly with his hand wrapped around hers. In the parking lot, she glanced sideways to see him digging his keychain out of his front pocket.
“Oh,” she said, “so I wasn’t just feeling that you were very happy to dance with me.”
Until they got into the jeep, it was too dark to see whether she’d gotten him to blush again, but she liked to think that she had. He was definitely smiling.
They got in and Devi carefully tucked her skirt around her legs, mind on Kamala’s cautionary tale. At least it was until Paxton leaned forward to shrug out of his jacket and she saw his shoulder muscles jump beneath his fitted button-down, his narrow black tie swinging forward. Dang. Fifty shades of Hall-Yoshida.
“Santa Barbara?” Paxton double-checked once he was settled behind the wheel, steering out of the student lot.
“Santa Barbara.”
Until they were on the highway and heading out of Los Angeles, Devi did her best to keep her worry about Kamala’s situation contained to the way she flapped her phone against her thigh. Usually, she was stressing about the problems right in front of her (when she wasn’t blatantly ignoring them, only to have that approach bite her in the ass later), but with whatever was going on with Kamala, she kinda had to look ahead.
Had she wanted Kamala to get engaged to Prashant that badly? Well, the best thing about Prashant was that you never knew when having additional hot relatives would be to your benefit. (Devi was already hoping that Mr. K would get over the more nerve-wracking elements of this night and just remember having fun with her stunning cousin… and that this could possibly translate into at least a month of generous grades, if she could somehow spin these shenanigans as an intentional blind date arranged by herself.) However, an engaged Kamala was wholly different from a married Kamala. She wouldn’t be around to watch nonsensical episodes of Riverdale, or be duped into hijinks, or listen to Devi when her mom was too tired, or bitch about her shitty lab-mates in exchange for sitting through Devi bitching about her complicated feelings on the subject of Aneesa dating her ex. She wouldn’t live with them anymore, and the family that had begun to miraculously fill out after her dad had died would be back down to three. And the other two members of it would be old (Sorry, Mom, she thought) and not at all prepared to champion her dating life or the cleavage-accentuating formal dress currently buoying it.
So, yeah, Devi was looking ahead—eyes glazed over as the yellow lights of cars slipped around them to prevent her vision from fully adjusting to the blue-black sky—and feeling more than a little nervous and scared of the Kamala-shaped hole she’d have in her life if her dazzling, dorky cousin left her house for one she might eventually fill with the most beautiful children the world had ever seen.
Thankfully, Paxton was there. It startled her when he took one hand off the wheel and felt across her lap to grab hers, loosely interlacing their fingers. Devi quit hitting her phone against her leg. She sent off their updated location to Kamala and then let her phone fall flat.
“Did she say where she was?” Her boyfriend’s voice was quiet in the car and she realized for the first time that her head had been too crammed with thoughts to put on any music.
“Carpinteria State Beach. Do you know the exit?”
“We’ll find it.”
“And if you want me to drive while you rest on the way back…”
Paxton laughed.
“No way. Safety first.”
“Says the guy driving one-handed,” Devi countered, not that she was eager to surrender the hand warming hers.
He turned his head just long enough to shoot her a look.
“Whoa, pal, eyes on the road!” she said. (She had a half-baked plan to call her boyfriend ‘pal’ a few times and thereby de-weaponize the word in a memory that still felt like a fading bruise, an almost-gone sore spot in who she and Paxton were before they were openly a them.)
“Sorry,” he said, staring out the windshield again. He grinned. “You look gorgeous.”
“Really?”
“So gorgeous.” Paxton’s voice was softer this time, the underlying laugh it had carried since she’d offered to drive his jeep drained out of it. It was nearly a sigh.
“Thanks. So do you.”
“You know, I feel fucking awful for hitting you with my car, but I still think I mighta felt worse if I’d walked in and seen you dancing with somebody else.”
Devi twisted their hands, touching the back of his to her thigh so she was sandwiching it between leg and palm for a moment, aiming for reassuring.
“I wanna say I would never be that flaky, but my previous offenses speak for themselves.”
“So does doing this with me.”
“Uh,” she droned, “to recap, you left a fun thing to do a huge favour for me. You’re talking about it like this is my act of redemption. I feel like if you examine it for a sec, you’ll see how I’m actually kind of a dick for accepting your help.”
“I want us to be together,” he said bluntly. “Here we are. Together.”
“It’s that simple?”
“I don’t see why it can’t be.”
“Huh. I think you’re really gonna be good for my tendency to overcomplicate a situation.”
Paxton laughed and unthreaded his fingers from Devi’s. But it wasn’t to release her for pointing out that this date was, in actual fact, the coordinated response to a family crisis; his fingertips moved lightly over her palm, momentarily trapped when her fingers flinched inward in reaction to how it tickled, then traced along the thin skin of her inner wrist. He wasn’t trying to pull away. He was lingering. Though his touch when he sunk his hand into her hair or drew her closer by her waist had always been fairly gentle, it had often had the faint aggression of hastiness to it, clutching her as they made out in her room, always listening for footsteps in the hallway. How Paxton touched her now was pure, exploratory tenderness. It made the hairs on the back of Devi’s neck stand up as a wave of shivers rushed up her spine and crested somewhere around the nape of her neck.
He must’ve felt that wave break, the foamy aftereffects in some tic of her arm or quickening of her pulse while his fingers skimmed gradually up the inside of her arm towards her elbow, because he chanced another quick glance at her.
“That feels good,” she explained.
Paxton looked forward, nodding slowly, and shifted in the driver’s seat.
“Good.”
She thought it must have felt good for him too, knowing he’d made her shiver.
—
The miles were flicking past for Paxton—another, another, another, as fast and steady as the dashed lines painted between the lanes, his arms cutting the water on the front crawl. He wanted Devi, beside him, to believe that he was paying attention to his driving, but he was honestly kinda zoned out. Like that time he’d swum to San Diego, he let his body go through the motions (in this case, twitching the wheel, putting on cruise control when traffic thinned so he didn’t have to focus on the pedals) while his mind floated freely.
Where it floated was to his girlfriend.
At ten years old, he’d been the last kid in his swim class to jump off the 10m board. It was optional—a treat after getting water up their noses turning somersaults below the surface and doing egg-beater legs in between—but all the other boys in the group had done it eagerly, shrieking on their way down to sloppy pencil dives. Paxton had climbed the stairs all the way to the top easily enough, even stepped onto the wide platform, bordered by metal railings and rough under his bare feet. He’d walked out to the end and frozen to find himself so high above the pool.
He hadn’t feared the water, he’d feared the air. Being so exposed on his own at the end of the diving board. Eventually, he’d retreated, then surprised the coach waiting down at the poolside by turning around and taking the jump at a run. Few memories felt as good as the sensation of giving himself back to gravity and letting it reunite him with the water. He’d just had to get past the exposure.
