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#i had to stop myself from laughing when he was scolding me
princessviana · 2 days
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Inkbound
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CHAPTER 2
Pairings:
Yandere Taehyung x OC × Yandere Jungkook
Warning: This story is a work of fanfiction and is purely a product of the author's imagination. It does not depict any real-life events or individuals. While some characters may be inspired by real-life idols, their portrayal in this story is fictional and not representative of their true selves. Please note that this story may contain triggering content, including themes of abuse, gore, murder, humiliation, bullying, rape, and other mature and dark themes. Reader discretion is advised, especially for those under the age of 18. If you are uncomfortable with such content, it is recommended to refrain from reading and kindly disregard this story.
Fae's pov.
Where on earth am I and how the hell did I end up here?! This questions has been repeating in my mind for what feels like the hundredth time. I find myself lost in a seemingly endless maze of hallways, each one identical to the last, lined with countless doors. I've been wandering for hours, yet I'm no closer to finding the exit. My sense of freedom feels as elusive as ever.
I really want to see my family.
Suddenly, I overhear a group of maids conversing in hushed, panicked tones. The name "Yana" floats through the air, causing me to pause.
Yana?
Earlier, I heard the name Jungkook, and now Yana? These names sound eerily familiar, like the characters from a book I once read. But I shake the thought away. I need to focus on finding a way out of here.
As the sound of quick, hurried footsteps echo through the hallway, I panic and bolt towards the nearest door. Thankfully, it's unlocked. I slip inside and slam the door shut behind me, breathing a sigh of relief as the footsteps recede into the distance.
Suddenly, a deep, familiar voice breaks the silence, "What are you doing here?"
I flinched and whirl around in fear and find myself face-to-face with him.Again.
"You!" I exclaim, my eyes locking with the handsome, yet intimidating man I had encountered earlier in the hallway. He's lounging on a king-sized bed, dressed in a black robe that reveals a hint of his chest as he leans back casually.
I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. It's not the first time I've seen a man dressed in such a way, but something about him makes my skin tingle with heat. I quickly shake the thought away, reminding myself that I need to focus on escaping, not drooling on the man in front of me.
"I asked you a question, didn't I, Yana?" His voice, deep and alluring, pulls me back from my thoughts.
"I–um actually–I," I stutter badly and I don't know why I am being like this.I mentally scolded myself for my lack of composure.
"I WHAT? CAN YOU STOP STUTTERING!?" He suddenly shouts, causing me to flinch, he suddenly stood up and in an instant, he's standing before me. I attempt to open the door to escape, but he slams it shut again, causing me to squeak in surprise.
"Please – I was just looking for the exit," I manage to whisper, my gaze falling to the floor.
Silence fills the room before he finally speaks, "Are you fucking kidding me?" His harsh words cause me to flinch and I close my eyes in fear. I miss my brother, Jae. This man is terrifying.
"C–can you just let me go! I really want to go!" I summon the courage to shout at him, immediately regretting it when I see the murderous look in his eyes and I swear I see his eyes turned even more darker.
"Did you just fucking yell at me?" He asks quietly, his deep voice sending chills down my spine. He grasps my arms tightly, causing me to hiss in pain. I try to push him away as I put my hands in his chest as I attempted to get some distance from him, tears welling up in my eyes from the pain of his tight grip.
"Mister! You're hurting me!" I cry out in distress, tears now streaming down my cheeks. He looks at me blankly, seemingly uncaring of my pain.
He finally releases his grip, scoffing, "Mister, huh?" He laughs, a dark, chilling sound that sends a shiver down my spine. I quickly distance myself from him, confusion and fear swirling within me.
'What's wrong with him?Does he have anger issues or something?'
"Where did Honey go?" He asks suddenly that made me look at him again, his voice cold and detached.
I frowned at that before sighing in frustration.
'What in the world was he talking about?'
"You're not my lover to be called like that!" I shout back, taken aback by his question.
...
We suddenly fall into an awkward silence and I don't know if I said something bad or what,as he just look at me blankly and it's really uncomfortable as he only stared at me blankly.
"Get out," he finally orders, walking away from the door and disappearing into what I assume is his bathroom. I seize the opportunity to escape the room,away from this crazy man, once again finding myself lost in the maze of hallways.
~
Author's perspective
As the man hears the slam of his bedroom door, he sighs, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He frowns, thinking back to the interaction with the woman. Shaking his head, he chuckles quietly to himself, unties his bathrobe, and steps into his bathtub. His mind is still consumed by the thoughts of her.
"What's happening with you again?" He murmurs to himself, closing his eyes.
Minutes pass, but he finds himself growing increasingly agitated. He recalls her shouting at him for the first time. Despite the times he had hurt or yelled at her, she had never once raised her voice at him. This sudden change in her behavior leaves him feeling restless, a feeling he doesn't particularly enjoy.
"God damn it! Get it out of your head! It's just a yell and it made you restless!" He scolds himself, gritting his teeth.
Why is he so affected by a simple change in a woman's attitude?
No, he convinces himself, it's just because he's not used to it. He groans, running his fingers through his wet hair.
Meanwhile, Fae finally breathes a sigh of relief when she spots a staircase leading down to what she assumes is a living room. She can't help but giggle in joy, relief washing over her. She's finally found a way out of this strange house.
Just as she's about to descend the stairs, she overhears a conversation that stops her in her tracks. She turns to see the same man from earlier, the one who had nearly choked her, talking to a girl she doesn't recognize.
"Nara, please stay. She won't hurt you anymore, I promise, okay?"
'Nara? Again? Another name from the book?!'
"But, Jungkook, I'm scared. What if she will hurt–" The girl's words trail off as her gaze lands on Fae, who is standing on the stairs. The girl gasps and hides behind Jungkook.
Jungkook follows her gaze and locks eyes with Fae, who is frozen on the stairs. Fae breaks their gaze and continues her descent, heading towards the front door, completely ignoring them.
Jungkook frowns, watching as Fae disappears outside through the door.This behavior is unusual for her. She would normally become furious if she caught him talking to Nara. This change leaves him feeling perplexed but shrugged it off as he again face the scared woman and embrace her.
...
Meanwhile, Fae continued her sprint towards what she perceived as freedom. The sight of the magnificent golden gates filled her with delight, and a joyous laugh escaped from her lips as she relished the feeling of liberation. Finally, she thought, running at full speed towards the gates.
But just as she was about to touch the gates, she found herself being lifted off her feet, swept into the air that made her shout suddenly in startlement,panic surged within her as she closed her eyes and silently pleaded for the person to let her go, her body tense. Strong arms was wrapped around her waist, setting her back on her feet, away from the gates.Turning her head and glaring at the man responsible for stopping her, she got awestruck suddenly when she sees a handsome man closed to her and it suddenly vanished her anger as the man grinned at her with such a beautiful smile.
"Can we talk, Yana?" he asked suddenly that made her snap out of her staring to the man, his words now causing her to frown as she came to a standstill, halting her resistance.
'what did he call me?'
"I'm not Yana!" she retorted forcefully, watching as he blinked a couple of times before mumbling something under his breath.
"So, they were telling the truth," he muttered, causing her to question what he meant, while still trying to free herself from his grasp.
"Let's go. I know Uncle is looking for you," he said, his tone turning cold as he dragged her towards the mansion once again, her protests falling on deaf ears.
Reluctantly, Fae allowed herself to be pulled along, feeling the weight of resignation settle upon her.
Then the next she found herself in a living room surrounded by eight unknown people, their glaring eyes making her feel small and insignificant.
Intimidated, she lowered her gaze, avoiding their piercing stares.
"Yana."
Then, a raspy voice rang out, calling the name Yana again. Fae again looked up, her brows furrowing as she met the gaze of the man who had spoken.
"Are you calling me Yana?" she asked, her fear and confusion evident.
'Yana? Why are they calling me that? Wait – no! That's absurd! Realization dawned on her suddenly, bringing with it a wave of absurdity that was difficult for her to comprehend.
Jungkook, then Nara, and now Yana?
This couldn't be a coincidence any longer. Fae's mind swirled with fear, unable to fully grasp the unfolding events.
No, this is absurd! she thought to herself, fear gripping her as she struggled to make sense of the situation.
"Who else here goes by the name Yana?" a deep mocking voice interrupted her thoughts, prompting her to look at the man who suddenly speaks.
' him again?'
Wait! If Jungkook was the man to the left, then who was this other man? A sudden chill ran down her spine as she hastily scrambled away from him, retreating until her back was pressed against the far end of the plush couch. The man looked at her, his expression one of confusion, mirroring the baffled looks of everyone else in the room.
"Yana, I've been informed about your recent actions. Is it true?" The older man who had addressed her earlier, presumably in his 50s, asked again, his eyes filled with concern.
"What do you mean by that?" Fae questioned, her tone laced with distress, which only seemed to annoy the man.
A scoff from the left drew her attention back to Jungkook, who was glaring at her, leaning back in his chair with his arms and legs crossed. "What's your problem, huh?" Fae retorted, her irritation evident in her voice. This caused a ripple of shock to spread through the room, especially amongst the two younger men.
'What's with them? Is this the first time they've heard a woman speak up? Because right now, I'm guessing it is.' Fae thought, rolling her eyes at them before returning her glare to Jungkook, who was now clenching his jaw and glaring back even more intensely. Their staring contest was interrupted when the older man cleared his throat, effectively drawing everyone's attention.
"Yana, this is the last time I will tolerate your reckless behavior! I'll let it slide this time!" He declared, standing up and swiftly exiting the room, followed by two other men. This left only six of them in the room: herself, the two men she had met earlier, and the man who had dragged her here.
"What's going on with you, Yana? Is this another—" The man who had brought her here attempted to break the silence, only to be cut off by a single glare from her.
"Don't call me that!" Fae yelled furiously, standing up as she was overcome with confusion and frustration. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and unable to hold them back any longer, she broke down crying in front of the five men.
"Hey! What did you do to noona!?" Suddenly, a young boy burst into the living room upon hearing the sound of a girl crying. He was met with the sight of Fae in tears, while the men could only exchange helpless looks, unsure of what to do next.
Taehyung, on the other hand, scoffed in disbelief, assuming that this was just another one of her tactics to gain sympathy. He stood up and left the room, followed by Jungkook, leaving the girl crying on the couch. Everyone else also departed, except for the young boy who hugged the weeping woman tightly, their minds filled with the assumption that she, whom they believed to be Yana, was once again trying to manipulate them into pitying her and taking her side.
As minutes passed, Fae gradually calmed down, thanks to the comforting presence of the boy who refused to let go of her. She lifted her head to look at him, and he offered her a white towel to wipe away her tears. Gratefully, she accepted it and smiled at the boy with all her heart.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, noona. But why were you crying again?" the boy innocently asked, tilting his head in confusion. Fae sighed and shook her head, unsure of how to explain that she felt like she was trapped in a story or perhaps even a dream. She hoped desperately that she would wake up from this ordeal soon, as being here felt like being in a living hell. She could sense the pain and sadness that consumed the person she assumed was Yana,that she was in, both physically and mentally.
"What's your name, little guy?" Fae asked, diverting the conversation.
The boy looked at her with surprise but answered, "I'm Kim Taehoon, noona. Do you really not remember us?"
Fae's breath caught in her throat.
'Kim Taehyung's little brother... So, I really am in a book?!' she thought, still in shock at what was happening. She sighed and nodded her head.
'If I'm really here, then I am Yana?'
"What's my name again?" Fae asked, seeking confirmation.
"You're Yana," Taehoon answered, grinning at her.
'Oh God! Wait... If I was her, then I can finally change that woman's fate!' Fae suddenly stood up, a plan brewing in her mind. She smiled widely and laughed to herself, leaving Taehoon wide-eyed as he watched her grinning at something in the distance, which turned out to be a large vase of flowers.
"What's so funny about those flowers?" Taehoon scratched his head, perplexed, before looking back at Fae, who was still lost in her thoughts, staring at the vase with a grin.
Meanwhile, Fae was busy planning her stay in this dream, if that's indeed what it was. She was still waiting to wake up, aware of the danger that lurked within the pages of this book, especially with those two individuals. She looked down at the boy again and sat down, holding Taehoon's little hands in hers. Taehoon smiled sweetly at her.
'Kim Taehoon, the child character of the book. He was accidentally shot by Yana when she and Nara were fighting in this very living room. Yana accidentally fired the gun, and poor Taehoon got caught in the crossfire. But this time, I promise you'll live. But first, I need to know what this girl did to end up in this state again.'
"Can I ask you something, Taehoon?" Fae spoke softly, and Taehoon nodded.
"Um, you see, I'm still experiencing memory loss or something. Can you tell me what I did before I... you know, before I had this memory loss?"
Taehoon looked away for a moment before clearing his throat, ready to share what she needed to know.
"The whole family except your father,attended a party celebration. While we were there, you followed Nara noona to the restroom upstairs. We heard you arguing, and then we saw you both pulling each other's hair. You tripped and fell down the stairs, but luckily, the stairs weren't very high."
Taehoon's voice carried a hint of sadness.
'So, the party was organized by the Parks. This is the event that leads to her downfall, where she gets framed by Nara. That b*tch... Let's see who becomes the villain now,'Fae thought, internally smirking as she stood up.
"You should go, Taehoon. Your tutor will be here soon—"
Just as she was about to finish her sentence, the door swung open, and a tall, well-built man in a white polo shirt and black pants entered, wearing glasses. Fae found herself drooling over this angelic figure, and the man smiled as his eyes landed on the two of them, revealing his dimples. Fae internally squealed in delight.
Kim Namjoon.
Fae smirked, recognizing the character from the dimples on his handsome face.
'Kim Namjoon, Kim Taehoon's genius tutor. He's secretly in love with Yana, but she chases after the wrong guys, those two psychos. Why chase after them when there's someone better? This man has been silently loving Yana and helping her whenever she's in need. When she discovered his love for her, she used it for her own gain, dragging him down along with Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook, and the four other men to kill her in the end.'
"Long time no see, beautiful," Namjoon greeted her with a compliment, his deep voice making her blush. He relished in the sight of her blushing, feeling complete as the beautiful woman before him reacted to his words,for the first time.
"Nice to see you too, Joonie," Fae smirked, using the nickname she had given him when she was reading the book. Namjoon widened his eyes in shock, blushing even more than she did. He couldn't believe that the woman he had secretly loved had given him a nickname.
'Kim Namjoon, nice to finally meet you,' Fae thought, her smirk growing wider.
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snwusberry · 15 hours
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untitled#2
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pairing: dad!seonghwa x mom!reader (black reader)
genre: fluff
warning(s): the word daddy is used but not for those reasons.
wc: 1.3k
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reader's pov
i sit to the side watching thing one and thing two go at it with the cookie dough. no, they're not kneeding it or anything like that, they are busy tearing that shit up, smacking on it trying to make it look like they're 'rolling' it. at that time they think i haven't noticed yet. i have! like father like daughter for real.
"at this point we won't have any cookie dough left to make these cookies for the bake sale." i say more to myself but loud enough for tweedledum and tweedledee to hear.
byeol's school organizes a bake sale for every grade as a fundraiser and it's the 2nd grader's turn tomorrow so we're busy making all the treats were going to sell at our stall and since they're literal babies, the parents need to be there so seonghwa and i both took an off day to be there for the bake sale. we spent the last 2 days making decorations for said stall and i still have glitter in my hair from when byeol got distracted and turned seonghwa and i into "fairies".
"right... byeol i told you to stop eating the cookie dough." seonghwa fake scolds the little girl who's mouth hangs open at the pure betrayal.
these two are like two peas in a pod. a truly unbreakable pair but lord are they a mess.
when seonghwa and i found out we were having a girl we were over the moon. he's always wanted a daughter so imagine his joy. me? i was just happy to be there, boy or girl i would've been happy with either.
he treats her like a precious, rare stone and spoils her rotten but don't let that fool you, she's still an extremely humble and well mannered girl.
"but daddy, it was you who kept eating!" she whines, defending herself looking absolutely adorable with her two missing front teeth.
i smile at the two of them and seonghwa starts rolling the dough looking mighty fine, might i add. his hair is pushed back with a squiggly headband and to top his whole outfit off he's wearing the frilly apron that my mother made for me as a housewarming gift.
the oven dings and byeol jumps to hand me the oven mitts. "thank you dear."
"you're welcome mommy." she smiles which is really contagious and makes me smile too. i get the cupcakes out of the oven and the little girl jumps up and down excitedly.
"be careful love, they're still hot." seonghwa warns her and she nods and takes a step back before jumping again. "what else is left?" seonghwa asks, cutting the dough into little heart shapes.
"icing for the cake pops."
"can i have one mommy?"
"you had way too much sugar today princess, it's 8pm now."
"mmh and you should be sleeping." seonghwa adds but the little girl pouts.
"how am i supposed to sleep when the house smells like candy wonderland?" her squeaky little voice gets louder at her question which makes seonghwa and i laugh.
"but you need to sleep now so you have enough energy for the bake sale tomorrow. then you'll have all the sugary stuff you want." seonghwa whispers amd her eyes light up and she runs to her room and again, we laugh at her little actions.
"let's go put her to bed." i say to seonghwa and i switch off the stove so we can follow the little girl to her room. she's already bathed and in her pj's, bonnet on and everything, so i don't have to worry about that.
we walk into the room and see her already in bed and seonghwa shakes his head.
"what happened to brushing your teeth princess?" he questions and she springs out of bed and runs to the bathroom to brush her teeth and seonghwa smiles shaking his head at her antics. "she's still on a sugar rush. she's not falling asleep anytime soon."
"mmh, 'come lick the spoon princess, here's a cookie, help me roll the dough.' sound familiar?" i recite his own words to him and he raises his hands in surrender. that's what i thought.
"she gave me those eyes." he tries to defend himself and honestly, i get it. it's almost impossible to say no to her when she starts looking all 'sad'.
sad in quotations because, let's be real, she knows what she's doing.
"learn to say no."
"have you?" he questions in an accusatory tone and i accept defeat. granted, i can say no to her, it's just difficult to. seonghwa on the other hand?
i'm saying all of this, he's really good with parenting and discipline, it's just those moments, like these, when he's like, 'fuck it, let her have some of this and that and this too maybe.' she's a kid, let her enjoy.
she comes running back into the room and i look at my husband who's shooting me a look too. there's no way she's falling asleep now.
"maybe we should let her run it off a bit before bed?" i suggest to him and he sighs with a nod and byeol looks between us confused. seonghwa nods and we turn to the little girl.
"what's with you two?" she asks us and i smile down at her.
"byeol, i think we should run before your father catches us." i tell her with a fake tone of fear and she smiles widely. she loves this.
"let's go mommy." she grabs my hand and gets out of bed so we can start running with seonghwa chasing behind us talking about some, 'don't let me catch you'.
the house is filled with her laughter and little shrieks everytime she turns back and seonghwa is near. when she starts slowing down that's when we know she's done for the day.
"okay my baby, let's get you to bed, yes?" seonghwa says, picking her up but her stubborn ass protests.
"but i'm not tired yet." she yawns literally as she says that.
"case closed. let's go."
we both go to her room and seonghwa lays her on her bed, letting her go under the covers. it's routine for both of us to tuck her in whenever we can otherwise she'll be restless.
"what do you want tonight, story or song?" i ask her and she pretends to think for a bit. she usually prefers a song so she's most likely gonna choose that.
"song! but mommy please don't sing this time?" she tells me, blocking her ears and i gasp. excuse me kid??
"i'll have you know, i was very blessed with some killer vocals. you just don't get it." both of them give me the same unimpressed look. literally the same, she's a photocopy of her father. i honestly feel like it's unfair but that's a story for another day. "okay let's have daddy sing, i know who your favorite is."
"you're both my favorites!" she yells, pulling us both to her and we laugh and wrap her into a group hug.
"okay my angel, let me sing you a song okay?" seonghwa says and she nods, laying down completely and hw starts singing. i start patting her as his voice soothes her to sleep and i smile, feeling completely content in this moment. it's just me, my husband and my daughter and there's nothing and no one else that exists to me.
we hear a little snore and that's our confirmation that she's sound asleep. she really doesn't take time. we take turns giving her a kiss on the cheek before quietly exiting the room and going back to the kitchen to finish baking.
"baby?" seonghwa calls me and i hum. "don't you want another?" he asks and looks up from the pot and i glare at him, pointing a roller pin at him.
i can tell he's joking by his tone because he knows good and well that neither of us want another. in this economy? absolutely not.