Same thing tonight, going to find Devi at the dance. Holding her hand in his had been him reaching the platform, but when they stood together, just inside the school’s doors, Paxton hadn’t known for sure whether he would take the leap or retreat. And not just for a running start this time, but in a way that turned his sixteen-year-old present self back into one of those nervous ten-year-olds who wimped out and had to take the coward’s way down—descending each step they’d climbed. He might not have run, and yet he hadn’t needed to back up and race into their relationship either. Momentum hadn’t carried them inside for everyone they knew to see them. It had been a calm approach, even if he’d been shaking on the inside when he saw Trent staring at them.
So maybe Paxton had learned something in the last six years, or maybe it was harder to feel exposed with somebody right next to you.
She really did look gorgeous, like he’d said, and because he didn’t want her to worry about his focus if she spotted him gazing at the side of her face while she texted her cousin, the glances he stole were of the knee region. Her dress’s overlay sparkled when the high lights of eighteen-wheelers passed them and the specific teal of the dress itself reminded him of a river he’d swum in once during an out-of-state family vacation. Natural and deep and fresh, and exasperating for his parents because he’d accidentally doggy-paddled himself all the way to a small waterfall and hadn’t heard them calling him back for dinner around the campfire. He felt all that about Devi, except for hoping for a different reaction from his parents when they met her.
Holy shit. He was going to have to introduce his girlfriend to his embarrassing hippy parents. But then, she’d already met Rebecca, so maybe they were set? A sister’s approval should count for a ton.
No, no, no, Devi would have to meet his parents. He was doing this. The two of them were doing this. Paxton exhaled determinedly through his nose and made himself concentrate on the remaining miles he needed to cover. His mind, anyway. His hand continued to stroke and search, covering his girlfriend’s hand with his until he had her fingers tucked away protectively under his own, and then caressing all the way up to the crook of her elbow so suddenly that she made a noise between a laugh and a yelp because he’d unintentionally tickled her. Man, she was cute.
The very end of their journey required the most concentration from Paxton; he finally took back his hand to have both on the wheel as he steered them off the highway and Devi’s got lonely or something, because it chased across to where he was sitting and landed on his thigh. His jaw clenched. He could feel the heat of her palm through his pantleg and congratulated himself on being a driving legend for driving smoothly to where they needed to park for beach access.
Devi had a pink sweater that she put on, but Paxton grabbed his jacket out of the back as well in case she needed it. It was almost midnight and a breeze rolled up off the water, rippling his tie and swishing Devi’s dress. He didn’t have to ask what they should do next—there was just one other car parked nearby and Devi’s cousin was already standing outside of it, raising a hand to wave sheepishly as they got out of his jeep.
“Here,” he said, holding out his jacket for his girlfriend to put her arms through the sleeves. “You guys talk. I’ll be down at the beach.”
Devi turned her back to him as she accepted the jacket, but she glanced over her shoulder with a look of concern.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. You’ll want privacy. I need to stretch my legs anyway.”
“Just don’t swim away, ok?” she requested. “I don’t think I can handle more than one rescue mission per night.”
Paxton could tell by her expression that it wasn’t entirely a joke. He grinned and gripped his lapels, now on Devi, reeling her in.
“I promise. You’d probably take the opportunity to try to drive the jeep home, and I don’t want to risk that.”
“Me committing grand theft auto or me getting hurt?”
“I bet they tested you for smartness,” he said, “but you think they have a test for being a smartass? You’d score high, Vishwakumar.”
“I know, I know, you don’t want me to get hurt.”
She was so infuriatingly flippant, rolling her big brown eyes at him.
“That’s right,” Paxton said plainly. There he was, up on the platform again.
Devi straightened his tie and let her hand rest flat on his chest. He remembered how overwhelmed she’d looked the first time he’d placed her palm there, right on his skin. Even now, it almost made him laugh.
“Ok,” she said, and he was surrendering himself to the sweet strength of gravity, propelled down to the beach while Devi stayed to talk to Kamala.
—
Devi had heard that there were tidepools here, and she was nervous about stepping into one and spearing some aquatic animal on her high heel. Well, she couldn’t magically improve her night vision, but she could take her shoes off and remove the possibility of impalement. They dangled from her fingers as she picked her way down to the beach.
Her boyfriend was sitting in the sand, staring out at the ocean. It just looked so romantic—with the stars the sky was too bright to see at home, and the waves, and the back of Paxton’s white shirt in the moonlight—that Devi decided to slip into the scene without saying anything at all.
A mistake. Paxton gasped and jumped. Apparently, he hadn’t heard her over the noise of the water.
“Sorry, sorry!” she said.
He sighed and smiled, getting to his feet.
“How’d it go?”
“I think it went well. She was feeling calm enough to drive, so she’s on her way home now. She’s gonna cover for me until we get back.”
“That’s good… but what about Mr. Kulkarni?”
“He was passed out in the passenger’s seat,” Devi stated. “I guess he’s kind of a lightweight? Kamala said she’s going to drive back to our school and leave him and his car in the parking lot. She’s planning to call my mom for a ride home. If it were me, I think I’d take the bus and try to sneak back into the house as quietly as possible, but Kamala still has a lot to learn about how to thoroughly dodge your problems.”
“And maybe about how to climb to the second floor of your house from the outside?” Paxton suggested with a meaningful smirk.
She did her best to return it, but the odds were that it didn’t look nearly as sexy on her. Then again, she had moonlight and midnight and well-displayed cleavage on her side.
“How’d you learn to do that so quietly anyway?” Devi asked, tossing her shoes to the sand and stepping forward to boldly wrap her arms around Paxton’s waist.
He’d had his hands in his pockets, but as soon as she’d begun to move towards him, he’d pulled them out. His arms encircled her, his hands on the back of his own black jacket. Although Devi wanted to offer him the jacket back—he felt slightly chilly through his shirt—she didn’t want the two of them to separate. Besides, body heat was a thing. This was practically what it was for. So Devi just pressed herself closer, breathing the scent of the ocean and Paxton’s fading cologne.
“Trent,” he said.
“Yeah, actually, that checks out.”
Were there boundaries between warming someone up while having a conversation and just hugging them? It wasn’t clear to Devi, but it felt good when they both went quiet for a while. She stood unevenly on the cold sand and listened to the thud of Paxton’s heart.
“You never said yes,” he said eventually, quietly.
“Yes to what?”
“I told you I came to the dance as your boyfriend and you never actually agreed to be my girlfriend. We kinda just started making out.”
Devi lifted her cheek from his chest so she could look at him. He didn’t appear disappointed, more like he was making an observation. Maybe he’d been reflecting, out here in the dark, while she and Kamala had talked.
“In my books, that’s an obvious yes,” she said, grinning. “What more do you need?”
She could see him trying not to smile.
“A little atmosphere would be nice,” Paxton said. “Maybe a long drive, or the beach. A full moon. Romance me, Vishwakumar.”
Devi vibrated with silent laughter. Or her heart was just beating really, really freaking hard.
“Sounds like you’ve got some pretty big expectations there.”
“And stars,” he added. “There should be a shitload of stars.”
With that, he took one hand off her back to point far above them. Devi tipped her head back, the light of the stars a friendly blur as she tried to pick one to settle on, just one. Paxton’s face coming forward to hover over hers blotted them out. Her boyfriend kissed her, light and ghosting and then firm and slow.
“On the other hand,” he said, pulling back a little, “I think we were onto something with the making out.”
Devi smiled and dug her toes into the sand to make herself taller, lips at the ready and realigned with his.
“We did set a precedent.”
#my writing#Never Have I Ever#Never Have I Ever spoilers#NHIE#NHIE spoilers#Devi Vishwakumar#Paxton Hall-Yoshida#Devi x Paxton#Daxton#Fabiola Torres#Kamala Nandiwadal#couldn't find a gif I wanted and then all of a sudden I was making a moodboard
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Angry sex with Vinnie
So this is a very bratty reader and there is hitting in this I AM NOT ROMANTICIZING ABUSE! I can NOT stress this ENOUGH
THIS IS A EXTREMELY DEGRADING SMUT
But this might be one of my favorites I choose Bryce cus he’s problematic so it seemed realistic to me just imagine him and Addison aren’t a thing lol COVID DOESN’T EXIST IN ANY OF MY STORIES Covid makes me sad 😢 OK LOVE YOU GUYSSSSS ♥️🤌🥸
I’m almost done getting ready when I hear Vinnie come in the room. Vinnie and I are going to Jake pauls ( he literally has nothing to do with the story) party or one of the biggest parties in LA everyone gets shit-faced and either you have to crash there or you have to get a Uber. Needless to say, I'm scared shitless but I'm not gonna let Vinnie know that he's way too excited for me to bail on him. So I just keep getting ready and keep telling myself tonight's gonna be great, because it is gonna be great. Vinnie comes into the bathroom with his hair maintained and non-frizzy no matter how much I wanted to run my hands through it, I also knew Vinnie would KILL me so I resisted.
”Hey you,” I say with a smile ”Hey you look hot,” Vinnie says looking me up and down, I stopped and turned around with a straight face ”and absolutely breathtaking just say the word, and ill go ring shopping m’lady. Vinnie says with a shit-eating grin as he bows to me I smile ”well now that you mention it...” I place my finger on my chin pretending to think about it ” I would love a ring pop” I continue to do my make up as Vinnie chuckles. He walks up behind me wrapping his hands around my hips rubbing his thumbs on my dress before leaning into my ear
”you look amazing baby” he kisses the side of my neck ” I could take you right now,” Vinnie says in a deep voice. I turn around putting my hand on his chest ”don’t even think about it, I love you but we have to leave in 20 minutes and I'm still not done with my make-up.” I turn around again continuing to do my make up I feel a slap on my ass. I gasp at the sting of the hit ”such a brat.” Vinnie kisses your neck again before leaving the bathroom It's gonna be a long night.
Time skip to party
As soon as we pull up to the party a group of Vinnie's friends immediately take him away to play beer pong. I roll my eyes as I walk to Maddy and Avani, we get drinks and walk to the dance floor, about an hour has passed, and was done dancing and kinda just wanted to check on Vinnie. I stand up and tell the girls I'm gonna find Vinnie they nod and I walk in the direction he went when the boys pulled him away. Just more dancing people but no Vinnie, ok maybe the back yard I walk towards the back door and as I step out did I hear the most the last thing I wanted to hear ”KICK HIS ASS VINNIE” I hear people yelling ”FUCK YEA, GET HIM VINNIE ” I see Jordan and Kio high-five as they encourage Vinnie to beat the crap of someone. I run over to Jordan and Kio ”What the fuck is wrong with you guys stop him!” I screech at them Jordans head whips around with scared eyes as he runs to me and grabs me ”stop you didn’t see what happened and what Bryce said!” ” He fucking deserves it!” Kio yells kinda drunk.
Vinnie's POV
After the boys came and pulled me away from Y/n we played pong and shotgun a couple of claws (gross) before I know it I was feeling the alcohol. As I'm talking to Jordan and Kio I feel a slap on my shoulder ”ssssssup man” Bryce wraps his arm around my shoulder. I could smell the alcohol on his breath not that his slurring wasn't enough evidence to show he's drunk off his ass. ”hey bro what's up?” I ask
”not much but *burp* I do wanna tell you *hiccup* that Y/n looks like a million dollars tonight man” I look at him as I try to keep me cool knowing he's just drunk ”Like honestly dude*hiccup* if you weren't dating her I would totally hit it *hiccup* like her ass is perfect man, and her tits dude. Does she ever wear a bra I can always see her *hiccup* nips but it makes me so horny man?” Bryce laughs as he claps me on the back. I look at Jordan and Kio who look at me shocked, unfortunately for Bryce, I was far too buzzed to even think about what I was doing before my fist collided with his face.
Y/n’s POV
I push my way through the crowd and when I get to the front I see Vinnie on top of Bryce trying to curve his face in, both of his fists pounding into Bryce's face. ”VINNIE STOP” I scream immediately he stops and turns around seeing my scared face he stands up coming towards me but I walk past him going straight to Bryce and start to shake him. I hear him groan ”are you ok?” I ask as he slowly opens his eyes ”look I'm in Heaven” Bryce says with a wink before passing out all the sudden I'm being pulled up by my arm like a child. I look up to see an extremely angry Vinnie I could see him shaking with anger. ”ow Vinnie you're hurting me” I whine as I try to pry his hand off of my arm ”VINNIE STOP” I yell at him in front of everyone.
”YOU CAN’T JUST GET JEALOUS, BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF PEOPLE! AND THEN YOU WANT TO DRAG ME OUT OF THE PARTY LIKE A FUCKING KID I THINK THE FUCK NOT!” I yell at him with sass. As soon as the words leave my mouth I see his usually sweet and loving eyes change before me becoming almost emotionless. They fill with absolute rage Vinnie narrows his eyes at me picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder holding my legs so I can't kick him.
”PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN RIGHT NOW!” I pound my fists into his back and scream having an absolute tantrum, I'm so angry that I'm seeing red, not a few minutes later I was put on the ground.