"point taken."
we laugh and we continue baking for this bake sale we're both dreading.
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norrizzandpia · 5 months
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you’re my absolute favourite lando fanfic writer, i get so excited whenever you post. can you do some sort of fake dating x enemies to lovers with lando & some angst & grovelling please? i leave the rest up to you, i can’t wait to see what you come up with<3
THIS IS THE BEST MIX OF TROPES I HAVE EVER SEEN I LOVE YOU FOR THIS also thank you so much for saying I’m your fav lando writer I’m blushing ☺️
You Were Never What I Wanted, (LN4)
Summary: Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?
Warnings: language, sexual discussions, very mild smut, lando and yn yearning, yn calling lando a man whore not affectionately, talks of death, a crash, she’s long so grab popcorn, omfg this one hurts
Note: i love a good fake dating y’all don’t GET. IT. Also i added the reformed playboy trope to this to spice things up! It’s very mildly mentioned tho UPDATE: PART 2 POSTED!
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Lando screeches, body flying from his chair beside Y/n.
Charlotte smiles tightly at him, nodding slowly and putting her hands up, “Lando, yes. You know this is the only way to clean up the reputation you two have developed together.”
He groans, turning to pace the room when Zak interrupts, “Lando, be a fucking man and clean up the mess you’ve made.”
He turns quickly, eyes bulging as he yells, “It wasn’t fucking me! It was her!” He turns to look at Y/n, bewildered look in his eyes as he points furiously at her, “It was you! You got us into this mess! You clean it up!”
Y/n rolls her eyes at him and he almost loses his head, “You’re just as at fault, Lando. You’re the one that openly criticized my driving in a room full of reporters and cameras!”
“I was asked a fucking question, Y/n. It was my job to answer it honestly.” He shoots back.
She scoffs, “Are you fucking psychotic? Or just that fucking stupid? Our job is to lie to the press, that’s what it’s always been. Don’t fucking change it when it’s convenient for you.”
Lando’s hands claw at his eyes as they continue to bicker, “The only person who’s stupid here is you.”
“I was standing up for myself!”
“Oh, yeah?! Now, look where that’s gotten us! A fucking PR stunt!”
“Get over yourself, Lando! You’re just as at fault!”
“You’re so fucking annoying, Y/n! Can’t take any fucking accountabil-”
“Oh, please, you’re one to ta-”
“OKAY!” Charlotte claps her hands as she stops the two drivers. The image before her is one she never thought she’d see this season. Lando Norris, a McLaren driver and well known playboy, getting mad he had to kiss one of the most beautiful women to grace the sport of Formula 1, fellow driver on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n. She surely would’ve chuckled if Lando’s eyes weren’t alive with an angry fire she needed to diffuse immediately.
“You two need to just realize that whose fault this was doesn’t matter. What you need to focus on is pretending you’re in love, so the media stops breathing down McLaren’s and Red Bull’s necks. This is the only way we can make all this bad press go away.” She explains, hands moving rapidly in front of her as she tries to calm the two down.
Y/n, the more rational one, nods, accepting her fate with grace. Lando, on the other hand, stomps his foot on the ground and mutters a sentence of agreement before storming out of the room.
Y/n laughs, turning to Zak and Charlotte, the papaya employees looking as if five years had just been taken off their lives, “I don’t know how you put up with him. He’s so fucking childish.”
Charlotte, media trained, smiles, “He’s better when he isn’t angry.”
Zak, not media trained, nods, “Y/n, I’ve never agreed with you more.”
The man and woman share a look, a subtle scolding glint in Charlotte’s eye as she stares at Zak. He backs down, earning a giggle from Y/n as she begins to leave the room.
“You’ll send the NDAs and other contracts over to Red Bull, right? I’d like to get this started and over with as soon as possible.” Y/n smiles, a soft one that makes others feel warm inside.
Charlotte nods, “Of course. Consider it done.”
Y/n, keeping her smile and composure, withdraws from the room, the door closing with a loud click.
Zak and Charlotte are left to sink down into the chairs behind them. Slugging, Zak’s head lulls to her side, “This is either the best idea we’ve ever had or the worst one.”
She laughs, “They either fall in love or hate each other more.”
“Okay, so,” Charlotte smiles at Lando and Y/n from her side of the SUV, the two on either side of the car, sitting as far away from the other as possible, “This is going to be a short outing.”
“Thank God.” Lando mumbles under his breath, earning a scowl from the girl beside him.
Charlotte huffs, continuing, “Just a coffee run. You’ll go into the cafe, holding hands, maybe a kiss or two, get your drinks, and then leave. Very quick. However, I need you two to give it your all. This will be the first time the public sees you as something more than enemies. It needs to be convincing. Heart eyes and maybe, if you’re comfortable, roaming hands.”
Lando’s head turns in utter disgust, “If you fucking think I’m going to touch her ass or some shit, you’ve absolutely lost it.”
Y/n’s body whips around, whole torso facing him as she stares him down, “Oh, please, Lando, you get no fucking women. You haven’t touched anybody’s ass, let alone a girl’s, in fucking ages.”
“Oh, yeah? Then, explain the girl that woke up in my bed this morning!” He fires back, head tilting in a challenging way.
Y/n shoves her arms across her chest as she sits back and whispers, loud enough for him and Charlotte to hear, “Man whore.”
Charlotte’s eyebrows lift slightly, exhaling a breath, “Well! This should be fun!”
The car comes to a stop in an alleyway, hidden from prying eyes. Charlotte lets the silence pass between the two for a few moments before leaning over and opening Lando’s door, “Well, get on with it! Chop chop! Don’t have all the time in the world.”
Lando slides out of the car, shaking his head and grumbling incoherently. Y/n follows him, however, when she gets her legs hanging out the door, she is reminded of just how high the car is off the ground. She goes to turn her body around, opting to slide slowly out on her stomach in avoidance of an accident, but, before she can get positioned, Lando grabs her hips and lifts her from the car, down onto the ground.
There’s a moment where she’s so taken aback, surprised, by the movement, all she can do is grip onto his biceps and stare down at her feet, safely on the pavement. It’s only when Charlotte starts yelling, “Yes! Yes, Lando! Just like that! Look at her like that!” That she looks up. What she finds is deep green eyes completely dilated and lost in the sight of her. She reminds herself of the hatred this man has for her, brushing off the way his hands squeeze over the flesh of her hips desperately, and removes herself from his hold.
Immediately, he comes to, the snarl replacing whatever emotion had taken over his face before. She trails down the dirty, smelly passageway, hearing Lando’s feet patter behind her.
It’s as if she’s achingly aware of his presence when he reaches her, just before they turn onto the public street, and takes her hand in his. The way his cologne wraps around her body, suffocating her in the most addicting way, and the feeling of his fingers fitting perfectly in the divots of hers, soft against her skin, has Y/n reeling. She goes along with his movements, relying on him to guide her as she travels to a place where Lando’s just the man she used to think he was; insanely hot and incredibly charming.
He pulls her back, however, when he opens the door for her and quietly says her name when she doesn’t walk through.
“Y/n?” His hand tugs against hers, smiling softly at the way she stares off into space. Whether that smile is genuine, although, Y/n has no clue.
She shakes her head, murmuring a thank you to him as she scurries past the threshold. When they both enter, their presence is immediately clocked by the other customers waiting for their orders. That’s what Y/n tells herself when Lando comes up behind her, arms around her waist as he rests his head on the top of hers.
“What do you want, baby? I’m paying.” He says, low enough for it to come across as a whisper, but loud enough for the girl in front of them to turn her head slightly in curiosity.
He’s surprisingly good at this, falling into the role demanded of him in a way that has Y/n faltering. She was expecting a man who was so distant from her, the same as her past partners, she had to beg for his attention. Yet, here she was getting showered in affection by a man she was convinced didn’t have the capacity for it.
Her response is easy, covering for the feelings arising within a certain part of herself she can’t quite name, “Just a cappuccino. Thanks, Lan.”
His grin is sweet as he lays a kiss on her temple. His hands rub over her hips as he detaches himself from her body and moves in front of her, teasingly pushing her away from the register with a light laugh.
Lando spews off the order to the man behind the counter as Y/n moves to the other side of the establishment, residing where the orders are dropped off. It could’ve been strategic, it probably was she promises herself, but Lando yells across the store to her.
“Y/n! Love, do you want food? They have your favorite here,” He smiles at her, earning a few giggles from fawning girls in the corner, “Croissants!”
Did he know croissants are actually her favorite or was that just a lucky guess?
Y/n gives him an airy chuckle, head falling back slightly in a lovesick way as she shakes her head, “Nah, I’m okay. Just gives us another opportunity to come back here.”
He nods at her, shaking his head at the barista and handing him some cash.
He tips the change, a hefty amount seemingly as Y/n watches the worker hesitate and thank Lando profusely. Her heart warms, shining on the inside as he treats hardworking people, those who are usually treated horrifically, with the utmost respect.
These reactions she’s having toward him are confusing, a far off nagging in her brain that she might’ve always wished for this type of attention specifically from him.
Nevertheless, she forces her mind to end its overwhelming thoughts when he waltzes over and sidles up next to her. She’s determined to keep this transactional, however she can.
She can’t get feelings.
She won’t get feelings.
And that was that, she decided.
“Lando!” Another worker calls out, setting down two drinks on the counter in front of them. Y/n goes to pick them up, however Lando beats her, giving her a cheeky grin as he mumbles, “You’re my girlfriend, Y/n. You don’t get the drinks, I do. Don’t be barbaric.”
She stands staring at him, mouth agape at his comment as the girls sitting behind them, somehow closer now, gasp.
Y/n hits his arm, the liquid jostling in his grip, “We weren’t supposed to say anything yet!”
He shrugs in return as he pushes the door open with the side of his body, and waits for her to walk through, “I guess I just couldn’t wait, baby. Too in love.”
She shakes her head at him, taking the drink from his hand, their digits brushing against the other’s in an electrifying way, “Down the toilet goes the soft launch plan.”
As they turn the corner, the smile he had been adoring her with suddenly vanishes and the usual pain that fills his expression when he’s around her returns.
“I’m just trying to get this over with, Y/n. Waiting a whole fucking month to tell some fans we’re together is so fucking stupid and I’m not doing it.” He bites out, a hostility to him she had forgotten in the ten minutes he had just treated her like she was his everything.
She drops the coffee on the ground as they grow closer to the car, shock at his quick change in attitude forcing her body to go numb. Lando stops when she does, both of them staring down at the leaking, steaming drink.
He dryly laughs at her, “How fucking stupid! Can’t even hold her own drink! No wonder you’re a shit driver!”
He gets in the car, shutting the door harshly and leaving her to internalize his criticisms.
For some reason, after getting a glimpse at what being loved by him feels like, his words hurt more, mean more.
What a dangerous game.
Lando is a known party animal. He’s in love with the blinding lights, loud music, and alcohol flowing without a care in the world what hangover he’d be graced with in the morning. However, with her here, it proves to be a much more stressful experience.
She’s glued to his side, not particularly the clubbing type, and Lando feels his heart quicken when other men bend their backs to see her walk away. A month into the arrangement they structured and he’s consistently feeling as if he’s fighting off every man that floats their way.
He’s worried someone will try to take advantage of her; he’s worried someone will spike her drink; he’s worried someone will touch her weirdly; he’s worried someone will bother her.
He’s worried about her.
A thought so pressing he forces it out of his mind, away from the impending cloudiness that accompanies a topic so big; the way he feels toward her.
The way it was explained to him, by the joint teams of McLaren PR and Red Bull PR, was that, for the first few weeks, their relationship outings would consist of soft dates, quick times spent out together grabbing takeout or a few pictures here and there on both their social medias that addressed their relationship status. Once they got past that time period, they would begin to see the public more often as a union. Long dinners, a handful of charity functions, a gala, and nights out clubbing riddled his calendar now.
Something he wasn’t too opposed to he was coming to find out.
That was the phase they were entering now; the hard launch. After his stunt in the coffee shop those four weeks ago, the teams had to regroup. The girls who had been hanging around had heard his slight confession of love, plastering it on the internet for every person to see.
The consequence? Lando didn’t get to be seen with Y/n for a week as the PR teams waited for the attention around the news to subside.
He wouldn’t risk that now.
Not when he was beginning to get used to the way her hand held his bicep as his fingers tangled in her other hand below.
“Lan?” She yells in his ear, their footsteps just now reaching the VIP section as the bodyguard lets them through.
He looks down at her, their faces centimeters away, lips centimeters away, and Lando’s scared.
Scared of the things he wants to do as her plump, pink lips sit right below his.
“Yeah?” His eyes avert to Max, his best friend, the boy giving him a knowing glance as he sips on his glass.
“Get me a drink please? I would do it myself, but I don’t want to risk having to talk to a random guy and-” He interrupts her immediately when she mentions the possibility of someone else hitting on her.
“I got it.” He’s spinning around, fast walking toward the bar before she can tell him what she wants.
She turns around, wandering over to Max and plopping down beside him on the soft, black couch in the corner of the room.
Max shakes his head as he looks at her, chuckling softly before letting his head fall to his chest.
“What?” She asks, eyebrows raising at the boy she had grown close to over the time she’d spent with his friend.
“You two are so funny.” He continues giggling, his girlfriend smacking his arm with a cautious look.
Y/n’s eyebrows furrow, “What?”
“You guys say you hate each other, but then you look at each other like you can’t wait to rip the other’s clot-” He begins, but Pietra slaps her hand over his mouth.
“MAX FEWTRELL!” She screams over the music, “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”
Her scolding makes him cower into himself, a drunken look on his face as he searches for mercy from his girlfriend.
Y/n is about to press for more when Lando shoves her drink in front of her, holding it out for her until she cradles it in her own.
Looking down at it, her head tilts, “A vodka soda with two orange slices?”
Lando stares at her blankly, “Yeah, you’re favorite, right?”
She nods, “Yeah.”
They look at each other for a moment. Confusion on both their faces for two different reasons.
“Is that a problem?” He asks her, hand dangerously close to her thigh and heating the skin of her leg up with the need for him to splay his fingers across it.
She shakes her head slowly, “No, just- How did you know it was my favorite?”
Emotions flash through his eyes, too fast for Y/n to decipher them. He withdraws physically, cold returning to her leg when his hand retracts to his lap.
“Uh, you just told me a few times.” He stutters.
If she knew him better, she might say for certain he was nervous.
Not mentioning the fact she had never told him what her favorite alcoholic drink was, Y/n moves on. It’s not because she doesn’t want to find out how he knew what she liked or that she simply doesn’t care how he knows, it’s because a camera catches her peripheral eye. Her head discreetly moves to the side, analyzing the drunken girl who stumbles over to the railing and points her phone right at them.
Y/n falls into Lando’s side, his body laid against the back of the couch and making for a comfortable cushion. His arm automatically wraps around her shoulders as her hand plants itself on his upper thigh.
When her fingers brush teasingly close to his crotch, he looks down at her, astonished, “What are you doing?”
“Camera.” She says, his eyes looking up through his lashes before he sees what she had witnessed before.
He nods subtly, leaning down immediately to press his lips to hers shortly. It’s a kiss like the ones they’d had before, quick and dry, yet, this one, instead of pulling away right after, Lando lingers. His lips brush against hers in hesitation, as if he’s deciding whether or not he wants to lean back in for more. His eyes stare into hers, top lip hitting her bottom one as he dips his chin down. He’s close to taking what he wants, breath heavy against her face as he holds her to him. His hands eagerly claw at her dress, forcing her to stay where she is, where he wants her to be, close to him. Yet, he continues to hesitate.
Finally, for the first time, Y/n sees the emotion that hides behind the beautiful color of his eyes; confusion.
It’s only for a split second though. She sees it only for a millisecond as Lando feels the way she breaks down a wall he had built up long ago. When she realizes the war behind his head, he retreats.
His hands fall from her back and his head turns to the side, rejecting what he wanted to do. She watches him look for the girl that had been filming them, eyes roaming over the crowd before coming to the conclusion she was gone.
“No camera.” He says curtly, pushing her off him as he gets up from the couch and walks back to the bar.
She watches him order another drink, no doubt for himself.
Her eyes train on the drink that sits, sweating, on the table in front of them.
Lando’s drink that’s completely full.
🏎️
Liquid courage is a real thing. It’s what drives Lando to ask Y/n to join him on the dance floor. It’s what drives Y/n to pull him into her and sway her hips right against him. They’re on beat with the music, it thumping in their hearts as Lando grips her hips and forces her body closer to his. There’s a newfound sexual tension, rather than the usual tension that consisted of complicated feelings and lingering hurt over past insults. Her hands drape over his neck, head in his chest as he lays his against her shoulder, withholding groans when she circles her hips and accidentally caresses his dick.
His head’s somewhere else, terrifyingly so. He’s not fully thinking through his actions or the thoughts running through his head, the consequences they would have.
All he can think about is the feeling of Y/n’s boobs pressed up against his chest, her cleavage cum-worthy when he looks down and sees her potential spill-out.
The chorus of Love Tonight pumps through the speakers, communicating the feelings they’re too scared to say.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
The music spurs him on, almost nudging his head downwards to meet her in the same spot they had been in just a few hours before.
His lips hovering over hers with the same thoughts as before, Lando’s brain goes haywire. She’s panting against him, hips relentless as they continue to circle against him. He’s drowning in her, no escape from the hold she has on him.
Fuck it, he thinks.
He smashes his lips against hers, the first kiss they’ve had that truly puts into perspective how much they want each other. Teeth clashing, his tongue wandering the walls of her mouth, Lando and Y/n fail to come up with an excuse for their actions.
No cameras, no fans, no press.
Just the two of them, dancing and kissing with one singular goal.
All I need is your love tonight.
“Here’s your check! Thank you for joining us tonight!” The waiter smiles, setting down the black booklet as Lando quickly swipes it from the table.
Whining, Y/n waves her card around, “Lando, when are you going to let me pay? I don’t think I’ve paid a single time we’ve been together.”
He smiles at her mischievously, “Exactly.”
She rolls her eyes, “Lando,”
He eyes her as he scribbles onto the receipt, “Y/n,”
She scoffs, sitting back in her chair with a huff.
When he’s done, he gives her a sympathetic look before reaching across the table and grabbing her hand, “How about next time we get coffee you pay for your own?”
She looks away from him with a failing suppressive smile, “That’s like five dollars, Lan! You’ve probably spent thousands in the time we’ve been together.”
He shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter.”
Her face scrunches up, “Yes, it does!”
He’s about to rebuttal, but the screeching of people close to them takes their soft eyes off the other.
A mixed group of girls and boys stop at their table, smiling brightly at the two drivers. One of them stands in the middle, phone clutched to her chest as she asks, “Can we get a picture?”
Lando looks to Y/n, searching for approval, but she’s not looking at him. He watches her face light up, smiling big at the fans in front of them as she gets up from her chair.
“Yeah, of course!” She laughs, a sound so light and delicate, it makes Lando’s heart clench in his chest. He never saw the way she acted around fans, having been isolated from them in the times they were together. However, now, as he stays put in his chair and stares on, he adores the way she adores them.
His hands clasped in his lap, Lando sits motionlessly. He can’t take his eyes off the woman who is very clearly making this group’s year. They all stare at her as if she held the moon in their hands, a present from her to them. There’s a simple sparkle in their eyes as she takes pictures with each of them, a simple sparkle that tells him just how much these kids look up to her.
He’s enamored by her, just like they are. For different reasons, though.
“Lan, are you going to get up?” She giggles, hitting his arm and reminding him of the task at hand.
The group stares at him, not the same way they had stared at her notably. He can tell they value him, they’re excited by him, but they aren’t starstruck by him.
He can live with that, though. He gets what it’s like to become speechless over something so beautiful.
After a few more clicks of the camera, the supposed couple sits back down in their seats, but Y/n doesn’t let the fans leave yet. He watches as they brighten at her starting conversation with them.
He loves this. He loves he-
“I have to say, I was so surprised when I found out you two were together.” One of the girls in the group interrupts his questionable internal dialogue. He’s relieved, however. He can’t be thinking that way.
He can’t be feeling that way.
He isn’t.
Y/n tilts her head up at them, “Yeah?”
The group nods and one of the boys speaks up, “Yeah, you two, like, hated each other.”