Before I could push him away I was turned around and push against the car ”such a fucking brat!” He slaps my ass
”fuck you,” I say as I try to get my hands free I hear the car door open then the back of the seat being moved. Vinnie sits in the car pulling me I'm with him so I'm sitting on his lap and start to push on his chest to get away I know what's about to happen and I know it gonna hurt a lot. ”STOP YOU FUCKING BRAT!” Vinnie yells and finally holding my hands behind my back. Vinnie looks up at me and chuckles he holds my hands with one of his own, his other hand pulling on his belt wrapping my wrists together ”NO DON’T DADDY IM SORRY!” I say as tears start filling my eyes and my bottom lip quivers.
Vinnie looks up at me his eyes showing no emotion ”I'm not gonna hit you till I'm calm-” My eyes widen ”NO FUCK YOU!” I yell as I try to get away even though I know I can't but I don't want a spanking. I know Vinnie won't touch me till we’re home and it's a long-ass drive at least an hour or two depending on traffic meaning I'm gonna be hot and bothered AND my ass is gonna be on fire. I feel a harsh slap on my right cheek I let out an involuntary moan grinding against him ”STOP talking to me like that.” Vinnie rubs my cheek turning my face towards him ”you’ve made daddy very mad and after your punishment, we will be having a conversation about tonight right now I need you to take your punishment like a good girl.” Vinnie says softly rubbing my cheek I know he's trying to make a point about my attitude and he’s somehow being so sweet. I wish I could say it was me being extremely horny and slightly tipsy but honestly, it was just my pride I don't wanna admit that I'm wrong, for talking to him like that and hitting him in anger, which I have never done before, I feel bad but still, the words came out.
”NO! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” I shout right in his face Vinnie’s eyes lock with my own I gulp that was the last straw and I know it. All of a sudden my face is in the passenger seat my chest is against the armrest in the middle Vinnie puts his left leg over my legs so I couldn’t kick him or grind myself against him.
”D-Daddy don't please.” I sniff looking back at him with wide eyes ”I-i I'll be good daddy-” Vinnie lets out a dark laugh he then grabs a first full of my hair and yanks my head back I gasp ”I hope you cry.” Vinnie whispered in my ear before pushing my head back down ”Don’t fucking move or you get five more.” Vinnie lifts my dress so it's around my waist he ripped my underwear off throwing the ruined material on his dashboard. ”count” Vinnie demands ”How many-?” I start to ask ”DID I SAY TO FUCKING SPEAK!” Vinnie lands a hard slap on my ass
”OH FUCK!” I yell trying to get away ”thats 25 now.” Vinnie says as he pulls me back into place ”Now I said count, so fucking count slut!”
I feel the first one on my right cheek ”OW one” I said as I sniff holding my tears in. Another one SLAP! This time on my left I let out a cry as I try not to move an inch. ”TWO!” this time a tear slips out but Vinnie doesn't see it, his hand lands on my right cheek way more hard then the last one and before I could even cry he lands another one with the same power onto the left cheek. A sob escapes my mouth as tears fall down my face ”FUCKING COUNT OR USE THE SAFE WORD!” my heat throbs as he yells at me my arousal running down my legs. ”THREE FOUR!” I scream as a sob comes up my throat it hurts so bad but feels so good.
”T-T-TWENTY-FIVE!” I scream sob, my face soaked with tears and my wetness has been running down my legs, I could feel the puddle on his jeans. My ass is on fire and it's bright red with handprints all over the place, I have my head resting on the seat trying to calm down my breathing and crying. Vinnie silently runs his thumbs from the puddle on his jeans all the way to my slit, collecting all of the wetness from that thigh before sticking the digit in his mouth ”mmhm” he moans before doing the same to the other thigh, once again putting his thumb in his mouth again. I am however still sobbing ”you can cry all you want baby...” he kisses my red ass cheek ”you are just making me so much more hard.” Vinnie says before he licks my clit softly ”mmm daddy” I say with a small voice ”I’m still mad at you baby.” He says as he slaps my clit making me whimper ”please daddy” I try to grab his shirt with my hands.
Vinnie immediately pulls away so I can't touch him or grab him ”No, don't fucking touch me.” he says repeating what I said to him not long ago obviously, it had hurt his feelings and stuck with him. ”oh, daddy I'm sorry I didn't mean it that way.” I look back at Vinnie best I can from my position ”I really am sorry Vinnie, I love you.” I say with wide eyes making sure he is paying attention. He rubs my thigh ”I know you are brat!” he then slaps my thigh ”sit in your seat and buckle up I don't wanna hear a word.” he pulls his belt off and puts it in the back seat. A tear slips down my face, is he really that mad at me that he won't say I love you back, I crawl to my seat and fix my dress before I sit down soft and slow my behind still in major pain.
The pain makes me feel even worse knowing he's very mad at me I stare at my hands I didn't even realize I was still crying till he said something ”turn around baby let me see” Vinnie says softly. I look up at him and I sniff slowly I pull my knees up and stand on them and use the window for support as Vinnie pulls my dress up around my waist once again ”fuck baby I'm sorry” Vinnie says in a sad tone as he begins to leave light kisses on my cheeks ” I love you baby so much I'm just pissed at Bryce and then you were being a bitch about-” My eyes widen ” W-What? I was being a bitch! You dragged me around like a fucking kid!” I say angrily as tears run down my face ”you're a fucking asshole” I say to myself getting ready to sit back down but then I feel pain on the skin of my ass so much worse then before and it didn't feel like a hand.
A giant sob jumps from my throat and moaning I feel my pussy clench around nothing for the hundredth time this night. I whip my head around to see Vinnie holding his belt in his hand with an angry face and black eyes filled with lust and rage mostly rage. ”You never fucking learn, unless I treat you like shit so get in the fucking back! Don't say a goddamn word or I'll whip you with my belt again.” I gasp and I scurry between the seats my ass getting stuck between my seat and Vinnie's shoulder. ”My lucky day huh.” I feel him smack my ass a cry leaving my lips and I fall into the back seat my ass in the air. Another slap is delivered to my ass tears running down my face as I try to buckle up fast even with the pain in my behind, my makeup was definitely fucked up.
20 minutes later we pulled into a nice-looking hotel Vinnie grabs a napkin and hands it to me silently ”don’t say a word unless spoken to and just sit down till I come get you.” I nod as I wipe my eyes trying to stop the tears Vinnie steps out of the car and opens the back door on my side grabbing my hand and pulling me out after I unbuckle. I know this sweetness is going to be short-lived as it's just a front so people don't think something is actually wrong. Vinnie approach soon but first he turns around and asks how late room service is open ”24/7 sir” the lady says as she hands him two room cards.
”Perfect.” Vinnie says as he grabs my hand pulling me to the elevator the second the elevator door shut Vinnie grabs my neck and slammed me against the wall.