Everyone laughs, Y/n sitting back in her chair as Lando watches her take the statement easily, “Well, we didn’t hate each other. We did love each other, just didn’t know how to deal with it.”
Her eyes meet his and, for a moment, Lando wonders if she truly means it or if she’s signaling for him to add on.
He goes with adding on, “Yeah, definitely. Who could hate her?”
You could, she thinks. You do, she thinks.
The words sink her heart to her stomach. A reality so crushing, she hates to entertain it. When this is all over, he’ll go back to hurting her with jabs that attack her self-confidence and she’ll be left to hang on to the man he had been when they were “together”.
She doesn’t want to go back to hating him, yet she’s scared she will. She doesn’t want to go back to knowing who he truly is at his core, yet she’s scared she will.
She doesn’t want to go back to knowing what he truly thinks of her, yet she’s scared she will.
By the time she returns to the conversation, the fans are simultaneously thanking them for their time and kindness. Leaving them alone, Lando stands from the table and checks the bill once more. Y/n grabs her bag, “Why’re you checking it again?”
He looks up at her as his pointer finger lingers on the paper, “Oh, just calculating what you’ll owe me when this is all said and done. You know, when we go back to hating each other’s guts.”
He says it jokingly, she can tell he’s teasing as he laughs it off, holding her hand gently as he leads her out of the restaurant. But, none of that stops the way she exhales a deep breath, a sigh that carries so much pain, she wonders where it came from.
Lando used to mean nothing to her, or so she thought.
Had he always meant everything?
Silverstone is supposed to be a fun race for Lando. It’s one of his favorites on the calendar. Although, that joy is rapidly tanking as he races quickly around the track, smoke emitting from behind him and filling the air, filling his helmet. He coughs harshly as he rushes into his radio, “Was that a crash?! Who is it?! Are they okay?! Is it on fire?! There’s smoke.”
There’s panic in his voice, knowing regardless of who it is, he’ll be worried.
Andrea’s silent on the other line, heightening Lando’s concerns.
“Andrea! What’s going on? Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you.” Andrea responds immediately.
Lando rounds a corner before he speaks back, confusions drenching his tone, “Okay, so who was that? Are they okay?”
Andrea is monotone, “I don’t know if they’re okay right now.”
Lando’s heart drops, “Oh, no, who was it? Was it one of the Williams? A Ferrari? Maybe a Haas?”
Again, Andrea doesn’t answer him and Lando is about to press him further when he reaches the crash site once more. Eyes trained on the color of the car, the words “Red Bull” hit him hard.
Andrea waits for the anxiety to kick in on the other line, fully prepared to talk him down as he watches for any updates on the crash.
“IT’S A FUCKING RED BULL! IS IT Y/N? ANDREA, IS IT Y/N?” He screams, voice shaking as he begins to slow down, cars passing him by and making him lose positions.
Andrea watches the decline of Lando’s car in the race standings, head falling as he realizes no information about Y/n will come quick enough to make him get back in the race.
Calmly, he responds, “I am not sure who it is yet.”
He hears Lando groan aggressively, “Bullshit! Is it her?!”
His yelling can be heard throughout the entire wall, everyone giving side glances to Andrea over the man who is currently screaming.
“Lando, I promise you, if I knew who it was, I would tell you.” Andrea gives, voice pleading.
It’s quiet for a moment, the only thing heard being the sounds of Lando’s heavy breathing. Solemnly, Andrea watches a camera zoom in past the smoke and center the number of the car in the frame.
Y/n’s car.
Clicking the button, Andrea speaks to Lando, “I can confirm it is Y/n’s car. No knowledge of if she’s gotten out of the car or not.”
Again, there’s silence before Lando’s hand smacks his steering wheel and he lets out a noise filled with anguish, “Please, tell me when you find out.”
Torturously, Lando passes by her car at every turn, watching only for a second as people work to try and get her out of the car.
Andrea watches in horror as a group of men lift her from the car, her body limp and unmoving as they run her to the safety car.
“She’s out of the car.” He murmurs to Lando, praying the boy won’t ask more questions.
He does, “Good! That’s good! By herself or did she need aid?”
The sound of Andrea’s heavy sigh kills Lando, “No, not by herself. She needed help.”
“How much help?”
Silence.
Lando yelps, “ANDREA! TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON RIGHT FUCKING NOW! THIS IS MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! HOW MUCH FUCKING HELP?”
“She’s not moving.”
Lando doesn’t say anything, his mind racing as his eyes water.
Finally, he speaks, “I need to retire the car.”
Andrea and the rest of the pit wall turn to look at each other with outraged stares, “What? No, Lando. The car’s perfectly fine. The pace is great, no dam-”
Lando interrupts Andrea with a broken voice, “The car’s not the reason we need to retire the car. It’s the driver. It’s me.”
Everyone can hear it in the way his voice cracks, he’s crying, knowing he can’t see through it. It’s a danger, it truly is, and that forces Andrea and the team to comply with Lando’s demands.
When he parks in the garage, he clampers out. Shoving engineers, Andrea, his dad, Zak, and anyone else who gets in his way or tries to talk to him, Lando sprints over to the medical center. On his way, he loses his mind over the possibility that she might not be there, already at the hospital, or she will be there, but just her lifeless body.
He’s still drenched in sweat, the amount doubling from his running, when he gets there. Lando pushes past the people who stand at the front, not giving them time to tell him he can’t come in. He hears them call out in opposition, but he’s already in and he just doesn’t care.
There’s no time to address the feelings swirling in his stomach that feel ten times what he had felt for any of his past girlfriends. There’s no time to talk about the way he cries over the image of her burning car or her unconscious body being pulled from it. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, last year, he wouldn’t have acted this crazed over her accident. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, now, he’s fully prepared to brawl with anyone that dares to stand in his way of finding her.
There’s no time because he’s reaching her door and flinging it open. There are nurses beside her conscious figure, tending to the scratches and cuts she has from the car’s debris. Even with the bloodied bandages, Lando smiles at her smiling at him.
When she sees him, her arm reaches out for him without thinking. He takes long strides to get to her even in the small room and, when he does, he grabs her hand.
Kneeling down on the floor beside her, he squeezes her hand, “You okay?”
She nods, “Will be.”
“That’s good enough for me.” He whispers, nurses glancing at each other before exiting the room at the intimacy flowing between the two.
They really were selling this.
Suddenly, Y/n’s eyebrows knit together as her gaze lifts to the clock on the wall, “Wait, Lan, the race is still going. Did you crash?”
He shakes his head, eyes averting from hers, “No, I retired the car.”
Her other hand reaches to turn his gaze back to hers, holding his jaw softly as he smiles at her, “Why?” She whispers.
“Because I needed to make sure you were okay.”
The truth hangs in the air painfully.
They can’t speak of what that means or what that alludes to. They can’t speak of the way he clutches onto her hand as if she’ll go away. They can’t speak of the way he raced over here, throwing important people to the side in a state of pure panic. They can’t speak of the way they stare at each other, yearn for each other in a way that goes against every rule they agreed to when this started.
All they can do is kiss each other sweetly and lie.
Lie to themselves about what will happen after it’s over; lie to themselves about how much they truly care for each other; lie to the PR teams and tell them nothing is developing between them, that it’s safe to continue this.
And, most of all, later, when Zak asks Lando why he has lip gloss smudged against his mouth, they must lie.
“Can you zip me up?” Y/n turns around in the car, her back to Lando as her dress hangs open slightly at the top.
He nods, fingers delicate against her skin as he glides against it, trailing the cool metal up. His hands finish on her shoulders, slowly rubbing softly as she begins to lean against him.
“Lan, that feels good.” She mumbles, words slurred from the way his fingers work the knots under her skin.
Her body lies fully on him, his mouth by her ear as they wait to get to their destination. He continues to massage her, whispering random things in her ear about errands they need to run or complete tomorrow.
With her eyes closed and relaxed state, Lando admires how safe she feels around him. Five months ago, Y/n wouldn’t have dared to let him touch her in the way he was, in the way he had over the past two months, however things had changed. For better or for worse, Lando still wasn’t sure.
The driver in the front eyes them questionably, having witnessed the change in their dynamic over their months together.
With her body still limp against him, the car stops in front of the gala’s entrance. Photographers scream beyond the door and flashes of cameras blind them even as they sit behind the glass.
Looking at her and taking her hand in his, Lando whispers, “Ready?”
She nods, “Always.”
A man opens their door, the volume erupting as Lando steps out, his hand clutching Y/n’s as she follows suit. Immediately, they’re pulled into multiple pictures. Lando’s arm finds its home around her waist with Y/n’s hand resting on his chest, a couple so perfect for each other. Their endeavor had been so incredibly successful, both their teams’ PR divisions were pleasantly surprised. Lando looks on at her, a radiant smile gracing her face as she speaks to one of the reporters on the carpet, and hates the feeling of knowing how close the end is.
In just a few weeks, they’ll be sitting down to write a small paragraph, one that will be posted to their Instagram stories as it tries to sum up the romance they thought they had.
At night, he tries to think of words to describe the moments he’s had with her and, every time, he comes up empty.
Her laughing at the journalist’s joke makes him come to the conclusion there will never be a time where he can gather syllables to explain how undeniably perfect she is.
How he got to the place of being able to address how wonderful she was? Lando had an inkling it was because of the way she made his heart pound and hands sweat.
🏎️
Lando and Y/n easily make their rounds throughout the room, greeting sponsors and potential ones with their hands clasped together. It’s obvious how charming they are together, obvious when random strangers are flipping open their checkbooks at the sight of them. Lando knows it’s all her with her thoughtful sentences and engaging demeanor.
He’s a side piece and he’s okay with that, only okay with it when he’s her side piece.
They’re in the midst of sharing a new drink they decided to try, giggles shared between them as they pass the glass between each other. They had started doing this ages ago, when they first grew closer to one another. In order to make these events go by quicker, they started trying all the items on the alcoholic menu they had never heard before. Some of his favorite memories of her had taken place when she tried something she didn’t like and almost spit it out at him.
“I think this one’s good! What’s it called again? Something sexual, right?” She asks as he takes another swig.
Lando shakes his head, grin on his face as he lifts the drink up to their eye level, “I forgot, but it must be cum something. Sure does look like cum.”
Her mouth falls open and she screeches, “Lando!”
He falls over onto the table beside them, laughing, “What? You don’t swallow?”
She joins him in laughter, “You wish you knew.”
Of fucking course, he thinks.
“Lando?” A voice from his past calls from behind them.
Lando’s heart drops, turning around and seeing Luisinha.
“Hey, Lu!” She moves to hug him, squeezing him lightly before letting her eyes drift to the girl quietly standing with him.
“Hi, Y/n.” She speaks, smiling softly as she hugs her.
Luisinha giggles before looking between the two, “I assume I need to be reintroduced to you. Before, you were Y/n, driver for Red Bull. Now, you’re Y/n, Lando’s girlfriend.”
Y/n nods, a gesture that looks to come so easy to her, Lando wishes it was real.
They hug again, chuckling at the situation before Luisinha directs her attention back to her ex-boyfriend, “It’s nice to see you, Lan! All those nights spent on the phone just aren’t the same as seeing you in person.”
Y/n loses her breath over Lu’s words, gaze drifting immediately to Lando and watching as he nods along.
“Yeah! Seriously, talking to you over the phone isn’t enough.”
His response, easy and light, crushes her.
Y/n steps in closer, “Sorry, um, you two still talk?”
Luisinha looks to Lando, intrigue in her eyes as she searches him. Lando, the boy stuck between his past and present, realizes his mistake.
He shakes his hands, “No, I mean- Yes, but it’s not like that, Y/n.”
Luisinha stays silent as she watches Y/n try to keep her composure, “When was the last time you talked?”
Lando can’t bring himself to answer, so Lu does for him, feeling for the girl in between them, “Last night.”
He watches Y/n’s face slowly process the information. It’s as if reality comes crashing down on her, a harsh moment that reminds her of what they are to each other at the end of the day.
Y/n nods, smiling at the two before beginning to walk back, “I need a minute, sorry.”
Lu watches Lando long for her, momentarily wishing Y/n would just understand how much he feels for her, and Luisinha, finally, gets a wave of closure. She understands now why they broke up. When he ended it, Lando had told her he loved her more as a friend, something that broke her, yet, now, she understands why she had been so confused. Originally, she thought he did love her, he just been too afraid to tell her the real reason for their separation, but, as she stares at the pooling in his eyes, she sees a look she never got.
A look of intense love.
She nudges his arm, “Don’t let her get away.”
He nods at her, running off in the direction Y/n had left, eyes searching for her in the sea of people.
🏎️
Lando catches sight of her gorgeous y/h/c hair off in a small hallway of the hotel. He jogs over, her back to him, and lays a soft hand over her shoulder.
She stiffens, refusing to turn around and meet his eyes. However, his voice coaxes her, “Y/n, look at me.”
As much as she tries not to, she does and it breaks her further.
Her watery eyes and lost head tilt are a stab to Lando’s heart, her choked up voice speaking, “So, you were talking to her the entire time we were doing this?”
He’s at a loss, knowing that’s the perfect truth, yet knowing it isn’t fully, “Yes, but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
Her body jerks away from him and the anger he was usually greeted with returns, “Oh?! Then, what does it mean, Lando?! Because it looks like I meant fucking nothing to you! I know it isn’t in my head! I know what’s happened between us isn’t just some people getting over the hatred they had for each other! I thought you felt that way too!”
“I do!” He yells back, frustration at her obliviousness getting to him.
Tears leak down her face, “Then, why did you spend the entirety of this talking to your ex! Why’d you agree to this if you still love your ex?!”
Lando groans, “I don’t love my ex! I don’t love Lu! I love you!”
Her tears fall harder, “Do you? How could someone love another person they used to loathe?!”
Lando shakes his head, overwhelmed at what’s going on in his brain, “It just happened, Y/n! You think I thought this would happen?! No, I didn’t!”
Y/n resigns, quiet taking over other than their heavy breathing, “I don’t believe you.”
His annoyance takes over, “Well, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
I want you to tell me why you love me, she thinks. I want to know where your hate turned to love, she thinks.
Those things go unsaid.
Instead, she huffs, “I think this has gotten too out of hand. I think we need to end this arrangement early.”
She sees the unmistakable sadness etched into his face, “How early?”
“Like, tonight.” She whispers, protecting herself from the world of hurt that would be being loved by him. She isn’t Luisinha, she isn’t a model or breathtaking woman. She’s a girl who fell in love with a “boy’s” sport, a girl who has seen the flaws within herself and tried, desperately, to change them, rewrite them. She never does, although. She always comes out the same on the other side.
The truth catches up with her and images of the beautiful women Lando has had in his bed fill her mind. How does she know this isn’t some elaborate prank to get her vulnerable and then humiliate her out of the resentment he holds against her and the situation she got him in?
Lando musters up some sort of guard, distaste returning after its five month long hiatus, “Fine. I’ll let McLaren know. This works anyway. You served your purpose, got my reputation back to where it was before you came in and fucking destroyed it. You ruin everything, you know that, Y/n?”
She nods, cries intensifying at what she had been afraid of: his hatred for her returning after getting to know a side of him so tender.
“Got it, Lando.” She whispers, slinking past him and out of the building.
He watches her walk away, confused at how he had confessed his love for her and ended it by telling her she was destructive.
She isn’t. How could he say that?
How could he tell the one woman who had built him up that she had tore him down? How could he let frustrated anger replace the love he had for her?
How could he let her get away?
UPDATE: i posted part 2! Find it here.
A/N: TUMBLR GLITCHED OUT AND WAS CRACKING DOWN AT HOW LONG THIS WAS SO I WILL MAKE A PART TWO WITH A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE
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deargojou · 2 months
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【 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 (𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘) 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐒𝐒 】
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You felt a sharp smack on your ass as you stood at the kitchen counter making your morning coffee. Nearly sloshing your creamer all over the place, you turned and gave Gojo an exasperated look.
“Really?” you sighed.
He stood there, grinning unapologetically. “I can’t help it! Your butt is just so cute and round, like a little peach.” To emphasize his point, he gave your ass another hearty squeeze.
You rolled your eyes, unable to stop a small chuckle from escaping. Gojo had always found enjoyment when it came to grabbing your rear end. Ever since you started dating, he took immense joy in smacking, squeezing, or groping your ass at any given opportunity.
At first, it flustered and embarrassed you. But now, after nearly a year together, you were used to his playful antics.
Mostly, you found it endearing―when he wasn’t going overboard, that is.
After doctoring up your coffee, you crossed to the small kitchen table and sat down to enjoy your breakfast. Gojo’s long fingers immediately crept under the back of your chair, finding and pinching your ass. You jumped, nearly choking on your coffee.
“Satoru!” you scolded.
He laughed, clearly delighting in having caught you off guard. “Sorry, baby~ I just can’t resist! Your butt is so tempting.”
You fixed him with your best withering look, which only made him grin wider. With a dramatic sigh, you went back to sipping your coffee and reading the news on your phone.
After cleaning up from breakfast, you decided to be productive and tidy up the living room. You began dusting the shelves and surfaces, pointedly ignoring Gojo sitting on the couch behind you.
You were bent over wiping down the TV stand when you felt a sharp smack on your ass. You stood up swiftly, whirling around to face your snickering boyfriend.
“Satoru! Enough already!” you huffed.
“Sorry, I just couldn't stop myself,” he claimed innocently. “You were bent over right in front of me, it was too perfect to pass up.”
Despite your exasperation, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “You are terrible.”
Gojo grinned, completely unrepentant. He patted his knee in an invitation. “Come here and sit with me.”
You eyed him warily. “So you can grope my butt some more?”
“Maybe,” he smirked. Still, you found yourself settling onto his lap. His arms wrapped around you as you leaned into his chest.
“You know, I just love you so much, I can’t keep my hands off you,” Gojo murmured into your hair.
“Of course I know that. And I don’t really mind. Just maybe tone it down a little in public, please?”
Gojo let out a chuckle, “I’ll try, but no promises. Your butt is just too glorious not to be appreciated whenever possible.”
To emphasize his point, his hand drifted down to squeeze your ass again. You yelped in surprise, then dissolved into giggles.
After a lazy morning cuddling on the couch, you stood up and announced you were going to take a shower. As you walked away, you paused and looked over your shoulder.
“Don’t even think about it,” you warned, seeing him poised to strike.
He put his hands up innocently. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”
You narrowed your eyes but continued to the bathroom. You took your time enjoying a long, hot shower, allowing the water to soothe away any tension. After toweling off, you slid into comfy housewear.
Walking back out into the living room toweling your hair dry, you didn’t see Gojo. You breathed a small sigh of relief, glad to have a reprieve from his antics.
You padded into the kitchen in search of a snack. Humming to yourself, you bent down to rifle through the fridge.
Suddenly, you felt two large hands squeeze your ass enthusiastically. You shrieked in surprise, bumping your head on the fridge shelf. Spinning around, you saw Gojo doubled over in laughter.
“Satoru! You scared me!” you scolded, though you were fighting back laughter yourself.
“I’m sorry! I couldn't resist with you bent over like that,” Gojo claimed between snickers.
You swatted his chest with the towel still in your hand. “That’s it, no more Ms. Nice Girlfriend. I’m going to get you back for this!”
“Oh, really? I’d like to see you try.”
You fixed him with your best menacing look. Though inside, you were turning over ideas for how to give him a taste of his own medicine.
The perfect opportunity arose that evening. You and Gojo were settling into bed after a lazy day spent lounging around the apartment. As you slid under the covers, a delightfully wicked idea came to you.
You rolled onto your side, turning your back to Gojo. After a few minutes, you felt the bed dip as he scooted closer to you. One of his arms wrapped around your waist in a spooning cuddle.
You held your breath, waiting for the opportune moment. When you felt his hand slide down to cup your bottom, you struck. In one swift movement, you whipped around and delivered a sharp smack to Gojo’s pajama-clad ass.
“Hey!” he yelped in surprise.
You collapsed into laughter at the shocked expression on his face. “Not so fun when you’re on the receiving end, is it?” you teased.
“I’ve created a monster!” His surprise morphed into an impressed grin. “But I have to admit, I liked it.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Don’t get too excited. That was payback for earlier.” Settling back down, you added, “But maybe I’ll spank you again if you behave yourself.”
“Oh, kinky~” Gojo barked out a delighted laugh and pulled you close. “I knew I loved you for a reason.” He nuzzled into your neck, his earlier antics temporarily forgotten.