A loud moan leaving my lips ”i had to get the most expensive room so they wouldn't kick us out for all the screaming you're going to do from your punishments.” Vinnie licks my lips and cheek ”Open your fucking mouth!” he says immediately my mouth drops and my tongue falls out past my teeth. Vinnie spits in my mouth I moan loudly ”Swallow” so I did ”Again”
he grunts squeezing my neck and one of my boobs, my mouth drops open Vinnie spits but it doesn't all go in my mouth I shoot my eyes open looking down at the spit on the floor disappointed. I start to lean down ”Don’t baby I'll give you more.” I look up at Vinnie and grab his waist, a slap is delivered to my face ”I said don't touch me do you want me to spit in your mouth or not!” I moan dropping to the floor on my knees mouth open ”YES!” I say rushing to taste him again.
”I-I’m sorry daddy I won't do it anymore.” I say with puppy eyes my mouth open waiting for him to give me a gift. Vinnie looks down at me with a disgusted look tears fall from my eyes as I look up at him mouth still open waiting patiently. ”You're a nasty slut!” he slaps me before forcing my mouth open spitting inside. I moan at the taste and at the pain on my face I swallow reluctantly wanting it to last forever I then lick my lips and hold my cheek ”we’re the only people on this floor so strip and crawl to the room. Stay on your knees where you belong, for now at least”
He Pushes me to he ground It didn't hurt because I was only on my knees I take my dress off and my dra I go to kick my heels off
”Don’t! keep them on.” Vinnie says leaning down picking up my clothes as the doors open I see a long hallway and all the way to the end is a double door I crawl out and wait for Vinnie ”Come here, Now.” I crawl as fast as I can ”sit” my eyes widen I'm not a fucking dog I think to myself all the sudden I feel something around my neck.
Vinnie had fastened his belt around my neck like a collar ”Crawl bitch!” I gasp as my hands hit the ground we slowly move towards the door Vinnie behind me. I feel pain on my ass once again I whip my head around to see Vinnie whip my ass with my own bra. I moan I'm gonna have bruises for months, he hits my ass every once in a while I moan every time. We get to the door and he opens it with his key card. ”I have to run to the store you can shower if you wish and watch tv but I expect you naked and ready when I get back” Vinnie starts to walk away ”oh and don't touch your self, I'll know if you did.” he turns to me and looks down into my eyes before walking out.
I hop in the shower and then I lay on the couch with a homemade ice pack I made, with supplies from the room and the mini ice machine in the room, pressed against my sore ass. It's been barely been an hour, but I already miss Vinnie. I can't wait for my punishment to be over so he will hold me and kiss me I don’t wanna fight, I wanna sleep. My head lefts up at the sound of the door being opened. ”Get on the bed it's time for your punishment.” Vinnie says as he comes in with a couple of different black bags I Eye them suspicious of what's inside.
”Don't worry about it and lay on your stomach.” Vinnie says in a slightly angry tone I rush on the bed and lay my head in a pillow I feel Vinnie slightly sit on my lower back making the bed dip. All of the sudden my hand is being tired to the headboard then the other he gets off me before doing the same to my legs. I'm spread like a starfish and I can't turn my head to see anything. ”scream and cry all you want I don’t care.” and with that, he gets off me not a second later I hear him fiddle with the bags and then silence then I hear... Buzzing?
My eyes widen as I realize what my punishment is ”NO DADDY PLEASE I-I IM SORRY NOT THAT PLEASE!” tears immediately pour down my face I pull at my restraints even though it's useless. ”Maybe you will listen first then run your loudmouth Brat.” I feel the head of the vibrator enter me and I moan immediately pleasure runs through me I hear another vibration and then out of nowhere, Vinnie pulls a smaller vibrator out and positioned right at my clit. I moan even louder I can feel my first orgasm approach. I feel a slap on my ass ”n-no more daddy please I will behave and l-listen.”
I sob as he delivers more smacks to my overly sore ass my orgasm ripping through me another already on its way. I hear Vinnie start to look in the bags again he pulls my hair back ”see this” Vinnie shows me a stick or so I think. He pulls on one of the ends and it comes off releasing a bunch of leather strings my eyes widen in fear he's gonna whip me with a real sex whip my second orgasm making me shakes and convulses almost pushing the vibrator out. Vinnie pushes it back in all the way before he starts whipping my ass with the whip my third orgasm approaching fast ”AAAH MAKE IT STOP VINNIE IT’S TOO MUCH TO FAST!” I yell tears running down my face
”what’s that? turn them on high! ok whatever you say.” Vinnie chuckled deeply ”Nooooooo” I moan as the vibrations make my third orgasm be forced out I scream nonsense orgasm after orgasm driving me crazy.
-two hours later-
I was sobbing and screaming as another orgasm ripped me apart it feels so good but it hurts to breathe at this point. ”CORN MUSTARD” I yell the safe word. Immediately the vibration stop and are pulled from my body Vinnie unties my hands and feet ”BABY ARE YOU OK” he softly turns me over on my back and I hiss in pain everything hurts ”NO FUCK YOU!” I yell not meaning a word of it ”oh baby I'm so sorry-” I push him away I'm not even mad at him I'm just in pain and still unsatisfied ashamed I still want his dick and his mouth on mine I feel a Slap ”WHY CAN’T YOU FUCKING LEARN??!? DO I HAVE TO HURT YOU WITH MY COCK AND WORDS TO MAKE YOU FUCKING LISTEN!” he slams his rock hard cock into me I didn't even know he was naked till now ”UGH I HATE YOU.” I yell
Vinnie stops and pulls out of me he slams back in making me moan ”FUCK YOU, THAT'S WHY YOU’RE A SLAVE FOR MY COCK, YOU FUCKING WHORE!” Vinnie yells as he slaps my face. Begin to moan uncontrollably it feels so good I can feel him in my belly his big ass cock ramming into my uterus. ”FUCK DADDY IM SORRY I SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO YOU I DON’T HATE YOU I LOVE YOU S-SO MUCH DADDY! IM YOUR SLUTTY WHORE PLEASE PUT YOUR CUM IN ME AND FILL ME UP, DADDY” I was shaking around his cock his breath in my face I just wanted to taste him so bad ”p-please kiss me daddy.” Vinnie looks down at me ”WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I KISS YOU BITCH, YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT BE A PAIN IN THE ASS TONIGHT!” I sob I just wanted to feel that he loves me I feel so stupid and useless right now. The sobs no longer from the pleasure but from my broken heart Vinnie slows down looking at my devastated face as real emotional tears and gasps left my body as I just laid there.
”b-baby?” Vinnie asks still pounding into me he stops still inside of me I look up at him and hiccup ”y-you don’t love me anymore because I said a-all those nasty things I d-didn’t mean it a-and you hate me now” I cry into the pillow Vinnie grabs my face wiping all of my tears and kissing me on the lips sweet and passionately taking my breath away.
”mmmmm” I moan into his kiss sliding my tongue in his mouth putting my hand in his hair and hugging his body close to me I was drooling at his taste kissing him harder and grinding against him. I feel Vinnie smile as he begins to fuck me again this time with passion and love not anger and resentment. We both are kissing sloppy and moaning into each others mouths as he pounds into me.
”FUUUUCK I LOVE YOU SO MUCH IM GONNA CUM” He moans as he cums deep inside of me causing me to release ”DADDY YESS THANK YOU IM SORRY.” I lay there as Vinnie pulls out my head snaps up ”Nononono I want it.” I open my mouth for his slightly stiff cum covered cock.
”fuck such a nasty girl...” he moans as he puts his cock down my throat choking me
”mmmmm baby I forgive you, you’re so perfect in every way.” he moans taking his soft cock out of my sucking mouth I start to whine but Vinnie pops his finger in my mouth keeping me busy still I pass out.
Vinnie’s POV
”My sweet girl.... No more alcohol for you but I do love you very much you have never been so bratty.” I kiss her lips and turn off the light's pulling my brat closer as I snuggle into her neck I couldn't ask for more.
#vinnie hacker smut#vinnie hacker#vinnie hacker x reader#vinnie hacker images#smut#skateboarding#bryce hall#jordan huxhold#kio cyr#angry sex
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The Reflection
For @whumpawoman Angstpril! Day 12 - Forced to Watch
Cassiel Belanger belongs to @painful-pooch and is used with permission
Continued HERE (coming soon)
Across the Stars and Through the Meadow Masterlist (Cas and Star AU)
Tagging the Star crew: @ashintheairlikesnow @whumpinggrounds @whumptakesthecake @justplainwhump @whumpfessional @winedark-whump
CW: EXPLICIT NONCON, NSFWHUMP, MINORS DNI, lady whump, BBU, former pet whumpees, dehumanization, derogatory language, degradation, self-hatred, defiant whumpee, this is fairly intense so let me know if I missed anything!
***
“Excuse me.”
Star turns around, one hand on her hip, the other holding an empty glass. Tonight’s been slammed, she’s barely had a minute to breathe, let alone go pop an Advil for the pain creeping into her bones. “Give me one moment, I’m making a drink.”
The man across the bar, the one who interrupted her, sheepishly smiles. He’s not unattractive, in his late twenties. His friends have been by the pool tables for the last thirty minutes, all playing horribly. “I’m afraid it can’t exactly wait. Someone’s in the bathroom, he seems really sick and I don’t know what to do.”
“Fine.” She sets the glass down and wipes her hands off. She looks around for her knife, better safe than sorry, but swears internally when she remembers that Cas took it because he thought she was in a bad mood this morning.
Damn you, Cassiel. She glares over at the kitchen, but all he does is wave eagerly at her.
Star steps out from around the counter. “Alright. Let’s go. The sick dude, he one of your friends?”
There’s a slight pause before the man answers, something off about his voice. “No. I just went in to…you know.” His laughter sounds forced, and Star doesn’t like how close he’s standing. Her fingers twitch, wishing she had her knife.
“Actually, you know what?” She says, stopping in her tracks. “Let me go grab the bouncer, if this guy’s really that drunk, I could use the help.”
The man puts his hand on her upper back. “I’m sure he’s busy. I’ll help you out if he gets too rowdy.”
Star looks over her shoulder, but she can see Andy busy checking people in at the door and watching over the crowd. “Yeah. Okay.”
They make it to the bathroom, and the man opens the door. “After you.”
She nods at him and steps in. The lights are off, and she fumbles for the light switch, but not before she hears the door lock behind her.
Starr finds the light switch, and her heart sinks at what she sees. There’s no sick man in sight. Instead, there are three other men standing there, one holding a switchblade.
“What the fuck!” Star yells, turning around to escape, but the man from before blocks her.
“Not so fast.” He steps forward, crowding her into the center of the room. “Don’t make a sound, little boxie, or Owen will slit your throat.”
They want her to fight. They want to take her back to WRU and make her into a good Guard Dog. They want to get the pretty finder’s fee on runaway pets.
Star stares defiantly at the man, a growl escaping her throat. “Let me out and I won’t shatter your skull.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
Star whips around, seeing that each man has stepped even farther forward, boxing her in. Her heart pounds into her chest. Think. Be reasonable. If they want to take her to WRU, they probably have some drugs or something to knock her out. She just has to fight her way out of here.
She was always one hell of a fighting mutt.
Star shakes her head and takes up a defensive stance, slowly stepping around to make eye contact with each of the men. “I’ll kill you before I go back.”
“Go back where?” One of the men asks, a sadistic grin on his face.
Star stares at him. “You know where.” There’s a single beat, one half moment of silence before she lunges forward, aiming a kick at the man’s chest. It lands, and he goes stumbling backwards, but someone is grabbing Star from behind, pinning her arms behind her back.
She snarls, thrashing in the grip and shooting her leg out behind her.
Greco taught her well, she’s lucky for that, lucky she caught onto the training so quickly. She catches her attacker in the sensitive spot just above the knee and wrenches herself from his grasp. She doesn’t wait a moment before she attacks the next person, trying to land a flurry of punches and drive the man away so she can get to the door.
Get to the door. She knows this drill, she’s done it before. Get to the door and protect your owner. She always was such a good fighter, but these days, her body is breaking down.
Pain shoots through her back, and Star winces, her rhythm thrown off by the sudden flash of agony. She stumbles backwards, hitting the far wall, and one of the men takes the chance to jump on her and start punching.
Star’s vision blurs, her ears ring as the blows rain down on her face, blood dripping from her nose and mouth and cheek. She puts her hands up to protect her head, knowing her only option is to try to protect herself
The first man walks up to her, grabbing her by the hair and twisting her head back to look at him. “You fucking bitch.”
One of the other men slams his fist into her stomach, and Star doubles over, gasping for breath. “Who’s she going with first?”
So they’re going to take turns carting her back to WRU, back to the white walls. Star whimpers. She has to get out of here, she can’t go back but her body is being torn apart by pain.
“You take her first,” the man with the switchblade says, gesturing at the first man. “You were the one who got the dumb bitch in here.”
He smirks. “With pleasure.” He twists his hand further into Star’s hair and pushes her forwards.
She kicks and screams and scratches at his arms, but she knows no one can hear her. No one can save her. It’s just her with no chance to say goodbye.