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satorusugurugurl · 1 month
Note
If this request makes you uncomfortable or isn’t something you want to write, I apologize and please ignore my request!
Heyy! I was wondering if I could request a satoru x reader x Suguru smut? With like, some bdsm mixed in yk. Tying reader up, satoru is a tease, and likes to make her squirm and ask questions he know she can’t answer because Suguru is fucking her throat. But Suguru is mean. Mean and tougher than satoru. He tells satoru to stop being so gentle with you, that not only do you deserve rough treatment but you like it. And satoru listens to him, of course. I just want them to run through me like a train😞
Also same mean geto anon (again lol) I’m gonna just sign off w an emoji now :3 -🍭
Hi Anon!
This isn't my cup of tea, it's my FUCKING jam!!
Summary: Gojo and Geto had been on a two-week-long mission, which hadn't gone as smoothly as Suguru wanted. He was pent-up and frustrated. So, of course, Gojo called you to warn you it might not be a good idea to come over. You, of course, did not heed his warning. The second you get home, you realize that you were screwed.
Word Count: 3,706
Warnings: BDSM, rough sex, oral sex, so much sex, degradation, teasing, the smuttiest of smut
A/N: Good God, Satoru x Reader x Suguru is my weakness!! I put my whole heart into this. Geto Suguru, teacher AU, is my kryptonite!
Part Two
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She Likes it Like That
“Y/N babe,” Gojo said in a hushed whisper, “you probably shouldn't come home tonight.”
You cocked an eyebrow, looking away from the first year's training. “I'm sorry, did you just tell me not to come home. . .to our apartment?” The world ‘our’ came out like acid.
Gojo sighed overdramatically. “Don't say it like that. I'm trying to save you! Suguru is in such a bad mood.” You listened to him walking around. “I sighed out loud when I noticed the last of my mochi was gone. Fuck you for that, by the way, and do you know what he said to me?” You pinched at the bridge of your nose, waiting for the rant to continue. “He told me to shut the fuck up! For sighing!”
“What did you do to piss him off? Oh, and just an FYI, I bought you more mochi, asshole.”
“Oh—” silence, “thank you-I’m sorry, please don't return it.”
“Satoru! Forget about the mochi. What happened to Sugu?”
The mission your partners were sent on did not go as planned. Their hotel had flooded; it was not like they had time to consider sleeping. The higher-ups sent them to an abandoned mountainside village full of cursed spirits. Poor Suguru had to swallow dozens for nearly two weeks. Gojo had enough; he couldn't stand the pained expression on his face as he gagged the last spirit down. So he decided to Hollow-Purpled the entire village.
The second they got back, the higher-ups scolded the hell out of them. Chastising them, complaining that they didn't do a good enough job. After all their hard work, the time they spent away from home, from you. Those bastards dared to complain about their hard work. It sent Suguru into a terrible mood, one that was bound to end with either a fight or someone getting fucked into the mattress.
One thing about Suguru was that when he was pissy, things felt out of his control. He needed to take control back. Which meant he wanted to have sex. He would be rough, really rough, tying either you or Satoru up, not letting you go until he had calmed down. Or if one of you was fucked too stupid to continue, his eyes focused on the other that wasn't tied up.
“So please, just stay with Ieiri tonight. I'm going to lock myself in my room. Last time he was this pissed off, the both of us were so sore we couldn't move.”
“Ugh, fuckin’ whatever.” This whole situation wasn't fair. You hated how your boyfriends were mistreated.
“Yeah, just stay the—oh, hi Suguru.” There was a shuffling in the background. “No, I wasn't talking shit.” Satoru nervously laughed. “Look, Sugu—no, put down the rope—”
“Toru?” Panic for your boyfriend sank into your stomach.
“Hey! Wait a second—Sugu—”
Before any other indication of what was happening came through the receiver, the other line cut off. So you quickly yelled to the students you had to leave and took off. By the time you made it, you were breathless from running and realized that in your panic, you left your keys at work.
You picked up the spare key hidden under the doormat. Just as you were about to unlock the door, it flew open. You slowly blinked, looking up at a very irritated Suguru. The man radiated gloom and tension. He was in his sweatpants, and his hair was tied in a messy bun, and, dear God, he looked pent up.
“Why the fuck are you using the spare key?”
“I-I uh—”
“Ooooh~ there she is~!” a hand gently rested against Suguru’s shoulder as Satoru peered down at you from behind your dark-haired boyfriend. “There's our girl!”
It only took a moment to see that Satoru mirrored Suguru’s frustration and anger. Oh fuck. The key fell from your hand as you took a step back. Suguru was demanding and rough when he was pent up. Satoru, on the other hand, was a tease. He liked pushing you, making you cry. Both of them being in a pissy mood simultaneously, this was a nightmare for you.
“Y-You, I thought you were in trouble!”
“Oh yeah, no.” Suguru’s soured face slowly twisted into a smirk as Satoru licked his lip. “But you~?” Suguru’s hand darted out, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, preventing you from moving further back. “You're royally fucked.” Before you even had a chance to respond, Suguru and Satoru grabbed you, yanking you inside.
“Awe~” Satoru hummed as he trailed his kiss up the bare thighs he lay between. “Look at you~ trying to clamp your thighs shut.” Gojo’s fingers were buried deep inside of you. Finger fucking you to the edge of yet another orgasm he would deny. “But you can't, can you~? Suguru’s got you all tied to the bed, spread out for us to use you.” A muffled moan escaped you. “Huh? What was that princess? You gotta use your big girl words.” Satoru tilted his head, cupping his free hand around the back of his ear. “Oooh! That's right, you can't talk when getting your throat fucked.”
You gagged as Suguru's cock hit the back of your throat. He was quiet, his eyes shut in concentration. He looked so fucking hot, so focused on the feeling of your mouth. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he pulled in and out of your mouth, grunting softly as you hollowed your cheeks. But the more Satoru spoke, the more Suguru knitted his eyebrows.
“I bet you want me to stuff your pussy, too, don't you~? You want to be spit-roasted between your two boyfriends?” Your pussy twitched at his words. “Oooh~!! Your cunt just twitched. Is that what our sweet girl wants—”
“Satoru,” Suguru snarled, “shut the fuck up.”
“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Y/N likes it when I tease her.”
Suguru tsked, pulling his thick cock out of your mouth. You gasped and coughed, spit and precum coating your chin. Between your pants and the gasps for air, Suguru went to what you thought would be a head pat. Instead, his fingers tangled in your air with a hard yank, pulling you up to look down at Satoru. His face was flushed, cerulean eyes wide as he looked between his two partners.
“Look at the fucking slutty face she's making.” The grip on your hair tightened. “You think she looks like this because of your pitiful teasing?” A shaky moan escaped you as he tightened his grip harder. “No, she looks like this because this little slut likes it rough.”
Fuck, you wanted more, to run your hands over Suguru’s arms, to grip his cock, urging him to keep fucking your throat. You were desperate to trap Satoru's head firmly between your thighs, forcing him to kiss and lick your clit. Instead, you weakly tugged at the purple restraints tied to both your wrists and ankles. Suguru had set up the rigging underneath the mattress, making it impossible for you to move. Meaning if you wanted his cock back in your mouth or Satoru’s tongue inside of you, you had to wait for them.
What made it more frustrating was the fact that you were completely bare. Not allowing you to hide the way your body reacted to Suguru’s dirty words. He was telling the truth. And the truth was behind your body's reactions. Gojo could see it in the way your tight entrance clenched around his fingers. He could feel your pussy drip around him, your wetness running down his knuckles. Suguru was right; you did like it; no, like wasn't the right word.
You fucking loved it.
Suguru could see the wheels turning in Satoru’s head as his eyes glittered with lust and excitement. “Satoru~ do you finally see it?~” The way Suguru purred his name had Satoru’s cock throbbing. “You see why she came home, even though she knew she’d get fucked?”
“Yeah, yeah, she's a fucking slut.”
“Yeah, she is.” A sharp tug on your head made you yelp. Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “You want it rough? Want me to fuck your throat so hard you cry, pretty girl?”
“Y-Yes, please.”
Gripping his cock at the base, Suguru slapped his thick meat against your cheek. “That's a good girl. Now open up.” slowly, you opened your mouth to him. Watching your tongue slip out had his tip angry, throbbing red. “Now,” he smeared the beading precum over your bottom lip, “say ah~.”
“Ahh~” The second that sound left your pretty mouth Suguru shoved his cock in your mouth. Your eyes stung as tears filled your eyes.
Satoru’s fingers had stopped their slow movements inside of you. His mouth was dry as he gulped. Suguru had been rough before, but this was a whole new level. His thick fingers wrapped around your Y/H/C hair, holding your head in place. His hips pull back before slamming forward, his ass clenching with the force of each thrust. Blue eyes slowly trailed over to your face. Your eyes were red, big tears slowly down your cheeks, and your throat was fucked. Satoru swore he could see Suguru’s tip bulging in your slender neck.
This was fucking hot. Suguru’s bare back glittered in the low light of the bedroom, a sheen of sweat beaded over his toned muscles. It was like watching a god fuck a mortal Suguru radiated a dominating power as he watched their girlfriend choke and gag on his cock. Satoru’s cock was so hard it fucking hurt. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft, jerking it slowly as he leaned down, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs.
The gentle kisses had you sighing contently around Suguru’s cock. Looking over his shoulder, Suguru sighed as he watched Satoru. His pink tongue was stuck out, gently teasing your damp folds. The sensation had you sighing around his dick, and that was not what he needed right this fucking second. Suguru wanted more; he needed it to relieve the tension in his shoulder. But that relief, the release he needed, wouldn’t happen, with Satoru teasing you like he loved to do.
“Satoru,” Suguru's voice was rough, “I just told you Y/N likes it rough.”
“Uh-huh~” Satoru’s voice was muffled as his face buried in your pussy, making you whine around the cock buried in your mouth.
“You’re not being rough enough.” Satoru pulled back, making you whine in protest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to come down here and eat Y/N’s pussy while I get my dick sucked?”
“No.” The cocky smile that was beginning to form on Satoru’s face was suddenly gone as Suguru reached his free hand down, wrapping his fingers in soft white hair. “I want you to fucking eat her cunt out like you fucking hate her.” Your eyes rolled back as Satoru was slammed back down into your pussy. The moan that left his mouth vibrated just right against our clit, making you cry out. “Ah~ fuck yes.” Your cries vibrated around Suguru’s cock, just the way he wanted. “That’s it, Satoru, keep it up.”
“Mmmmph.” Finally, having a picture of how Suguru wanted him to act, Satoru found himself motivated. Again, it might be because his boyfriend was tugging and pulling at his sensitive hairline. Yeah, that was motivating him. Fuck you like he hated you, he could do that. He was just as pent-up as Suguru was.
Fingers slammed inside your pussy, fucking in and out of your tight hole with a force and speed that had you crying out in pleasure. Your moans felt so fucking good, and the more you opened your mouth to cry, the deeper Suguru fucked your throat. He hit the back over and over again, his hand pressing firmly against Satoru’s head, pushing him harder against your clit. The two of you moaned while your mouths were being used; the sounds of whimpers, squelches, and gagging were like a symphony to Suguru’s ears.
Out of all the ways for him to relieve his stress, this was by far his favorite.
“Hah—fuck keep that up, Satoru, bring her right to the edge, then stop. I want her cumming with both of us inside of her. Fucking her so rough she has to call out of work tomorrow and Friday.” The thought of that had you pulling on your restraints. “Oooh oh, you like that? You like knowing the two of us will make sure you can’t walk or talk tomorrow?” Your muffled moans were quickly molded into gags as Suguru roughly fucked your face. “Yeah, you fucking do, you nasty little slut.”
Your mind was spinning as you felt yourself climbing closer and closer to your orgasm. The room was so hot and reeked of sex. It was all you could do not to allow yourself to cum right then and there. Satoru could feel it, the way your little swollen clit throbbed against his tongue, how your walls clamped down on his fingers. He wanted to send you over the edge. He was close to following you as he fucked his hips helplessly into the mattress, wishing it was your wet pussy instead.
One orgasm wouldn’t hurt, would it? You had been so good to them, allowing the duo to drag you into the house, strip you in the entryway, and tie you to the bed. Plus, on top of all that, they had left you alone for two weeks. You had to rely on that stupid vibrator Suguru insisted on allowing you to keep. That stupid toy was nothing compared to his tongue. Which was probably why he was bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm in under three minutes.
Yeah, he was going to let you cum.
Curling his fingers up into your g-spot, Satoru fucked you as fast as his wrist would allow. Suguru instantly knew what was happening. From the way your eyes shut to how loud you were moaning around him, you were seconds away from cumming. If he was in a better mood, he might have allowed it to happen. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with you yet.
“Stop.” Suguru scolded, pulling Satoru away from your dripping sex.
Both you and Satoru made disapproving groans as your orgasm slowly faded out of sight. “Doesn’t she deserve a treat? She’s been so good!” Satoru whined, licking your juices off his lips.
“I agree. Y/N does deserve a reward. But you need to give it to her in the roughest way that you can.” Suguru pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath. “Look at it this way. We get to blow off the steam while we make up for making her play with herself for two weeks.”
“Huh?” Those words struck a different chord in Satoru, and his cock twitched.
“Y/N, sweetheart, how often would you say you played with yourself when we were gone.”
You swallowed at the air greedily. “I don’t know, seven, maybe eight times.” Both your boyfriends shuddered, hearing the hoarseness of your voice.
“And out of all of those times, did you cum as hard as you do with us.”
“Not at all. They were all baby orgasms.”
Suguru shut his eyes, nodding his head. “See, Satoru, not only does our little slut like us rough and demanding, but we have to make up for those eight little orgasms.” When the dark-haired man looked back at Satoru, he saw a flash of white before your scream of shock and please bounced off the walls.
Suguru’s eyes were slightly wide as his brain tried to catch up with what his eyes had just witnessed. What he saw was Satoru balls deep inside of you. His thrusts were sloppy and needy, and fuck you looked as stunned as Suguru. One second you had been empty, pussy craving a cock deep inside of it from the denied orgasm. In the blink of an eye, Satoru was fucking into you more brutal than he’d ever fucked you before.
“I fucking told you, that toy was nothing compared to us.” Satoru snarled against the crook of your neck, digging his teeth into the sensitive skin. “Fucking stupid toy, not pleasing my girl.”
“Oh my—fuck, holy fuck!” You cried out, mouth wide open. Giving Suguru the perfect opportunity to get back to fucking your throat. The bittersweet taste of pre-cum had your mouth watering. He returned to the brutal pace he was in several minutes again.
“She needs that Satoru. What if we get sent on another long mission? She’s just supposed to suffer?” The thought of that had Suguru tilting his head, bangs falling in front of his eye. “You know what, I think you might be on to something. If we take her toy away, then we’d have to fuck her even harder the next time we get home.”
Satoru’s teeth sank harder into your neck as the tip of his cock slammed almost too hard into your cervix, making you scream around Suguru. “Exactly. Let me use reversal red on it, Y/N, please, baby.” You started to shake your head in a desperate plea to let you keep it. But Suguru’s cock in your throat made it impossible to do so. “What was that? Oh, right, you have your mouth full.” His lips moved against your pulse as his fingers dug into your hips. “Guess we’ll just have to say the way your clamping down on my cock is a yes in our book.” Your eyes darted up to Suguru, who had bought you the toy, for help.
“Mhmm fuck, yeah, I’m pretty sure she just hummed an ‘uh-huh’ around my cock.”
You wanted to argue, to fight against this rash decision, but you felt so good it was almost impossible to care. You were screaming around Suguru’s cock. Tears streaming down your face, leaving behind trails of mascara. They were both being so mean and rough. God, it was so fucking good. Who cared about a clit sucker when your throat and pussy were being fucked into next week.
“She’s close.” Satoru cried out, his balls slapping against your ass. “Oh fuck she’s hugging my cock so tight I’m going to explode Suguru.”
With blurry eyes, you glanced up at Suguru. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes shut tight. “I know, oh fuck I know, I’m so close, Satoru, don’t fuckin’ stop, make her cum, make her cum so hard.” Both his hands grabbed your face fucking your throat roughly as Satoru cried out, his hand pressing roughly on your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.
That was all that you needed. You cried out, squirting all over Satoru’s crotch, abdomen, and the mattress. Your orgasm set a domino effect between your boyfriends. Suguru followed behind you, his body hunched over you, his hands gently squeezing your head as he filled your mouth full of his thick cum. You weakly tried swallowing all of it, but that was somewhat difficult as Satoru extended your orgasm.
His thumb continues to rub your clit until his face scrunch up, mouth open in a feral growl. Satoru's orgasm hit him like a punch in the gut. He fucked all three of you harder, closer to oblivion. The headboard slamming against the wall as the restraint dug into your wrists was the only thing grounding you to remain on Earth. Satoru didn’t let up on the rough thrusts until he felt his cum dripping around his cock onto the bed.
The throbbing pain in the back of your throat, deep inside of your pussy was all the confirmation you needed that your boyfriends had fulfilled their promise. Never in your life had you been fucked so roughly. But it was a pain that you warmly welcomed.
After coming down, Suguru was the first to move gently. The rough hands that had been holding you in a vice gently held you as he pulled his softening cock out of your mouth. “Lay down.” His gruff, gentle voice whispered as he helped rest you against a pillow.
“Oh fuck—“ Satoru lifted his head off your shoulder, “I haven’t cum that hard in a while.” He was so slow, pulling out of you, grimacing as you cried out. “Sorry, fuck I’m sorry, baby.”
You shut your eyes, listening to Satoru getting out of bed. You could hear water running in the bathroom as gentle fingers began undoing your restraints. “You did such a good job, Y/N,” Suguru whispered. “Such a good girl for us.” His praise had you humming happily as he made quick work of the rest of the ropes.
“Suguru, let’s order in, yeah?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
The next half hour was a blur of warm happiness. Satoru helped wash your body in a bubble bath before Suguru joined you, kneeling next to the tub, lovingly stroking your face and hair. After you were cleaned up, your hair brushed, and pajamas on. You crawled into your bed with fresh sheets and relaxed. Satoru and Suguru fluffed your pillows and brought you a cup of tea for your raw throat. When your dinner arrived, the three of you sat in bed together to eat as a B-grade horror movie played on the television.
After eating, Satoru left to throw out the take-out containers. “Mmm, thank you for letting us do all that,” Suguru said as he crawled into bed after his shower. “That mission, it was rough.”
“I’m always happy to help.” Your voice cracked, making Suguru frown. “Stop frowning,” you flicked his forehead. “I like it rough.”
The bed dipped, and Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist. “Y/N can handle it. She is dating the two strongest, after all.” Both you and Suguru scoffed, relaxing in the growing silence. “Oh, by the way, Y/N.”
“Yeah?” You yawned, snuggling into Suguru’s chest as he turned the bedside lamp off.
“Did you bring home my mochi?”
In the dark of the room, you heard a thump and Satoru’s whine before Suguru pulled the three of you closer to him. “Satoru shut the fuck up about the mochi.”
694 notes · View notes
togegiri · 3 months
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✎ᝰ ❛ PORT MAFIA'S GUIDE TO BE A HOUSEHUSBAND! ❜ — dazai osamu. chuuya nakahara. akutagawa ryunosuke.
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౨ৎ⋆˚。⋆ content. A simple guide on being a good househusband created by the port mafia members or should I say ex-port mafia member.
₊˚⊹ ᰔ warnings. gender neutral reader. you/your and they/them pronouns is used. (name) will be used. tooth rottening fluff. there maybe some grammar mistakes. suggestive in dazai's parts. ( 3.5k words. )
note. I had fun writing this I hope you all will like it!
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— THE SPOILING TYPE. 太宰 治 | dazai osamu.
[ “welcome home my darling~ lookie look, I didn't burn down the kitchen! our neighbor lent us her recipe for the castella cake you like, hehe aren't you proud of me? don't I deserve a reward, like a kiss! c’mon just a little for being a great husband for you~” ] 
You two met when you saw him terribly injured due to one of his missions. You first tried to stop his wounds from bleeding but the brunette haired man stopped you glaring and interrogating on what you were doing to him. You, being an honest citizen, said you wanted to help him. Reluctantly he let you help him, still suspicious of you. 
Though his suspicion stopped once you stopped his bleeding and helped him tend to his injuries. He's grateful for that and because of this he formed a friendship with you even though it was small. Due to this small interactions and many more in the past years you two have become a loving husband and lover. He still remembers the day you two met. 
He remembers it was a dark night yet in his words, an angel came and saved him. Exaggerating the events that has followed making you chuckle awkwardly everytime a stranger asked as they are met with this lovesick buffoons rambling about how amazing their lover is. 
After a few months of being married you worry about his job in the port mafia thus leading him to quit his job and become a full time husband for your sake. Living in a small apartment, being with you almost 24/7 and a shining ring in his ring finger that indicates you two will be together till death do you two apart made him the happiest man there is. 
Although he's good at loving you unconditionally, spoiling you with his kisses, and making you laugh through your everyday life, he's quite a terrible cook. You still remember the time he almost burned down the kitchen for trying to cook a curry. Also the time he accidentally burned himself. 
“Ouch ouch ouch!” the curly haired male said, touching his small burnt hand. You looked at him in worry as his eyes formed small tears in the corner, “oh, osamu I told you it was hot,” you scolded him as he pouted at this. “I'm sorry,” he sulked, making you chuckle, “cmon put your hand on the water,” he does as you were told.
“ne ne since I injured myself don't I get a kiss to make it feel better~”
“don't tell me you purposely did that just to get a kiss,”
“I could never do that~” 
He put a innocent front making giggle at his silliness, “still a no,” 
“Oh cmoooon~” 
What a whiny husband you have. 
Although sometimes he purposely injures himself just for you to kiss him better. In other chores he's quite good at, sweeping, wiping the windows, killing a cockroach, and many more. He especially loves it when its shopping day or your day offs because he get to have more time with his darling lover. 
Whenever you two are shopping together he already has a coupon for everything you buy. Solely because while you are out at your job he's out in the store looking for coupons or he's talking to your neighbors.
Your neighbors quite love your husband as they tell you how lucky you are for having a loving and handsome husband and a gentleman to boot too. He always talks to them like a gossipy housewife knowing all the tea in the neighborhood because of that.
Due to having good relationships with the neighbors. Everytime he asks for help on something such as cooking, or chores. A Lot of people are glad to help him or aid him with his problem. He also likes to talk to you about any recent gossip in the neighborhood. He always gets the bath ready whenever its almost time to get home. 
He will be pouty and sulky if you don't get home in time like you usually do. Running ahead to you once he hears the key clanking and hugging you tightly. You chuckle at this, apologizing to him for working a little bit late. 
“Sorry, I had to work a little bit late,” you awkwardly hugged him back as he hugged you tightly. “Sorry isn't enough you know, I missed you,” osamu nuzzled onto him inhaling your scent as you pat his head.
“I'm sorry,” you patted his head as he smiled, “you have to pay for it in bed tonight so get ready~” 
“w- wait osamu I still have work tomorrow,” 
“Sounds like a you problem~” he smiled cheekily at you as he peppered your face with kisses. You felt your whole face hot as you sigh at this, “fine,” he giggled cheekily. 
He loves spoiling you with food or anything particularly. Because of him being an ex-mafia he has enough money to cost him for life. He could've easily bought a mansion for you but he quite likes the small apartment you two live in. 
Whenever he's out shopping on his own he loves to buy the pretty clothes, or accessories his lover would like. He would secretly put all the gifts in your closet or anywhere you would first see it. He then would go on a rant about how you would look pretty on it once you ask what it is for. 
He loves making you bento's although some of his cooking sometimes looked half burnt or not even cooked well yet. Yet you still eat because it's from your husband. 
He will worship the ground you walk on and will do as you ask. He's like a lovesick puppy following you. His love for you will never falter so just come home and be in his arms where he will give you all his love, make you laugh, and feed you warm food even though it's half bad he hopes you'll like it. Afterall to be a househusband is to be able to make your lover smile and not make them cry a single tear. That is dazai osamu's motto.
His very own way of being a good househusband. 
“Welcome home darling~ would you like dinner? bath? or me~” He greeted you with a smile as you chuckle at this, the brunette male giggling as he saw you, “I made dinner and also baked castella its kinda half burnt though, you dont mind right,” 
“if it's from my husband I don't mind,” you said kissing his cheek, the ex mafia smiled at this. “Good! cmon cmon lets eat, I bet your starving my dear,”
— THE WORRYWART TYPE. 中原中也 | nakahara chuya.
[ “Why did you come home 10 minutes late? Nevermind that, are you hurt? Does your shoulder hurt, your back? want a message, or do you wanna go bath first? or do you wanna eat dinner first? I bought pudding for dessert, worried? of course I'm worried jeez, just go get a bath you stink,” ] 
The classic worrywart type, he worries about every move he does and every move you make, making you sigh in defeat at your husband. The two of you met as cliché as any shoujo manga, under a rainy day and seeing him passed out and injured. Being a good citizen you brought him to your home and tended him. Once he woke up he seemed to have a fever prolonging his stay at your house. Delirious due to his fever he seeked the warmth of your hands. The gentle fleeting touches you give him those days of his illness. 
The day he became not so delirious he became flustered at his past actions saying in a forceful tone to forget about those events. Without knowing it, you two became friends, then lovers, to a happily married couple. Figuring his job is filled with too much violence that may lead you to getting used by his enemies. He simply quit and became a full time househusband in your dainty little home. 
He gives you everything he thinks is best, that's the reason why you two have diamond rings, his love for you is like a diamond, never breaking and always shining. Whenever he feels lonely he kisses the ring placed on his ring sighing as he stops himself from calling you afraid that he'll bother you mid work.
He's quite the best cook too. He makes those perfect bento, neatly done and cooked right by yours truly. He also made those cute character bento like my melody and many more. Once he hears from you that you loved it he heart will swell from pride as he gives you a cocky smirk and the saying, “of course it is good, I'm your husband that means nothing but the best should be given to you.” 
He's quite strict at making your bento, the kind of husband who will make a good diet of your bento. He also memorized all your favorite desserts, food, vegetables, fruit, and what scent you like many more too. He wants the best of the best for you so he'll go all out for it. 
Even if he hides it, he does miss you every time you have to leave for work. Putting on a strong front which you can easily see as he hurries you to leave for work already.
“Did you bring your umbrella? the news said it'll rain you know,” the ginger haired male said as he stood near the door as you put on your shoes, “Yes I did,” he nodded at this.
“What about your bento? Do you have it?” you chuckle at his questions, “Yes I do,” he furrowed his brows seeing your tie crooked, “your tie is crooked wait a minute,” he goes closer to you fixing it loosening it a bit. 
“There, jeez your hair is still messy too,” he sighs at this taking a comb thats hidden in his pocket combing your hair, “there, now go before you get late,” you giggle at him as you began to step near the door as he then took your wrist. Stopping you as he forced you to look back at him kissing you in the lips softly. This caught you by surprise as he took off his lips to your own.
“Have a safe trip,” he says, a small blush coating his cheeks making you smile at him, “Thank you darling.” 
Although he's quite a worrywart and always on you about everything. He has his soft sides too. How he shamelessly shows you off around the neighborhood by his words. At first he was quite cold to them, not speaking a single word only giving them a few answers if they asked him to. 
Although when they started asking questions for his lover he became a little bit ecstatic talking to them showing off how amazing their lover is. Slowly everyone in the neighborhood grew to like him because of this. The auntie's around your simple house were always glad to help you two out on anything. Although you were more on the chattier side your husband was more on the silent side speaking when spoken to. 
He prefers making things for you to show his appreciation. While he does like spoiling you with his riches. He loves it when he,  the things that make you happy. Thus the reason why he took crocheting as a hobby. 
Like dazai, he loves it when it's the weekend because it means your day off and that means he gets to spend more time with you. Which always consists of you two baking, you learning how to crochet to get closer to your husband. You are making him learn more about your hobbies. 
He loves physical affection although quite a tsundere when he's the one asking for it thus him leading to be more on the acts of service type of guy. 
“No that's not how you do it,” you stopped your movements as chuuya pointed out the wrong way you crochet. He goes closer to you as he smiles showing you how it goes, “its like this,” you nodded your head.
“I see, thank you chuuya,” he smiles blushing a little, “welcome and..uhh..d- dont I deserve a reward for that?” at his bold words your eyes widen smiling as you gave him a kiss in the cheek making him huff in pride. 
He's very good at giving you messages, that's why he likes doing them. He loves it when there is a 50% off sale while he is rich from his former job. Nothing beats the feeling of having a 50% off. 
He's a soft man at heart he just builds cold walls that may take time to burn down. Thus the reason why he worries for you a lot. Being a househusband means ensuring your health and keeping you comfortable in this simple life of husband and lover of yours. That is Nakahara Chuuya's motto on being your house husband.
“I'm hooomeee,” you announced feeling drowsy and tired as chuuya walked towards the door looking at you worried, “welcome home, is everything okay? Do you want a massage? Does anything hurt?” 
You smile at him seeing his usual worrywart and dotting self to you, “yeah, I'm fine just tired from work, my shoulder hurts a little bit though,” he smiles, “cmon lets go dinners ready and your bath is ready too, I'll massage you once your done with your bath.”
“your the best,”
“hmp, I know that,” he huffs as you chuckle, “I love you,” 
“I love you too.”
— THE PROTECTIVE TYPE. 芥川 龍之介 | akutagwa ryunosuke.
[ “Did you take overtime again? How many times have I told you to not do that? Do I have to come to work and punch those scumbags to not make you work too much? hmp! its not violence it's about just teaching them a lesson,” ] 
Another classic nagging wife-like of a husband. The first time you two met was a rocky start with him trying to kill you solely because you were tending his injuries you hated how bratty he was saying he doesn't need any help but ended up passing out in your arms. You sigh at his stubbornness and tend to him for the past few days he was unconscious. You knew he was a mafia due to his all black get up and bloody clothes. 
Yet helped him anyways because you just wanted to help him, it took time for him to open up and slowly burn down his tough walls. At Least 3 months of you two being ‘acquaintances’ to becoming ‘friends’ you chuckled at the times he was being cold to you. 
It took a lot of time till you two became lovers to the now husband and lover. Happily married and a small home in a small neighborhood. He's an alright cook, he's not good at it but he takes his time to learn things on cooking via cooking lessons by the neighborhood auntie's who graciously lend him a hand. 
He's popular with them because of how they thought he was an adorable husband for you. Although quite cold towards them the auntie's doesn't mind as they still coo at him. To be frank he didn't know how to be a good househusband.
He sucks at cooking, cleaning, and even being affectionate to you was a struggle for him. Though you didn't mind that, you let him learn at his own pace. Going to the neighborhood asking what laundry detergent is good for this specific fabric, how to iron clothes correctly, and many more.
“F- fuck… not again,” the raven haired male said furrowing his brows as he accidentally put too much force on breaking the egg that the shells wad put on the egg. He sighs as he takes another egg, breaking it not too hard, not too gentle, his eyes sparkle as he did it perfectly. 
“There,” he sighs as you look behind him, smiling and admiring your husband. He's so cute. Maybe you should give him something for always doing his best. 
The reason he quit being in the port mafia was because you like dazai and chuuya. He doesn't want to see you hurt and he especially doesn't want to see you being all worried and teary eyed to him. 
He hates messes, absolutely hates them and bugs too. He almost wrecked the whole house because he used his ability to kill a single cockroach who was flying and dodging his everymove. He was almost as his wits end at the single roach. 
While he has a lot of money due to being an exmafia he refuses to buy expensive ass vegetables and fruits that people overpriced in the mall. Every Time he's grocery shopping he's glaring at any overpriced vegetable, seasonings, etc. he lays his eyes upon. 
He doesn't like grocery shopping solely because he hates picking on which is far more good to have. This cabbage is nice but also this one too. Which should he choose? He always ends up thinking like that which makes him irritated. 
He furrow his brows looking at the two carrots, one in his right hand, seemingly with good color and quality, while the other is far more bigger and good quality. He glares at the carrots in his hands as the other people who feel his strong and intimidating aura.
Not to mention a man wearing all black with an apron and with his bitch face people start to back away in the vegetable aisle. 
Some people also misunderstand him there. How he was asking for the cornstarch flour but forgot what it was called asking the staff for the ‘white powder stuff' and the staff thinking it was cocaine. Thus the many reasons he hates grocery shopping. 
Just like Chuuya he is strict about your diet, he will go above and beyond for your bento's meals making sure everything is healthy there. He kind off has a grudge for electronic devices used for cleaning, like those small bots used for sweeping. 
When you bought that you swore he was about to start war on an inanimate object. He prefers cleaning in the old fashion way saying it's much cheaper and plus he cleans very good due to the neighbors teaching him about the many ways to clean your house. 
Speaking of cleaning because of the cleaning lessons the auntie's taught him in the neighborhood. He became a professional. Everytime you come home you swear your whole house was sparkling due to how clean it is. 
“Oh wow! you really outdone yourself dear,” you said in awe as you look at your spotless house making him huff in pride, “ of course, anyway go get a bath, dinners almost ready,” you nodded your head at his words as he forms a small smile at this. 
He hates it when you work overtime solely because he misses you and also hates it when you overwork yourself. 'If your work ends at 6:00 it ends at 6:00 okay? don't take overtime.' he says glaring at you, sending you off to work making you sweat drop at it. 
He spoils you with gifts while he was out shopping on his own. Passing by stalls and seeing things you might like and giving them to you directly without much of a word. He sucks at making things or being affectionate to you so he hopes these gifts will show how much he loves you. (Which is always expensive by the way, like diamond necklaces, Gucci bags, Prada things and many more.)
He sometimes calls you on work to see if you're okay and if you're doing alright, he can't help but worry for your safety and overall well-being. 
He once intimidated a coworker of yours because they were the sole reason you came home late for a whole week. He's awkward at it but he always tries his best to kiss you, hug you, and hold your hand. He still feels embarrassed for such things but he just needs time to get used to it. 
As for his motto, he truly doesn't know, he just wants to see you happy with him. Smiling only at him and being with him only. Does that count as a motto?
“You have everything you need right?” he asks standing near the door as you nodded your head, “of course,” he nodded, his eyes gazing away from you then back at you. 
You looked at him in confusion tilting your head to the side. As he took a step near you and closing the gap between you two. As his lips got in contact with your cheek. 
“Have a safe trip,” 
You smile at him, “thank you dear, I will,” 
“And don't take overtime got it?”
“Haha! I will not, see you,”
He huffs in pride, the color red coating his face. 
'I can't believe I kissed them like that,' thoughts of a man who has been married to you for years. 
489 notes · View notes
casualhedonists · 3 months
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“slut!” ✧ ˚  ·    .
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pairing: academy!coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: nsfw (18+), sub! and possibly virgin!coryo, handjobs, edging/orgasm denial, degradation, name calling (reader calls coryo a slut) very mild dacryphilia, also v mild corruption kink, overstimulation, also reader gets coryo to taste his own cum idk what else to call it <3
a/n: thought abt calling coryo a slut and this happened <3 i have nothing else to say for myself
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“Slut.”
The word slipped from your lips, smooth like honey.
“What?” His eyes darted to yours. Your hand, nestled in his pants, slowed its movements, and his lips parted in a plea.
“You heard me, Coryo. I said you’re a slut.”
You didn’t miss the ragged breath of air that he exhaled, or the twitch of his cock as you stilled your hand entirely. He whimpered, red faced in shame.
Poor thing. Poor, desperate Coriolanus Snow.
“Who’d have thought? The academy’s brightest star, the golden pupil, putting out on the first date.”
His eyes squeezed closed. You hummed.
“What did we say about that? Eyes on me.”
He obliged.
“This is a date?” He breathed after a beat, brain playing catchup.
“It’s whatever you want it to be, handsome.”
Your hand moved faster as you saw him get more comfortable with the pace; you couldn’t be having that. Not when he’d started to pick up a very vexing little habit of deliberately contradicting any point you made in rhetoric class, glancing over at you with a self-congratulatory grin that had you aching to make him cry.
You'd asked him over to study, which he'd almost fallen for. Led him to your couch, made him believe you'd let him take whatever he wanted, then flipped the tables.
“That feel good? Is it too much?”
“Mm.” Was all you got out of him as you picked the pace up, thumb pushing over the tip.
“So wet for me, Coryo. Like a fucking girl.”
“Don’t-"
“Oh? So you want me to stop? Okay.”
Your hand stilled again, moving your hand as if to take it out of his pants.
“No. What? Don’t… don’t stop. Keep going.”
“You know, nobody’s gonna believe you’re as well-bred as you claim you are with manners like those.”
You'd overheard Highbottom's taunts once. Kept it to yourself, but made the occasional low blow of your own when he pissed you off. His eyes shone in an angry defiance. You stood your ground.
“Please.” He looked at the floor.
“Please what?”
“Please, keep going.”
You smiled.
“Good boy.”
When you spoke the words, he visibly relaxed, but a frown etched across his face when you wrapped your hand back around his cock, but didn’t move it. He looked down, then back at you.
“What?” You blinked innocently.
“You’re not… please. Don’t be fucking mean.” He repeated pathetically.
“I don’t know, Coryo. My hand’s getting a little tired.”
“Because you’ve been edging me for half an hour.” He gritted. You laughed, cruel.
“So dramatic. If you’re gonna be ungrateful like that, then fine. I won’t move a muscle.”
He sighed, ragged and heavy. He didn’t move.
“Don’t tell me you’re shy now. All I’m asking for is a little bit of effort. Fuck my hand, Coryo. You can do that, can’t you?”
His blue eyes bored into yours, but you weren’t falling for his tricks. Your free hand gently turned his chin to you, and you moved in, soft kisses peppering his jaw.
You squeezed the base of his cock a little, enough to make him pull in a sharp breath.
“Move.” you commanded, voice no louder than a whisper, but harsh.
He obliged. Slowly, at first, shame all too clear on his face, but he noticed the look on your face when you glanced down to see his hips rocking up, fucking into your fist under his pants, and lost himself a little more.
He saw the way your legs pressed together sat next to him, hips shifting uncomfortably as he found a rhythm, and lifted his hand to touch your thigh. You batted it away.
“No touching.” you scolded.
“But…” he trailed off, eyes longing.
How cute.
“No buts, either. Are you close?”
He nodded. Shame slowly starting to melt away.
“Good. You can move faster, Coryo. Can you make yourself cum like this?”
He moved faster, and let out a half-laugh, more like a strung-out sigh. As if to say, are you kidding?
“Does that feel good? Use your words, baby.”
You felt him twitch again, wet sounds filling the room as he moved, a cruel satisfaction filling your head.
“Yeah. It feels... fuck.”
“Look at you,” You mused, “Fucking my hand like a desperate slut. You’re this close and I’m not even doing anything.”
This time, when you said the word, he whined. He sounded delirious, and you soaked it up, basked in it. Hungry for more.
He was getting desperate now, needy and careless. Rutting into your hand like a fucking virgin.
You wondered if he was, and it made your torturing him all the sweeter. You let your mind wander, thinking about all the things you could introduce him to. So perfect, so clean cut. You wanted him frayed at the edges, torn at the seams, coming undone for you.
He got loud, whimpers building into cries as you started to move your hand again, tight and mean, brushing over the tip carelessly rough, desperate to see him fall apart. His words were broken and ragged.
“That’s… shit. I think I - can I? Please. I’m-”
He cut himself off, mouth falling open, eyes slipping shut in bliss. You could feel how close he was, hard and heavy in your hand. When his hips gave in, stuttering and tired, you sped up your motions, eyes never leaving his pretty face as he started to crack.
“Cum for me, Coryo. You’ve earned it.”
When he fell, he fell to pieces. You memorised each broken sound he made, every whine and gasp, knowing they’d be replaying in your head for a very long time to come. He came hot and sticky into your palm, and you kept your hand moving until he was trembling from it, until he winced.
You looked back at his face, eyes still shut, and a single tear had slid down his cheek. You pressed a gentle kiss to his open lips, and another to his cheek, tongue dipping out reflexively to trace the tear stain, salty in your mouth but sweet like satisfaction.
He was still catching his breath, and you shifted your hand out of his pants, smirking to yourself as he hissed a little.
You lifted it to his face, your clean hand holding his chin, and the other one bringing two dripping fingers to his perfect, parted lips.
“Now suck.”