The man bends her over the sink and lets go of her hair, only to grab her hands and roughly zip tie them behind her back. “You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he hisses into her ear.
What’s that supposed to mean? Star stares down at the sink, still trying to kick her legs to get the man off of her.
“Stop fucking moving,” the man with the switchblade says, grabbing a fistful of Star’s hair and yanking her head back, forcing her to look at herself in the mirror.
Star sees her long brown hair pulled into a ponytail, she sees her green eyes full of pain and fear, she sees her pale skin underneath the bathroom lighting with her hands tied behind her back and she sees her face bloody and bruised and broken. She sees the man behind her run his hands down her back because she doesn’t want to feel it.
Star goes still. “How are you going to take me back without people seeing?” she asks.
“Take you back?” The man with the switchblade laughs and presses the knife to her neck. “Oh, you dumb bitch. You’re not going anywhere.”
“What do you–”
Star is cut off when the first man hooks his fingers in the waistband of her jeans and slowly starts pulling them down.
Aren’t you lucky to be here, 501? Not down the hall with the Romantics?
The pieces click together as soon as the man has pulled Star’s jeans and underwear all the way down. “I’m not a–” She can’t think, she can’t process what’s happening. “I’m not trained for this, Sir.”
“You don’t need to be trained,” the man hisses. “You just need to stay right there and don’t fucking scream.”
Star’s eyes dart to the side, panic clouding her brain, her breath coming in quick pants. This can't be real, this can’t be happening, she doesn’t know what to do, how to react.
The man with the switchblade digs the knife into her throat, drawing a bead of blood and sharp pain with it. “Look at yourself. Go on. Watch yourself.”
Star looks at the mirror, her heart shattering as she sees her eyes. No longer human and brave and defiant and everything she liked about herself, everything she had gotten back from WRU. Just afraid.
The man runs a finger across her slit, and Star whimpers, sick to her stomach and disgusted with herself. “I’ll go back,” she whispers. “I don’t want this.”
The man hushes her. “You don’t need to talk. Just take it, bitch.”
The other two men walk to stand by the door, both staring at Star, staring between her legs at what’s now bared to them.
Star can’t close her eyes, can’t look away. She can’t do this. Greco might have drugged her and beat her and broke her down but he never did this to her. She’s never had sex before, not even in her false memories. She doesn’t even want to have sex. “Please,” she whispers at her reflection.
Her reflection doesn’t answer.
“Going to prep her?” one of the men asks.
“Nope.”
Star feels something press against her entrance. She’s dry and scared and she doesn’t want this, please, she doesn’t want this. She twists around, trying to free herself.
The man with the switchblade tightens his grip on her hair and presses the knife further into Star’s throat. “Keep moving and you’ll bleed out.”
She doesn’t want to have sex with this man. She doesn’t want to die like this, she wants to die in the hospital like she’s supposed to in a few years.
She stays still and hates herself for it.
“She’s nervous,” the man with the switchblade says, smirking. “I don’t think she’s done this before.”
“Good. She’ll be tight.”
Tight? What does that mean…oh. Oh. No, absolutely not, she can’t, she doesn’t want this, she can’t even think about it.
There’s no fighting this, no way out.
So Star screams, hoping someone, anyone will hear her and come in and save her from this…this thing that Star can’t name, even if it’s just having sex.
Greco had protected her from this for so long.
Maybe it’s not a good thing that she left him, because now…this can happen. Without Greco, she has to have sex.
Her scream is short-lived by the man with the switchblade putting his hand over her mouth and snapping, “Hand me her panties.”
There’s a brief rustle of movement before she sees her gray underwear being passed to the man with the switchblade. He pries her mouth open and shoves the fabric in there. “Finally. Now you can fuck her.”
Star chokes on her underwear, her eyes filling with tears. No. She can’t cry, it has to be fine, it’s just sex, right?
“Hold her head up,” the man behind her says. “I want her to watch herself get used.”
Get used? Maybe that’s what this is. She’s getting used. There’s not a difference between that and sex.
The man with the switchblade yanks Star’s head back up, and she’s forced to confront her dead green eyes again, the underwear distorting her face and making her look disgusting. Worthless. Like a piece of shit, useless bitch who deserves to die.
Maybe it’s a good thing she’s gagged so Cas doesn’t have to see the worthless mutt he rescued being…used like this.
She holds her gaze at her reflection and her reflection stares back as she hears a bottle cap opening and a clumsy hand spreading something gelatinous and cold across her vagina. “Don’t want her to tear, knowing the three of you are going after me?”
There’s *more?*
The man with the switchblade grabs at Star’s thin black t-shirt, and with one strong pull, he rips it off of her and slices her bra off with his knife.
She’s naked and she hates this so much and Handler Greco was supposed to keep her safe from this.
It’s what she gets for leaving him behind.
“Perfect tits.” The man behind her runs the back of his hand down her back, stopping at her bound wrists. “Let me show you how a real man fucks a whore, gentlemen.”
A whore. That’s the word she was looking for, the word to describe what she really is. She’s a whore.
“Gonna fill this useless bitch up with my cock.” The man thrusts in.
More of Star’s hope vanishes.
He pulls out. Thrusts in again.
Any light left in Star’s eyes is gone.
He pulls out again. Thrusts in again.
Star, the whore mutt, doesn’t want to be here anymore.
Pulls out, thrusts in, over and over and over.
All Star can do is look at her bruised, bloody, pathetic face in the mirror and hold back her tears and watch herself shatter. She should have stayed with Handler Greco. She should have done something different.
But instead she takes a stranger’s cock like a good whore with her underwear in her mouth and she’s breaking. The reflection in the mirror moans around the gag. The reflection’s cheeks are streaked with tears, the reflection’s body rocks with each thrust. The reflection reacts, moves like a good pet.
But Star is so far gone.
#wawangstpril#no.12#noncon tw#nsfwhump#minors dni#lady whump#bbu#box boy universe#pet whump#derogatory language#degradation tw#dehumanisation tw#cassiel belanger#star belanger#cas/star au#blue's words
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5 minutes with Bucky
You’d been pinned down behind a crumbling wall for most of the fighting, unable to even attempt to pick off any of the enemy. The sniper covering you was unbelievable.
“Have you been hit?” Sam’s panicked voice came through your earpiece, and you shook your head before realizing he couldn’t see you.
“The sniper is up on the east tower is unrelenting. I can’t move. They even shot my boot,” you complained. “I need you to take them out. You know, in your spare time.”
Sam’s cackle reassured you. “Let me see if Redwing can take them out.” A few seconds later, the unmistakable sound of the drone exploding made your shoulders tense, and then release in defeat.
“I’m on it,” Bucky growled. Bucky was no fan of yours. He treated you like he found you a burden to the team, and was always short with you. You’d say he was cranky about you, but cranky was a description you reserved for toddlers. Your dislike for one another was mutual.
“Don’t put yourself out. I know I’m just deadweight to you, Barnes,” you growled back.
“Easier to get you to walk out than carry out your sorry ass,” he snarled. There was a grunt, and thud and the distinct rapport of his gun. “Sniper is dead. The sooner you contribute to this clusterfuck, the sooner we can leave.”
You scrabbled up to your knees and peered over the wall, and thankfully, no shots came from the east tower. You dashed between obstacles, keeping hidden, until you were back to the main action, and quickly picked off a few goons. You heard the enemy trying to sneak up on you, but weren’t fast enough to stop the blade that slipped into your back with enough force to prevent you from crying out. Thankfully, your instinct wasn’t to collapse, but shoot the bastard. He slumped at your feet behind you, pulling the blade from your back as he fell. Your tac jacket was tight enough that it compressed the wound, and you fought on until you were able to escape back to the extraction point.
XXX
When the helicopter arrived, you pushed yourself off the tree you were leaning against and dropped heavily onto the floor of the vehicle, grimacing.
“Get us out of here, Sam,” you groaned.
“Hard day’s work, princess?” Bucky rolled his eyes. You flipped him the finger and closed your eyes, trying to think about anything other than the pain in your back.
XXX
“Go hit the showers,” Sam suggested when you landed. You nodded and pushed yourself to your feet, stumbling across the helipad toward door to the stairs. You faltered a little on the top stair, but made your way down to your floor and into your room before you peeled off your uniform and headed toward the shower. You stunk, the mixed fragrance of sweat, blood and whatever chemicals had been in the plant clinging to your skin.
You turned the shower on and stepped in, the heat making you dizzy. You slid down the wall, leaving a trail of blood behind you, and closed your eyes. Just a quick nap in the warmth of the shower, and you would feel tip-top again.
XXX
Bucky squinted in the mark on the floor inside the helicopter. There was a dark stain where you’d been laying. He reached down with his bare hand and rubbed his fingers across the sticky fluid, holding it up to his face. It smelled metallic. It only took a split second to realize it was blood. Your blood.
“Sam! She somehow got hit!” He took off at a run, skipping three and four stairs at a time as he vaulted down to your floor. Using his left side, he smashed through your door. He only paused long enough to hear the shower running, and notice the absence of your usual offkey singing before dashing toward the bathroom.
He pushed into the shower stall and found you. Your blood pooled around the drain, mixing with the water and you were pale. You looked so close to death, he didn’t even notice your nudity, scooping you up in his arms.
You roused just for a moment. “Bucky?”
“Why didn’t you say you’d been hit?” He growled, looking in the mirror to figure out where the blood was coming from. He pressed a towel against the wound and carried you out of your rooms, heading in the direction of the infirmary.
“Buck, I’m naked,” you mumbled.
“Yeah?”
“Why aren’t you? I bet you look amazing. All those muscles. Your abs especially. You should be naked if I’m naked. It’s only fair.” You were rambling. Bucky’s heart jerked, panicking. Rambling was bad.
“Sweetheart, you’re injured.” His voice vibrated against your chest and you leaned into him.
“Just be gentle then,” you murmured before losing consciousness completely.
XXX
It was overwhelmingly bright, making you think maybe you were dead and in some cosmic waiting room. You opened one eye, and squinted against the brightness. You tried to reach up to rub your face, and got caught on something, a sharp quick pain to your hand making you flinch.
“Ow, fuck.”
“You gave us a scare, kid.” Sam’s voice was smooth and soothing.
“I got stabbed.”
“I know,” he laughed. “Hold tight, I’m gonna go get Bucky.”
“Why?”
“Dude is over 100, and you scared another twenty years off him,” Sam laughed. “He’ll want to know you’re awake.”
You opened your eyes and took in the infirmary room. You found the controls on the bed and raised your head, squirming up a little so you weren’t so uncomfortable. You hadn’t noticed Sam leave until Bucky dashed in.
When he saw you sitting up, he stopped and walked the rest of the way to the bedside slowly. He dropped into the seat Sam had vacated and stared you down.
“You should have told us.” His opening was on point.
“As if you care.” There was a cup full of ice chips on your overbed table, and you took a mouthful
“You’re a goddamn idiot, you know that?” he snapped. You choked on your ice, and he jumped up, leaning you forward to pound on your back. You pulled out of his hold, still coughing and threw the cup at him.
“Jesus, Barnes, if you hate me so fucking much, why are you even here?” You pushed him away and he fell back into the chair, looking surprised and hurt.
“Who said I hate you?” He asked, his voice quiet, and for the first time probably ever, gentle.
“Every goddamn mission we go on, you treat me like I’m deadweight that you have to babysit. You’ve made it abundantly clear that you can’t stand me. What I can’t figure out is if it’s because I’m a woman, and you’re some oldtimey gentleman misogynist or if it’s something about me specifically,” you snapped. “You should leave, Barnes. I’m tired.”
Bucky shook his head and leaned forward. “I’m only going to say this once, so make sure you’re listening, princess.”
You closed your eyes, for some reason wanting to cry. “I don’t hate you. You take unnecessary risks in order to prove yourself when you really have nothing to prove, and that scares me. You’re more frustrating than Stevie was. You do crazy shit, and suddenly I can’t breathe because I think you’re going to die.”
You opened your eyes, narrowing them as he spoke.
“And maybe I am a backward old man? I don’t think I am? Nat’s probably the best assassin I’ve ever seen, and she’s a woman. And the Dora, the Dora are the best military unit in the world hands down. I think it’s just you. You bring it out in me -”
“I bring out your World War Two sexist dames are just for keeping at home shit?” You interrupted. Bucky laughed.
“No, princess, you don’t get it. I want to protect you. I want to make sure you come home,” he sighed.
“Why?”
“So that maybe someday I can tell you how much you mean to me,” he blurted out.
“And why would you tell me now?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.
“When I carried you here, you told me you wanted to see me naked. I figure, no one wants to see someone they hate naked, so maybe you have some complicated feelings too,” he shrugged. A single tear rolled down your cheek, and he reached over to wipe it away. “I was scared you might die. And I’d never told you. And you’re the first dame- first woman I’ve felt like this about since I can’t remember when, and -”
“Do you think there’s enough room in this bed for you to climb in?” you interrupted. He dropped his sweatshirt on the chair and kicked off his shoes. You wiggled a little trying to make space for you. He slid in beside you and tucked his arm up behind your neck, allowing you to curl into him.
“We’re idiots, Buck,” you murmured, laying a hand on his chest. He grasped the hand in his and brought it to his mouth, gently kissing your palm.
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