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a/n: idk WHO to tag since this is my first coryo fic i’ve posted since attention?? and my tag list is just for attention rn? think i need to do a few separate ones, we’ll figure something out. as always feedback keeps my world spinning around. ily 🤍🤍
1K notes · View notes
youunravelme · 7 months
Text
it's nice to have a friend
author's note: this is a little all over the place, but i saw a tiktok edit of seven by taylor swfit and then thought to myself, what if i ignore all my wips and wrote childhood friends to lovers with a hint of childhood trauma? and this was born. and if the timeline isn't perfect with reality, oh well. i'm but a human girl. also!! if you have ever experienced or currently experiencing abuse, please know that it was never your fault. you don't deserve to be treated that way.
pairing: mat barzal x reader
summary: wherever mat went, you were never too far behind or the one where you are childhood besties
warnings: cursing (as always), mentions of parental abuse and alcholism, tumultuous childhood, drinking, mentions of sex
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there was a saying that floated around in your elementary, middle, and high school days, surrounding you like a warm oversized cardigan.
wherever mat went, you were never too far behind.
the saying could also be flipped, the two of you stuck to each other like glue.
mat, despite not being one for fights, had a bad habit of running his mouth whenever you were concerned. in fourth grade, he used newly learned vocabulary words to berate a girl who made fun of your beat up shoes and nearly got detention for it.
and you had a nasty habit of squaring up with anyone who looked at mat wrong, even if they towered over you.
your friendship worked well because of it.
age eight
you could remember summer days swimming in the pool with mat and liana, laughing as you and mat teamed up against his little sister until his mother scolded the two of you when she started crying.
but there was always a darkness that sat in the corners of your memories like fingerprints that had damaged an old photograph.
you didn't have to try to remember your parents' screaming and yelling at each other, just like you didn't have to try to recall the smell of alcohol on your father's breath. it didn't take any effort to remember the way your hands shook when you locked your room at night and climbed out of a second story window to go to mat's.
you could feel the splinters digging into your fingertips as you climbed the trellis up to his window. you could still feel the way your stomach dropped when you slipped and fell halfway up in the pouring rain, nearly breaking your arm in the process. you could still hear nadia come out and usher you inside moments before mat's eight year old feet came pattering down the stairs.
he didn't even give you time to explain, he just wrapped you up in a hug.
it took you that long to understand it was never raining, it was just tears.
the next week, you found yourselves at the park laying on your backs in the grass.
"what would you do if a genie gave you one wish?" mat asked out of the blue.
the summer sun kept you warm as the breeze kept sweeping in and blowing strands of hair into your face.
"get far away from here."
"would you bring me?" mat asked.
you turned your head to look at him only to find him already staring. "i wouldn't go anywhere without you." and you meant every word, spoke them with as much conviction as an eight year old could have.
mat reached out and squeezed your hand in his own.
"what would you wish for?"
he shrugged. "to be bigger."
you furrowed your brow. "why bigger?"
"so i could protect you better."
age nine
at nine, you and mat were playing cards in your room when the front door slammed. it was like you were on autopilot. of all the times that had happened, mat was never home with you. immediately, you were locking your door and shoving things in your backpack, pulling mat towards the window and climbing out as quickly as you could. the two of you ran to your bikes and biked all the way to an empty field where you collapsed in the tall grass and cried.
mat immediately brought you into his arms, hushing you and running his hand down your braids.
"what if--" he started stopped abruptly to clear his throat. "what if you stayed with me and liana and mom and dad? we could get bunk beds and a night light, if you want, and you wouldn't have to lock the door."
you just sobbed harder into his chest and shook your head.
it's not that simple, you wanted to tell him. but i wish it was.
age thirteen
you never moved in with mat, never got to get the bunk beds, but by middle school, your mom moved the two of you out of your old house. it was then that he started packing two lunches, one for you and another for himself.
things hadn't changed much since leaving your dad in that shitty house full of demons. you still spent most of your time at mat's house (your mom was working). still spent your saturdays going to his tournaments and games. you still cheered him on and let him cheat off your homework on sunday nights.
things shifted though, regardless if you wanted them to change or not. time, you found, never gave a shit about your opinion, thoughts, or desires.
because it felt like just yesterday, you were riding your bikes down the street, racing each other back home.
now, you were helping mat draft msn messages to a girl he had a crush on in your biology class. there was an uncomfortable sensation in your stomach that was comparable to the time you got food poisoning, but you couldn't place a reason for it.
you could paint the pink on his cheeks as the girl replied.
and you would've given anything to be the reason for it.
maybe it was silly, a small crush for the sheer convenience of it all. maybe it was the fact that he'd saved you so many times from the darkness that always seemed to follow you. maybe it was because he was a tether for you, pulling you back when you went too far in your head.
so when he laughed at something she said (which wasn't even really funny), you wanted to go back to the times the two of you would cloud gaze in the middle of the day just so you wouldn't have to be home.
age fifteen
you knew mat was a kind person, knew he was handsome and a good hockey player, that was never in question.
you just didn't realize other girls realized it too.
mat always walked in front of you in the hallways because he could make way through the crowds in ways you couldn't. (he grew like a weed over the summer and while you hated how you couldn't reach things when he held them above his head, you appreciated the way crowds moved out of the way for him).
you were used to him being in front, his grip light on your wrist as he tugged you behind him. you weren't used to walking behind his new girlfriend, chloe, who had the honor of walking beside him.
mat used to tell you how much it irritated him that people would take up so much space in the hallway and make it impossible to move around them.
but there you were, an awkward moving triangle of your best friend, his girlfriend, and you trailing pathetically behind.
chloe was cool. she never felt threatened by your friendship with mat, which might've hurt your feelings if you were delusional. you knew you had no chance with mat, so you'd take him in whatever form you could get him.
lately, that looked like spending time with liana in the stands at mat's tournaments. you would both do your homework before dissolving into gossip sessions while you braided her hair.
chloe even showed up for some games, smiling and cheering as he played. at one game, he scored and came up and tapped the glass in front of you, pointing at you and smiling.
they broke up two weeks later.
age sixteen
you openly cried when mat left for seattle. you were used to times when mat had hockey camps and would be gone for two weeks, a month at a time. but he would be gone indefinitely now.
and leading up to the day he was leaving, you thought it would be harder on you, considering mat hadn't shown anything but excitement. but when it came time for him to leave, he wouldn't let you go.
both of your moms had to pry you apart with promises that he would call and text as soon as he got to seattle.
and he did.
he hadn't even gotten into his new home when he was facetiming you.
you did your best to smile as he showed you around his new place, but your eyes were watering still. he was indefinitely two and a half hours away from you.
"you okay?" he asked when you stopped responding.
you gave him your best smile, but knew he wouldn't buy it. "just miss you is all."
he nodded, eyes going blank for a second before you saw water appear in them. mat wasn't as emotional as you were, and he for sure wasn't as teary eyed as he used to be when you still lived with your dad, but his eyes were watering all the same. "let's just treat it like summer camp," he said. "i'll be back before you know it, and if you need something, you can always call me."
you had no intentions of calling him with your problems, but then your dad showed up at your house screaming and beating the door and calling for your mother while she was at work. the doors were locked, he had no way in, and the police were on the way, but your hands were still shaking.
you couldn't run to his house to hug him anymore.
so you called him sobbing.
he picked up on the second ring.
he was lounging in bed, playing call of duty or something like it. "hey--" he cut himself off and paused his game, jumping out of bed. "what's wrong?"
"my dad," you sobbed.
mat was back in coquitlam in three hours, holding you tight to his chest and rocking you back and forth. you were openly weeping into his shirt, clinging to him. you weren't gonna let him go, and mat wasn't willing to give you up either.
you and your mom spent the night at the barzal's, with her taking the guest room while nadia brought a twin mattress into mat's room under the pretense that you would sleep on it.
you didn't.
everyone knew that you got into mat's queen sized bed and clung to him all night long.
just like everyone pretended that mat wouldn't have to leave in two days to go back to seattle.
just like you pretended like you wouldn't absolutely shatter on impact the second he left your sight.
age nineteen
when mat was drafted to the islanders, you stopped breathing. sure, it was dramatic, but you only moved into vancouver for school.
mat was moving across the fucking continent.
but he came back to seattle, and for a moment, the world was right again.
until he went to new york full time.
and the full weight of his absence hit you like a damn eighteen wheeler.
you'd watch him on the tv, when you used to watch him live in much smaller stands. you used to use puff paint to make t-shirts with his name on it, now they were selling his jersey in the arena he played in.
he didn't pick up the phone as much as he used to. he would respond to your texts days later until you stopped texting him altogether.
you should've seen it coming, especially when you saw him hanging out with instagram models and going out to bars. were you really expecting him to sit at home and wait for you to call him with a panic attack?
you had to get a grip.
so you did.
you threw yourself into your studies, pretending you didn't know his game schedule or stats. and when a cute boy named thomas came along and took interest, you allowed him to get to know you better.
you told him you grew up in coquitlam, that you were an only child, and your favorite school subject growing up was english.
(you never told him that your favorite color was the shade of mat's eyes, that you haven't spoken to your dad since the night your mom left him, or that every night, you fall asleep to career highlights of the best friend you haven't spoken to in months).
you learned he was a business major, something that should've been a red flag, but you were so focused on proving to yourself that you could be loved, that you overlooked it.
you went on dates, had sex, made plans for the future, met each other's families.
but he never met the barzals, despite the fact that you could drive to their house blindfolded.
no, they felt like a precious secret. the world could have number 13, they could have the calder memorial trophy winner, but you would not allow them to have the little sister whose hair you braided, the mother who brought you inside after you wrecked her trellis, the father who covered your scraped knees with bandaids and neosporin when your biological one was drunk at 2pm.
you might have lost mat to the awful curse called distance, but you would not lose his family.
you couldn't afford to lose them too.
now thomas, you lost a month after you turned twenty when you found him balls deep in your freshman roommate.
you went back to your apartment and cried, because it hurt, but mainly because you realized how alone you were. you had no one to call other than your mom or liana. but liana didn't even know about thomas, and your mom was dating a new guy now.
your thumb hovered over mat's contact for five minutes before you locked your phone and just went to bed.
age twenty-three
you were single for a whole year before you met dawson. his brown eyes and salt and pepper hair captivated you.
you were hooked, despite the seven year age gap.
he gave you the number to a good psychologist to help you work through your past and was willing to listen to you talk about it or sit in silence when your therapy session was emotionally exhausting.
he remembered your favorite flowers and brought a bouquet of them to your college graduation and kissed you in front of your mom and the barzals (minus mat, but that was a given at that point).
and on your twenty-third birthday, he proposed.
you said yes while actively trying to forget the dreams you and mat had when you were six.
you were building a fort in his bedroom with thumbtacks and blankets and sheets you'd stolen from around his house. when the project was complete, the two of you found yourselves laying in it, staring up at the blanket canopy shoddily held up by thumbtacks pushed into the wall.
"do you wanna get married?" mat had asked randomly.
"only if i get to marry you," you replied.
mat smiled a toothy grin, it was the only time you remembered him having imperfect teeth, given that he'd just lost his two front teeth. "i thought the same thing!"
and it was the most honest you had ever been. though, that wasn't a strange concept, most people were the most honest when they were either children or drunk. and considering you stayed far away from alcohol (guided by the anxiety in your stomach and the advice of your therapist), your childhood memories held the most truth.
despite not having seen him in years, you still thought of him often. you tried to see if you could remember the sound of his laugh without looking up an interview. you tried to recall the way his hair felt through your fingers.
but you couldn't.
it was crazy how much he meant to you as a child, how you still remembered the order in which he ate his breakfast, but you hadn't spoken to him in years.
you found yourself sobbing at the kitchen table one night as you poured over who to invite to the wedding. liana was a bridesmaid, mike and nadia had to be invited.
but what about mat?
you felt sick to your stomach at not inviting him. when you were in high school, when you'd gotten a grip on reality, you believed he'd walk you down the aisle in lieu of your piece of shit father.
but you hadn't spoken to him in so long.
though you couldn't imagine which would suck worse, not inviting him, or mat rejecting the invitation.
that was how dawson found you, sobbing over photos from your childhood that you wouldn't let him see. and when you tried to talk to him about it, he suggested talking to your therapist.
he broke off the engagement two weeks later. he said he didn't feel "the spark" anymore.
age twenty-four
you'd been out of college for two years now and all you had to show for it was debt and a stupid piece of paper. you were working in a coffee shop ten minutes from your mom's house and wishing you could've gotten out of coquitlam like mat did.
maybe this was your cursed existence, going to the grocery store wondering if you were going to ever run into your father again.
you'd just gotten off your shift at the coffee shop when you stopped by your local grocery store to pick some things up for dinner. it was supposed to be a normal day, but you turned the corner out of an aisle and damn near ran into someone.
"sorry, my bad--"
you looked up and suddenly the earth stopped in its rotation. you hadn't seen in him years but you'd know him blind.
his hands were around your elbows, keeping you upright. his touch almost burned you. it was an uncomfortable feeling, like putting on jeans you loved and realizing they don't fit anymore.
you pulled away, ducked your head, and started walking the opposite direction without another word.
but you should've known he would follow you, like a moth to a flame. or maybe that wasn't the right analogy, you were used to being the bug while mat was the light of your life.
but he followed you like there was a string attached to your wrists and he wasn't used to you pulling in an opposite direction.
he managed to catch up to you in the self care aisle right in front of the menstrual products. any other man you'd known would've shied away from standing in front of the tampons and pads as you deliberated which products to get, but mat's eyes wouldn't even leave your face.
you should've known he was going to come back eventually. you'd avoided seeing him in the offseason pretty well considering you were off doing internships and working out of town in the summer.
but now you were stuck in a dead end job with no passion for anything anymore, feeling more alone than you had ever felt before.
and because nature or god or the universe hated you, naturally, that was when mat showed back up.
when you had nothing to show for the years you didn't speak.
you could see the wheels turning in mat's head as he tried to think of something to say. it was an interesting turn of events that simultaneously sent an ache straight through your heart. when you were kids, he never hesitated to say exactly what was on his mind. now, he was deliberating.
"you wanna come over for dinner?" he asked. "mom's making tomato soup and grilled cheese."
you wished you could've denied him, it would've been smarter in the long run. mathew michael paul barzal could get you to do anything, and you hated that even after all those years, he still could.
you found yourself sitting at his old kitchen table surrounded by his family, dipping your grilled cheese into the soup like you were six years old again.
except the difference now was you were laughing with liana, sitting next to liana, instead of mat.
you'd occasionally meet his eyes from across the table, but it wasn't the same.
when you were kids, you sat next to each other at every opportunity. when you were kids, mat pretended to steal food off your plate. when you were kids, you knew everything about each other.
but you were adults now. and he was effectively a stranger you knew too much about.
after dinner, everyone scattered. you tried to leave, but mat caught up with you.
"what're you doing tomorrow?" he asked.
"working," you replied.
he nodded and looked around. "can i see you?"
you wanted so badly to say no, that you were busy, but as much as you wanted to pretend that he didn't, mat knew you better than anyone else, even if he had been absent for five years.
you ended up going for a walk in the park the next day, deciding that getting dinner wasn't worth the headache of mat getting recognized.
his hands were shoved in his pockets with a baseball cap pulled down low over his face. if you were brave enough to look over, you could still see his eyes taking glances at you.
"how's your mom?" mat asked, immediately jumping into topics you'd planned on ignoring.
you shrugged. "fine."
he nodded and scuffed his feet along the sidewalk. "how have you been?"
"fine." you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. you didn't mean to be cold, you meant it even less when you looked over and saw mat desperate for connection with you again.
in the end, you could never really deny him anything he wanted.
"life sucks right now," you admitted. "feel like i've wasted my life away here."
mat nodded along. "didn't you say your genie wish would be to leave?"
"i think my words were to 'get far away from here.'"
"you know," he started. "new york is far from here."
you couldn't help yourself. you looked up at him and saw the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "are you being serious?"
he nodded. "as a heart attack."
could this be the moment? the moment your life suddenly comes back into color? things haven't felt right since mat left for new york, and maybe moving, being with him all the time, would fix whatever existential crisis you were currently having.
the two of you were packing up your childhood room a month later .
you were on a flight to new york city two days after that.
mat was bouncing on his toes when he picked you up from the airport, having come home a few days early to get his apartment set up.
"you have to meet tito," he said as soon as the both of you got in his car. "you'll get along just fine. my childhood best friend meeting my other best friend? things couldn't be more perfect!"
you smiled though you felt like dying inside. no wonder you two lost touch, you were too ashamed to message him and he was too busy befriending his entire hockey team.
the apartment itself was large. larger than you could've ever afforded, even in coquitlam. mat brought your bags to your room and gently placed them on the floor.
"do you need any help unpacking?" he asked.
maybe a bitter part of you wanted to say no, but you'd waited for this moment for years. you nodded and mat's face lit up like a christmas tree.
while he was putting your clothes away in the dresser, he told you about his team, about his career, and all that you missed. he tried to ask about your life, but you kept up the story that nothing much had happened to you. and for the most part, you weren't lying.
you hadn't spoken to your dad, you hadn't dated anyone seriously in the last year (you conveniently left out the failed engagement. you just got into town, and couldn't afford a plane ticket to fly back to coquitlam just to bail mat out of jail).
but mat was more than content to listen to your work stories from when you were working at the coffee shop. he asked questions along the way, and momentarily, it felt like everything was headed back to normal.
you shooed him out of the room so you could shower. it was kinda incredible how a nice apartment meant that his shower was better than any other one you'd ever had growing up. when you stepped out into the nicely updated bathroom and changed into some gym shorts and a t-shirt, you felt the full weight of your insecurities hit you all at once.
your mat lived down the road from you. he had a twin bed until he was fifteen when his mom could no longer ignore the way his ankles hung off the end. he had posters of sidney crosby hanging up on the walls of his bedroom.
but this mat had expensive bathrooms and egyptian cotton sheets. you didn't get to see it yet, but you were willing to bet he had state of the art kitchen appliances that he didn't fully understand how to use outside of making eggs.
you were fully ready to walk into the living room, where you heard mat clicking through what must've been streaming services (because he could afford all of them), and tell him moving here was a mistake. too much had changed, he didn't know you anymore.
but you walked out and saw blankets and sheets strung up, pinned to the walls with pillows on the floor.
almost on cue, mat's head popped out from the makeshift fort, a bright smile on his face. "i don't have bunk beds, but i thought this would be a nice alternative."
you could've cried. you almost did.
but you sat down on a pillow and watched a movie with him instead.
two months later
mat had introduced you to anthony the second week you lived in new york. anders and matt you met the next week. the rest of the team you met over the course of the two months you'd lived with mat so far. they were all nice, and you could see why mat was so enthusiastic about his job, his passion for the sport aside.
you met his "not-girlfriend" as tito called her the day before. ashley was nice enough, but clearly not in the same tax bracket as you, who had recently gotten a job working at an indie bookstore while you worked on grad school applications.
you pretended to be too busy to notice the ache in your chest when he held her hand, remembering chloe and the nasty sensation internally of insecurity bubble up. you weren't dumb enough to not know you were jealous, insecurity was a closer friend than mat was, you'd known her longer.
and if comparison was a sport, you'd be making more money than he was at this rate.
because if it wasn't the way ashley laughed, it was her smile, or her stomach, or the gap between her thighs.
or the fact that mat looked at her with something more than a savior complex.
you stupidly agreed to go out to a bar with him, ashley, and a few islanders that night. it was dumb, you knew that going in, but you were finally with mat again, why wouldn't you spend every free moment with him?
it turned out to be a mistake.
you were left sipping a diet coke by your lonesome while he was dancing with ashley. you knew you shouldn't have done it, it was a bad idea, but you found yourself at the bar asking for a shot of literally anything the bartender would give you.
but anthony slid into the seat next to you a beat later and fixed you with a knowing look. "where's your diet coke?" he asked.
your mouth dried up when the shot was placed in front of you. your heart was pounding and for a moment, it felt like you could've thrown up.
when you didn't respond, anthony nodded and stood up. "wanna go take a breather?" and he sounded so genuine that your eyes immediately welled up with tears as you nodded.
the two of you walked outside and stood in the cool air, letting the wind hit your wet cheeks.
you looked out onto the street while anthony texted on his phone. "do you want to go home?" he asked as soon as he slipped his cellphone back into his pocket.
you shrugged. "i don't know what i want."
that was a lie. you wanted to go back to a time where mat was just your best friend, before he was number 13 for the islanders, before he won the calder memorial trophy. you wanted your best friend, the one who raced you down the neighborhood streets on bikes, who drove three hours to see you when you had a panic attack.
you wanted a childhood that wasn't tainted with the darkness of your father's mistakes. you wanted to be able to go into a room and not immediately check if you could lock the door. you wanted to be able to fall asleep in a dark room without being deathly afraid.
mat was outside a second later, huffing and puffing like he'd just run a mile. his gaze was fixed on you almost immediately, while he ignored the way ashley hung off of him. "what's wrong?" he asked. he even went as far as to pry ashley off of his body so he could frame your face in his large hands.
in the corner of you eye, you saw anthony usher ashley back inside while you and mat had a staring contest. "what happened?"
you shook your head and tried to speak, but more tears spilled out. mat nodded and pursed his lips before grabbing your hand and walking you home.
he didn't say anything else until the front door shut behind you. you had no intentions of staying in the common area, you just wanted to curl up in bed and cry yourself to sleep out of shame and pity.
"what were you doing at the bar?" mat asked before you could go anywhere. "you still had diet coke in your glass."
your throat seized up at feeling caught, but you stood your ground.
"i didn't think you drank," he continued. "mainly because--"
"because my dad's an abusive alcholic? yeah, you don't need to tell me that, mat, i already know."
"so if you know that, why did tito see you order a shot from the bartender?"
you threw your hands up in the air and shrugged. "i don't know, mathew. why do you invite me to bars when you know i don't drink?" he didn't have an answer. "you don't get to shame me for considering having a drink when a bar is the only place i get to hang out with you during the season!"
"that's not--" but he cut himself off. "what're you talking about?"
"i hardly see you! why did i move across the continent if i have to go to a scary place just to spend time with you?"
"i--"
"i mean it's not fair, you left and now i have to pay the consequences of it--"
"i'm sorry, what?"
"you left--"
"i heard you. did you forget the part where you stopped contacting me?" you rolled your eyes to keep yourself from crying even more. "uh uh, don't do that. don't blame me without taking accountability for this friendship ending."
you blinked.
but mat wasn't done. "because i always called you back when i missed your calls. you were the one who stopped texting me."
"you were too busy!"
"i'm in the nhl! did you expect me to just be laying around my apartment all day? i have practices and meetings and games at weird times, but i always made sure to get back to you."
you said nothing, the tears welling up behind your eyes, but you kept them in. the verbal lashing from mat was enough, you didn't need to further embarrass yourself by crying too.
he kept going, yelling and waving his hands around, occasionally pacing and dragging his fingers through his unruly hair.
but you zoned out.
you could hear glass bottles rattling as your father came up the stairs. you sat on your bed, hoping to god he'd just keep walking. mat was out of town for a tournament, and you were grounded.
your dad stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at you. your heart was racing in your chest and you wanted nothing more than to text mat, but your mom had your phone. "what're you lookin' at?" he slurred.
it was only 1pm.
and your mom was still at work.
but he apparently didn't feel like bothering you because he turned into his bedroom and shut the door.
you could feel the air release from your lungs before you went back to reading your book.
but the peace never lasted long. thirty minutes later you could hear him yelling and screaming obscenities before he opened his door. you launched yourself out of bed and slammed your own door shut, quickly locking it with an efficiency you'd learned at a young age. the door handle rattled and you flinched backwards, nearly tripping over clothes on the floor.
but you weren't a stranger to this situation.
you opened the window and climbed out.
but he was ready for you this time because he was at the front door screaming at you as you rode away on your bike.
you didn't stop pedaling until you got to the park where you collapsed on the grass and cried.
something in your face must've changed, because mat stopped yelling and looked at you, really looked at you.
"hey," he said, voice much quieter than before. "where'd you go?"
you shook your head, tears falling down your face uncontrollably.
"don't do that," he said. "don't shut me out." mat took a step closer to you, but you immediately stepped backwards. he breathed your name, but something in his eyes shifted, like he could read your mind. "i'm not him," he whispered. "i'm not your dad, i'm not going to hurt you. you know me, you know i wouldn't do that."
"you left," was all you could say.
mat nodded. "i did, but i didn't leave you, okay? i would never leave you." he closed the distance between you and held your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the constant flow of water from the corners of your eyes.
"but--"
he shook his head. "no, you mean too much to me to leave you, okay? you're my best friend. if you had called me and needed me? i would've been there as soon as i could."
"you would've been too busy--"
he pulled back, a bit bewildered. "when have i ever been too busy for you?"
you held your tongue, knowing that it wasn't him per se.
"what is it?" he asked, his eyes searching your own. "what aren't you telling me?"
so you told him about how you hadn't talked to your dad, and even though you were thousands of miles away, you were still scared he'd find you and ruin your life even more. you told him about thomas, about how you thought he could be the thing that fixed you, but he cheated on you.
you told him about dawson, who was older and more mature. you told mat how dawson got you going to therapy which you thought was a good sign, until you realized he never actually wanted to talk about your bad days. he proposed, you said yes, and then he broke off the engagement when he saw you sobbing over invitations.
your eyes were too blurry to see the way mat's jaw clenched, but you could feel him pull his hands away.before you could even stop yourself, you stretched out for him, but he was just out of reach.
"mat, what," you weeped. "what's wrong?"
"you were engaged?" he mumbled. "you were engaged and didn't tell me?" you expected him to look mad, but the only thing reflected in those deep brown eyes was hurt.
"that's why he broke up with me, i was crying over childhood photos while trying to figure out if i should invite you even when we hadn't talked in years." you shrugged pathetically and gave mat a watery smile. "guess he thought it was too immature of me."
mat's hands were clenching and unclenching by his side, like he couldn't decide what he wanted to do with them.
"please don't hate me," you whispered. "i don't think i could handle it if you hated me." but he didn't say anything, mat just resulted to pacing the living room. "i think my dad fucked me up beyond repair." your eyes never left his profile. if he wouldn't look at you, that was fine, you'd continue to stare at him. "i think i'm too codependent and messed up for anyone to love me." mat's head snapped up at that comment.
"i mean," you continued. "i wasn't enough for my dad to get sober, i wasn't enough to not get cheated on, i wasn't enough for someone to marry me. maybe it's not them. maybe i'm the issue."
"no," he said immediately, shaking his head in the process, crossing the room until he could pull you into his chest. "no. that's not true."
"yes it is! my dad doesn't love anything more than alcohol--"
mat cut you off. "anyone would've been proud to have you as a daughter."
"thomas wanted my freshman roommate--"
"thomas was an idiot."
"dawson couldn't handle me when i wasn't happy--"
"fuck him too. he was thirty dating a college student."
"and you left and i--"
mat pulled you back far enough to look you in the face. "and if i could do it all over again, i'd take you with me." he pressed his forehead against yours. "here's what we're gonna do, we're gonna make a fort and watch the mighty ducks. and tomorrow, we're gonna find you the best therapist money can buy and set up an appointment because i don't like you talking about yourself this way." your stomach twisted at the idea of therapy, hesitant because of dawson-- "and i wanna hear as much as you're willing to tell me, okay?"
you nodded.
"now, i need to see you smile so i know we'll be alright." you gave him a watery smile right before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "there she is."
you held onto each other for another minute before reluctantly letting go to gather blankets and pillows.
four months later
you hadn't been able to make it to many of mat's games until tonight when they played the devils at home. you sat with sydney and grace and their kids.
earlier that night, you'd gone to your therapy session and cried your eyes out. after years of feeling like you weren't a human being worthy of love, you just started seeing value in just existing.
and mat was as supportive as ever. he gave you space after therapy sessions to process until you were ready to talk to him, if you wanted to. the two of you made plans to hang out at cafes and central park rather than at bars every weekend.
"look at your man go," grace nudged you with her elbow. "he's feeling good tonight."
"i'm sure it has everything to do with you being here," sydney commented. "i've never seen that man more in love than he is right now."
you could feel the heat crawl up your neck as you shook your head. "he's my best friend."
"a best friend who loves you so much, he's willing to keep things platonic for your sake."
almost immediately, an insecure thought popped in your head, but you stopped it in its tracks, imagining the thought on a conveyor belt, moving down the belt until it was out of sight completely.
your shoulders relaxed.
you deserved to be loved, and it if was mat, great.
if not, you'd still have him as your best friend.
a buzzer sounded through the arena and a quick glance at the ice told you all you needed to know. mat was skating into a cluster of his teammates, smiling wide before pointing up at where he knew you were sitting.
grace and sydney jostled you around a little while fans, male and female alike, screamed at the idea of the mat barzal pointing at them.
when the game ended (5-4 with the islanders win), you followed sydney and grace down to the locker rooms. you met up with the other wags and smiled when they greeted you. some chatted and passed time while others rocked babies in their arms. you however were anxiously looking through your photos on your phone, specifically the album labeled mat that you'd had since you'd first gotten an iphone. you didn't glance up until you hear the sound of doors opening.
mat was the seventh person out, not that you were counting. he wore a bright smile when he saw you standing there and immediately crossed the distance between the two of you to wrap you in a huge hug.
"how was therapy?" he asked.
you rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. "why do we always talk about me?"
"because i care." he lightly nudged your shoulder. "so how did it go?"
"it was good, actually," you remarked. "figured out and accepted that i deserve love."
if it was even possible, mat's smile got wider. "yeah you do."
"and maybe there are people waiting around for me to figure it out..." you trailed off before shyly meeting his gaze. and before you could stop yourself, before you ran out of courage, you stood on your tiptoes (like you've been doing since he hit his growth spurt in seventh grade) and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.
you lingered for a moment before pulling away and loooking up at your bewildered best friend whose mouth was wide open.
"what?" you asked. "did i read that wrong? sydney and grace said--"
"that's all i get?" he asked. "i've waited for this since i was six years old and i don't even get the real thing?"
you furrowed your brow. "what're you talking about? six years old?"
but mat was leaning in and capturing your lips with his own. "six year old mat had the biggest crush on six year old you," he said.
"and what about twenty-four year old mat?"
he kissed you again. "head over heels for you."
age twenty-six
after a less than stellar playoff run, you and mat headed back to canada for a portion of the off season, mainly to visit family.
but it was also nice to get out of new york, even if it was just for a short period.
in hindsight, you should've known something was going to happen. your mother, nadia, and liana took you to get your nails done and to grab lunch while you were out shopping. but you were so caught up in how nice it was to be back home (words you never thought you'd ever say), you paid no attention to the lack of mat time.
so when you walked into the backyard of his parents' house and saw a giant projector screen with blankets and pillows strewn about to make yet another fort, you almost cried.
mat's head popped out from the middle with a smile on his face until he saw the tears in your eyes. "why're you crying baby? this is supposed to be happy!"
"i love you" was all you could blubber out.
mat laughed to himself, taking your hands in his own. "i love you too baby." he knelt down and the tears kept coming down your face. "ever since i was a kid, i thought i'd be the one walking you down the aisle to the man you'd marry because i never thought you'd be crazy enough to fall in love with me."
you scoffed. "i'm definitely the one batting out of my league here, mathew."
"don't talk about the love of my life that way," he said before continuing on. "we've gone through a lot together, and i couldn't imagine getting through life without you by my side." mat took a deep breath. "so tell me, do you wanna get married?" mat asked.
you nodded through your weeping. "only if i get to marry you," you smiled.
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mhahaikyuus · 11 months
Text
Shelves
tags:; bakugo x reader, established relationship, fluff, reader being type A and so is Bakugo, domestic fluff, minor injury, small arguments, pro hero bakugo x reader, cuddling
a/n: posting this bc i haven’t posted in forever hope you enjoy, reblogs appreciated
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You were sitting in your living room reading a book as your boyfriend came back from an early Saturday shift around mid day to your shared house.
While he was gone you had received a package at your doorstep. Heavy furniture packaged in a big cardboard box at your doorstep.
You had planned for your boyfriend to be home to help you move it two bookshelves for the living room.
However it started to rain and you didn’t want the package to get wet, and you were independent grown woman, you could move a box.
So you spent 30 minutes moving a box about the size of a fridge up a flight of stairs, through your doorway to the living room.
While you were moving it you definitely pulled something in your back. Now laying on your couch your lower back in pain.
Katsuki came home to you laying on the couch and a giant box in your living room. You knew he would cuss you out for hurting yourself when you could’ve called him to move it.
“I’m back y/n-“ He stopped looking at the box bigger than yourself standing in your living room, “The delivery guys put it in the living room.” He interrupted himself assuming wrong.
You hummed in response not wanting to say yes or no.
“Okay I’ll put it together tonight.” He said
Leaning down to kiss you. You met him halfway with a small wince and smiled in that kiss.
“I can do it later, I just want to lay down right now.” You said falling back on the couch.
“No I’m doing it.” He said. He hated how independent you are. Wanting you to rely on him but you never fully could always making excuses.
“Fine.” You sighed. Katsuki leaned down to give you a kiss again and reached around to drag your forward.
You gasped in pain as he held onto your lower back.
“What’s wrong.” He said pulling back quickly with a frown looking at your body. Thinking he had hurt you
“Nothing.” Trying to move his hand but Katsuki wasn’t budging. Vermillion eyes narrowing
“You’re lying.” He said and he pinched your back making you whimper.
“Ow. Ow. Ow. Okay.” You said
“What did you do.” Katsuki asked, his hands on your hips holding you.
“I moved the box… myself.” You admitted and his eyes narrowed.
“What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve called me. That box is bigger than you.” He yelled as you threw back your head at his scolding of you knowing it was because he loves you.
“You had patrol. And I can do it, I am fully capable of doing things by myself
“You could have called me. You know I would’ve come back to move the box.” He said with a frustrated look. “Why didn’t you call me, you never call me. I’m your boyfriend I’m supposed to do it. I’m supposed to open jars for you, move heavy objects, and fix things for you. Let me do it. Now you’re hurt.” He said
“It’s fine I’ll be okay just a couple of days and my back will be fine.” You lied to comfort him.
“Don’t lie to me, how bad does it hurt.” He said concerned
“An 8,”
“Jesus-“
“Calm down.”
“No next time you need something call me or I’m gonna lose it. I don’t care if you don’t feel like walking and you call me to carry you up the stairs. You call me.” Katsuki said. “What kind of boyfriend am I to have you throwing out your back to move something.”
“The kind that saves people for a living and loves me when I do stupid things like hurt my back.” You said with doe eyes you knew that made him melt. Bringing him in by the back of his neck for a kiss.
Pressing his forehead to yours and rubbing his face, his favorite action of yours. Never truly getting mad at you when you loved him.
“Did you call a doctor? You could’ve slipped a disc, or-“
You laughed at how anal he could be. “No I did not, I will be fine in a couple days.”
“How do you know that?” He asked
“I swear you are just as stressed as Izuku.” You said kissing him.
He grumbled rubbing your leg, “Don’t compare me to shitty Deku. I worry because I love you and you are a moron.”
“You’re best friends for a reason, and I am a moron that loves you and I’m going to ask for your help right now.”
Katuski ignored your first comment, “Is that so?”
“Yes because I need you to help me walk to the kitchen. I’m hungry and I’ve been stuck on this couch.”
Katsuki picked you up by your armpits and walked you to the kitchen with your legs wrapped around his waist.
“How was patrol?” You asked
“Great. I love fighting with a bank robber when my girlfriend is injuring herself because she won’t pick up the phone to call me.” He said with an attitude all you could do was roll your eyes.
“How long are you going to be mad at me.” You said tugging on his blonde hair. He grunted at your hands handling him.
Katsuki sat you gently on one of the chairs. Standing in between your legs, both arms caging you, and dropping his head.
“I’m not mad at you, im pissed that you won’t call me. Being a pro hero isn’t going to kill me you are.” He grumbled and you laughed.
“What do you want to eat?” He asked pulling away to cook for you.
“Whatever you want to cook.”
You sat in the kitchen as he cooked and you tried to help.
Trying to open a jar and your boyfriend gave you the dirtiest look.
“What did we just talk about.” He said wanting to snatch the jar out of your hand.
You held it out to him.
“Cut me some slack, please. I am used to being independent for as long as I’ve been alive.” You said
“We have been together for almost a year now. And I am here now for you. So relax please. I like taking care of you.” He said grabbing your hand and giving it a kiss. “We bought the house to be together and I can baby you.”
“You are such a sap.”
“The headline yesterday was “Dynamight’s Rage.” He replied his back turned to you cooking one of your favorite meals.
“Yes you’re so scary baby.” You sarcastically said
Both of you knowing that he had a temper and could terrify anyone. But as scary as Katsuki was he was far more scared of you when you got in your moods.
Katsuki finished cooking for you, placed you back on the couch, and made you sit there as he built the bookshelves.
He opened the box with a tool kit and instructions. You sat on the couch eating the food he made. The living room covered in styrofoam packaging and cardboard.
Even after a grueling shift, your boyfriend had cooked you a full dinner and was assembling shelves just for you.
You were type A and liked to be in control and do things yourself. Bakugo was also type A and trying to build it as you tried to control.
“No baby it’s screw A that’s screw H.” You said reading the instructions he threw.
He didn’t listen to anyone but you got half an ear.
“I know what I’m doing I don’t need the instructions.” Bakugo griped.
“I’m serious, please do it right. My books are my babies.” You complained.
“Woman you already injured yourself, can you let me do this.”
“If you did it right then I wouldn’t be complaining.” You shot back.
He let out a huff ignoring you continuing to build.
After the third time of him doing something you didn’t like you got frustrated.
Getting up off the couch, Katsuki heard you move not even turning.
“Get back on that couch before I strap you down.” He said not looking up. His red eyes focused on the wood planks.
You continued to move off the couch with a wince and Katuski turned around from the floor narrowing his eyes.
“Ass back on the couch. Now.”
“You’re not doing it right.” You whined halfway up.
He stood up his big body towering over you. Guiding back to the couch.
“You are a control freak. Sit down before I lock you in the bedroom or in the car to drive you to the hospital.” Katsuki threatened sitting you back down and throwing a heavy blanket on you to hold you down.
He was always so gentle with you even when he was ticked off.
After about an hour he saved the last bookshelf for tomorrow to cuddle you in bed.
“I told you I knew what I was doing.”
You hummed at his cockiness. He had given you some Advil and was gently massaging your back in your bed. You trapped in his big arms, your chests touching. His thick fingers gently pressing against your lower back.
“You like being my superman huh?” You said into his chest.
“Superman? Screw him I’m your Dynamight baby.”
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ericityyy · 5 months
Note
Hello dear, i dont know if your tired of young sheldon requests but if you are im so sorry, i promise that for future requests it will be another fandom. But i was just thinking about georgie with a female reader where she is very protective over missy and makes sure she is not forgotten or less than sheldon, which george finds very cute.
Thank you so much
𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭
𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘈 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥.
𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚: 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘎𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺
𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 600
𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
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“Y/N, do you think I can join the baseball team?” Missy asked with an insecure look on her face. She’s been meaning to join the baseball team for some time and was about to talk to her father about this, but then she decided to consult Y/N first.
Y/N stopped putting nail polish on the younger girl’s feet to look at her. Missy, although she may always seem fierce, doesn’t change the fact that she’s still a little girl who sometimes doesn't get that much attention from her parents. The attention most of the time is to scold her.
Don’t get Y/N wrong; Mary and George are great parents, but a lot of the time, they don’t have much trust in Missy and Georgie, and for good reasons too since most of the time, the two of them have been troublemakers. However, that doesn't change the fact that they feel inferior to Sheldon due to how their parents treat him. It has always been Sheldon who gets most of the attention.
“I think if that coach won’t let you in the team, I’ll go there myself and give him a piece of my mind.” Y/N finished polishing Missy’s nails, looking proud as ever seeing the girl’s beaming smile. “You are great with the sport, and if he can’t see that, then that old guy must be having some sight problems.”
Missy teared up at her words. She has always treated Y/N like a sister, even before Georgie and she started dating. Y/N always had Missy’s back, when Mary praised Sheldon or when George made comments about Georgie and Missy being less than Sheldon.
Missy doesn’t have a team. Not until Y/N came.
“You always are so kind to me.” Missy sniffled, causing Y/N to coo at her, bringing the crying girl into her arms. “Thank you for being here with me when I need you. You’re my team.”
Y/N pulled away from the hug to wipe the girl’s tears away, giving her a warm smile. She then stood up and grabbed a baseball bat before throwing the ball softly at Missy’s bed. “How about you and I play some ball before you go to your tryouts?”
The two girls didn’t notice that Georgie was at the doorway, leaning, "Well, aren’t you two sweet?”
Missy and Y/N turned at Georgie, the former standing up from her bed and grabbing the ball before running outside her room shouting, “Come on, Y/N!”
Y/N laughed at the girl’s enthusiasm, then turned to her boyfriend, who was smiling at her, and asked, “What is it?”
Georgie shook his head, standing up straight and walking toward the girl, who had a baseball bat on her shoulder and a hand on her waist. Georgie, at this point, decided that he was deeply in love with her. “Nothing.” He put his hands on her waist. “I just love how you’re always there for my sister; you have always protected her, and I love you for it.”
The boy kissed his girl’s cheek, noticing the slight pink hue appearing on her skin as he smirked playfully. He still has that effect on her.
“Well, what can I say? I’m the big sister she never had. I am what you call a sister by heart.” Y/N proudly, albeit teasingly, put a hand over her chest where her heart is, closing her eyes with a smile on her face. Georgie rolled his eyes, despite the chuckle that left his lips.
"Yes, you are, darling. Yes, you are.”
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𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄
hi, i’m sorry this is short but i can’t really think of anything else. but i hope you like this though :>
i’m also fine with the georgie requests!! but yeah i do wish i get to write other fandoms though… it’s okay though!! i enjoy writing georgie cooper imagines!!
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nastyaromatherapy · 7 months
Text
"Can't handle myself" (18+)
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After killing yet another person, Ethan can't handle himself around you.
pairing - ghostface!Ethan Landry x fem!reader
short, 969 word dark fic
warnings: non-con, dark themes, PIV
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"Ethan, we really shouldn't," you started, desperately trying to go against his advances. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and your stomach felt like moldy Jell-O. Ethan just killed someone, the third guy this month. He was unphased, blood splattered on his mask and clothes. You on the other hand, were frantically hiding all of the evidence.
"Why not sweetheart? I thought you liked the mask," he said, gently stroking it in his hands as if it were his child. "I do. But I don't like fucking on the same dirt you killed a man on!" You screeched, gesturing towards the dismembered body. You slightly felt a gag build up in your throat.
"You know I'm irresistible," he whispered in your ear, caressing your hips, his hands moving up to your waist. Ethan had this thing where whenever he killed someone, his ego goes from zero to one hundred. Really fast and really fucking hard.
You grimaced at his manic breath, tapping fingers at your side anxiously. "Come on," he coerced. "I'll have you screaming for me in minutes."
You met Ethan through a friend, Quinn. He was her dorky younger brother that you guys would poke fun at and laugh about during sleepovers. That was until one day, you two grew attracted to each other, and started to see each other behind Quinn's back. It didn't take long for her to find out though. Her and your other friends.
It didn't take long for you and Ethan to lose your virginities to each other, not long for Ethan to follow you to your college. It took no time at all for you to find out about him and his wicked family's little secret.
Quinn knew how livid Ethan would be if you were to ever leave him. She betrayed you that day. Blackmailing you on your birthday to stay with the young man. You were young yourself.
Your stomach twisted in a familiar way as Ethan touched you, feeling over your body. He started to kiss at your neck, but you pushed him away. Ethan looked at you worriedly and wiped his slobber covered lips. "You okay, babe?" You shook your head and threw up your arms. "No! Nothing is okay. Can you at least get rid of the fucking body before doing this." Ethan just shook his head. "But you're so sexy baby, I can't handle myself."
He overpowered you and bent you over the counter beside the bathtub where the chopped up body laid. "I'm sorry ma. I really can't." You internally rolled your eyes. Of course he could. He ripped a hole in your leggings for an opening. "Ethan!" You scolded, again trying to get up but he held you down. "Sorry," he repeated again. "I'll get you a new pair. How's that sound?" He asked tenderly.
"Horrible," you muttered to yourself.
His hands hooked your panties aside and got a feel for your folds. Dry. He leans in and spits on them, making you clench. "Just making you slick for me, baby," he says as a response to your jolt.
"Ethan please, just stop," you whined. You were clearly not at all in the mood. A dead, rotting body was the least sexiest thing ever. He kept going anyways, slipping two fingers into you. You responded with a grunt.
"This okay?" He asked you. "No, it's not." You said firmly, again making your way up only for Ethan to push you back down on the cold surface. He leans down to kiss your neck and takes out one finger. "There, better," he whispers. That was clearly not what you meant. He thrusted the finger, his ring, in and out at a slow and steady pace. Your breaths got heavier as you tried not to make eye contact with your mirror reflection.
After about five minutes of fingering with no response from you, Ethan gets needier. He takes his cock out, it was red and extremely wet. You gasp when you sees it in the mirror. "Ethan, no. We can't. I got off of my birth control." You say. It was true, but you knew he would be disappointed due to his breeding kink.
"What? You're playing with me." He says, smiling obliviously. You shaked your head, assuring you were not. He sighs and looks very disappointed, and you see his cock twitch as he thinks to himself. "It's okay," he says, turning you on your back and lining himself up with your entrance. "I'll just pull out!" You shook your head as the tip comes in contact with your pussy. "Ethan I don't trust you, stop- Ethan!" You screamed when he pushes into you anyways.
"I'm sorry baby, it'll only take like six minutes okay," he huffs out while thrusting shallow thrusts. "Then I'll pull out and you'll be good, okay?" Your eyebrows furrow in fear. "Ethan, let's just quickly go to the store and buy some protection okay? Just don't, I know you," you plead, aware of his horrible pull out game.
"J-just trust me," he stuttered out, already feeling close. You didn't get what pleasure he found in this. You were clearly uninterested and not even wet. His thrusts become slower, deeper, and you could feel him pulsating inside like a heartbeat. "Fuck I'm close," he whispers, falling forward with his hair covering his eyes. "Ethan fucking pull out right now," you beg with tears in your eyes as you hear the victim's roommate's car approaching. "I-I can't," he whispers breathily. You shake your head a no, using your feet to try and push his tall frame away.
"Fuck!" He screams with a final thrust, filling your cunt with his cum. "Ethan," you shakily let out, choking on tears.
"Babe, where are you? The craziest shit happened at work today!"
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Text
If no one will say it, I WILL. Sekido got an ass like… it’s not big but it’s not small….
Am I going to write about it.. YES.
Sekido with a Touchy S/O
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Sekido doesn’t understand why you’re very touchy with him, and it pisses him off because you always say “You should know.”
It kinda pisses him off, every once in a while when he’s off minding his own business then you come and get a grip of his butt in your hand.
He stops whatever it was he is doing, taking a moment to process wtf just happened.
As soon as heard you giggling to yourself and hugging him from behind, he was happy it wasn’t anyone else, or else he would’ve killed them in an instant.
Once you hugged him, he looked at you from the corner of his eye then plucked you in your face, which you “cried” about and he just scolds you for touching him.
Even when you plead that you won’t do it again he believes you, but instantly regrets it once you get handsy with him again, which ends with him plucking you again but hard this time.
He minds it a lot he doesn’t, just let him know before you do it at least.
It was night and you decided to accompany Sekido and his brothers on a hunt, because you all were hungry. You was walking by your boyfriend, as he was telling you about their mission. You purposely started to walk slow, now walking behind him responding with “Uh Huh” “Okay” and “Yea” leaving him and Aizetsu talking. While you we’re checking your boyfriend out, eyes on his ass, you feel a hand on your shoulder which it belong to Karaku. “Checking your boyfriend out I see? That’s something new Y/N~” “Can’t really help myself when he looks pretty.” You we’re tracing his curves with your eyes, drawing them out. He was really pretty, even when he’s actually angry. You were snapped out of you thoughts when your boyfriend got your attention. “Jeez, what’s with you now. Did you not hear a single word I said?” You shook your head no which caused him to sigh furiously, Karaku and Urogi to burst out laughing. “You know what…Just come, you we’re going to come with me anyway.”
You were both on a tree, looking at the village you both were going to destroy. You also heard a hashira was going to be there too, so it would be fun. While Sekido was telling you the plan, you went behind him and put your hands on his waist which caught him off guard for once. “What the hell Y/N? What the fuck are you doin-“ he couldn’t finish what he wanted to say, you grabbed his ass giving it a squeeze. For once he was at a lost for words, just what we’re you thinking..Doing this on a mission? Sekido was blushing, not a lot to the point where you can’t see it. His body felt hot and fuzzy, just what were you doing to him..“Oh I can’t wait until we’re done with this mission. Once we head back, I want to explore you even more…”
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Im sorry this had to be done..Im already starting the part 2 also
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lilacsinjuly · 6 months
Text
゚.*・。゚☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆゚.*・。゚
➸ DAY SEVEN: PSYCHO KILLER.
゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*
summary: Inspired by the 'Scream' movies - After recieving a threatening phonecall one night and being attacked by a killer wearing a ghostface mask, you realise he'll stop at nothing to have you - sorry, they.
CW: fem reader, murder and violent descriptions, ghostface! gojo, ghostface! geto, consensual sex, p in v, mentions of bullying, crying, trauma, 'slut', 'sweetheart', 'princess', oral - both m&f recieving, fingering, mouth fucking, threesome, dom! geto, gojo & reader are both switches.
word count: 8.3k
likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.
masterlist.
゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*
A few days ago, you were alone in what used to be the comfort of your own home, but what was now a building you couldn’t step foot in without the ever present feeling of dread washing over you.
Simply, you had been watching TV, enjoying your own company, when suddenly, your telephone erupted to life as the noise of its ringing echoed off the walls and alerted you incessantly.
Groaning, you reluctantly got up from your comfortable position on the sofa and shuffled over to where you kept the telephone.
Picking it up, you hit the answer button, despite not recognising the number.
“Hello?” you voiced, curious to who was ringing you during the dark hours of the night.
“Hello.” A dark voice returned. It wasn’t one you recognised, causing your curiosity to be peaked as you prodded for further information.
“Who is this?”
The voice on the other end was quick to reply, though it wasn’t the answer you were hoping for. “Who are you?”
Rolling your eyes, you smirked at his teasing tone, although you couldn’t really tell whether that was just how his voice was. It was low yet incredibly attractive.
“I asked you first.” You replied, returning his mischievous tone and making him laugh.”
“I apologise, I must have gotten the wrong number.”
“Don’t worry about it, it happens all the time. Bye now.” You said before hanging up the call and laughing slightly to yourself as you thought you heard a quiet ‘wait’ from the other end, though you weren’t positive considering the phone had been away from your ear at that point.
Before you could walk off and back to the comfort of your sofa, the phone began to ring again. Rolling your eyes, you once again reached over to answer, letting out an annoyed greeting to the person on the receiving end.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I just wanna get to know you a bit better. You gotta boyfriend?” 
The same voice from the previous call. You were surprised by his forwardness and slightly hesitant to reply considering you had no clue who he was. However, you saw no other reason not to play along with his games.
Laughing gently, you replied. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t really like the guys at my college.” 
He let out a hum of understanding. “What, you don’t like your college?”
“Just the people. I have my two best friends, but other than that, everyone else kinda sucks. They treat me like shit but I don’t have it in myself to care anymore.” You scolded yourself mentally for admitting that to a stranger and making yourself seem so vulnerable, yet there was something so familiar about the voice on the other end that made you feel like you could open up. 
It was true, however. The people that surrounded you at your college were consistently filling your ears with remarks that were laced with an unjustifiable hatred and yet said like you had all been nothing but friends for the past year. Their rude comments disguised as jokes.
Nevertheless, you had no issue brushing it off. You knew the reason they hated you was because they either wanted to be friends with Suguru and Satoru, your best friends, or be with them, all while they had found themselves attached to you - and only you. Completely uninterested in anyone else’s advances. 
Of course, they were friends with everyone. Yet they were never hesitant to cancel plans and ditch others to hang out with you - which only furthered everyone else’s hatred. 
You didn’t think that they knew of everyone else’s torment, considering everyone was so nice to you whenever you found yourself in the company of Gojo and Geto. You preferred to keep it that way, not wanting to bother them with something so small.
Unbeknownst to you, however, they knew. They knew about every insult thrown in your direction and it annoyed them endlessly - both just as desperate to do something about it yet they knew if they insulted people back, those same people would only blame you and hate you even more.
You met both Gojo and Geto in high school.
At first, you paid no attention to either of them. Truthfully, you would have preferred it if they had left you alone. However, as determined as they both are, they only latched onto you more. Overtime, you became more used to their company and your curt responses became wholehearted laughs and endless conversations. 
The pair would do anything for you - and you could sincerely say that feeling was mutual.
“I could make it all go away sweetheart.” He replied. His words were ominous, confusing and left a sudden striking feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach, like you could feel the blood-thirsty, malicious intent behind his words impaling you like a knife through your stomach.
“What do you mean?” You whispered, taken aback and suddenly apprehensive and cautious.
“Let me ask you a question… What do you think,” he paused, and for a moment, you could have sworn you heard the sound of steel against steel on the other end of the call, which caused your heart to speed up and images of knives impaling your skin to flash into your mind. It irritated you that he’d ask questions but never answer them. “… about scary movies?”
He wasn’t serious, was he? Was this an attempt to scare you and trick you into believing that he was about to murder you? Well, he had certainly picked the wrong victim. Even despite your previous slip-up, you were a lot stronger than he must have thought.
You scoffed, muttering a quick yet dismissive ‘very funny’ before hanging up and walking back over to the sofa. Though you wouldn’t deny the fear that coursed through your veins and the prominent tremble in your hands.
His words were replaying in your mind like a broken record as your head spinned with all the meanings behind his gruesome statement. 
Before you could sit back down again, the phone began to ring once more. Your fear only increased with each loud ring of the phone and you were stuck on what to do about the situation.
You could call your best friends, yet at this hour, they’d most likely be asleep. Besides, if you were to tell Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru that you thought a serial killer was stalking you and tormenting you over the phone, they’d have laughed in your face. At least Suguru would have given you a sympathetic smile with an almost mocking ‘good luck’.
No, you were fine. To tell the truth, you wouldn’t have been surprised if the so-called serial killer was Gojo or Geto pulling a prank on you. And if it was, you’d undoubtedly scold them for it later and ignore them until they made it up for you in the form of all your favourite foods.
You let the phone ring until it automatically ended. Yet, whoever was on the other side of the call, was incredibly persistent and committed to talk to you.
Growing more and more frustrated you picked the phone back up, bringing it to your ear before threatening whoever it was.
“If you don’t stop calling me, I swear to god i will-“
“Shut the fuck up and listen.” He responded, cutting you off and silencing you immediately. Swallowing deeply, you were far too scared to continue your threat and instead opted for listening to whatever demands they had. “Good girl. Now, I want you to come and unlock your front door. You wouldn’t want to displease me, would you?”
Your eyes widened. He was outside of your house, waiting for you to open your door, most likely so that he could slice you open. Yet, a wave of realisation washed over you followed by one of relief.
So he couldn’t get in? This was perfect, he had unknowingly given you an opportunity for you to escape. 
You ran over to the window and peeked through the blinds to check if he was by your door, letting out a sigh of relief when seeing that he wasn’t before sucking in a shaky one when it registered that you had no idea where he actually was which would make escape far more difficult.
“If you try to escape, I will gut you. I can see your every movement from right here, so just open the fucking door.” 
You wanted to call his bluff, but decided it was a waste of breath. 
Hand hovering over the lock, you contemplated opening it as you had no idea of what his motive was and whether or not you had greater odds at surviving if you attempted to sneak out now. 
Before you could make your mind up, your feet had decided for you, running towards the back door and unlocking it in order to allow you to force it open.
To your dismay, you couldn't get one foot outside the door before you were yanked back forcefully by your arm and thrown to the floor.
All you could see was a figure dressed in all black with his back to you as he shut the door and locked it once again before throwing the key into your bin. Watching him turn around felt like the longest wait of your life, and when he did, the sickening feeling in your stomach increased at the sight of his terrifying mask. Its eyes were sunken and its mouth was hung open as though it was screaming.
Suddenly coming back to your senses, you scrambled back and quickly got up, running to the kitchen to grab a knife in defence as the masked killer stalked behind you.
From behind the kitchen counter, you aimed your knife at him in an attempt to get him to stay away from you. “How come you needed the door open if you were already inside?” You asked, not really expecting a response but needing one nevertheless. 
You were met with a simple shrug before he began walking towards you again, pace quicker than before as he completely ignored the weapon you possessed.
You swung at him but he dodged, grabbing your wrist and gripping so tightly that you let out a scream in agony before dropping the blade to the floor - the sound echoing throughout the kitchen as the steel met the cool tiles. 
Taking your knee, you aimed for his stomach and put all your force into making the two meet, causing him to stumble back and grip onto his stomach in pain. Forgetting your weapon, you aimed for the front door.
Fiddling with the lock, you struggled to get it to open because of your trembling hands.
Looking back you saw him gripping onto the doorframe, staring at you with nothing but what you perceived as murderous intent deep within the black holes of his mask.
You cursed, giving up on the door when you remembered that you had left your bedroom window open earlier. You were screaming for help, hoping that whatever small chance there was that someone was outside at this time of night, it would be someone brave enough to help you.
Stumbling up the stairs, you felt a hand on your ankle pulling you down.  There was a loud thump followed by a pained groan from your lips when you hit your head on the stairs.
His gloved hand was on your arm and he turned you over. You stared up at him for a few moments as he hovered above you in thought, seemingly conflicted on what to do next. Taking the opportunity, you used your leg to kick him off you and continued to run up the stairs. He followed you up and through the hallway with more frustration in his heavy steps.
Running, you attempted to slow the masked killer by pushing random objects from their place and into his path but your efforts were futile. He was able to dodge them all and continue to follow you undisrupted.
He finally grabs you before putting the knife to your throat. You struggled in his grip, screaming for help and thrashing about as though being irrational would save your life. The knife began to trail down the side of your face and down your body. He cut one of the straps from your top, causing you to whimper in fear of what else he might do.
His gloved hand ran up the side of your arm in a prolonged, teasing manner before wrapping his hand around your throat resulting in your mouth widening as you gasped. It was strange how his grip wasn’t nearly as strong as it would have had to be in order to kill you when he was clearly here to take your life.
Your entire life was flashing before your eyes.
Suddenly, the sounds of sirens rang prominent through your street and pulled up outside your house.
You let out a choked sob in gratitude for whatever god had brought the police to your house and saved your life whilst tears streamed down your face.
The ghostface killer, on the other hand, looked less than pleased, evident by the grip that he had on you beginning to tighten.
You could hear his breathing through his mask as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, whilst simultaneously bringing a voice changer to the mouth of his mask. “Until next time, princess.”
There was something so strangely familiar about his teasing tone and flirtatious nickname, yet you couldn’t quite place your finger on how you recognised the way he spoke.
Snapping out of your thoughts, you realised that you were no longer in the arms of a murderer, but being shaken out of your daze by a police officer.
゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*
Now, a few days later, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of death looming over your shoulder.
You constantly felt like you were in danger and you were having a hard time trying to leave behind that night's incidents, especially when you closed your eyes and saw that ghostly face and were woken up after feeling a hand wrapped around your throat.
It turns out, one of your neighbours had heard your screams and had decided to phone the police - to which you were extremely thankful for. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t be able to sleep until the killer was caught.
Currently, you were at a party you had been dragged to reluctantly by your best friends.
They were far more lively and sociable than you and had somehow convinced you that coming out was beneficial for your gradual deteriorating mental health after the attack you had suffered. You had tried to argue, stating that ‘just because they hide all their feelings behind stupid parties and alcohol doesn’t mean you have to as well.’
However, they, especially Gojo, were very persistent and wouldn’t leave you alone until you had begrudgingly accepted.
Lights flashed throughout the house and bodies pressed against each other tightly. All you were trying to do was make it to the less cramped kitchen in order to free yourself from feeling like you were suffocating.
The entire night, the same people who mocked and ridiculed you everyday of your life were giving you false sympathy and support which only made you feel worse. They were only doing it to look good as they had never cared about your feelings beforehand.
Still, it enabled you to be able to come to this party which whilst you weren’t entirely thrilled to be there, you were curious to see what it was like without the boundless whispers.
Finally, you made it to the kitchen and when you saw a flurry of white hair accompanied by the tied back, black hair, you let a smile creep onto your face as you approached them.
Gojo noticed you first, a wide grin appearing on his face when you locked eyes. He took you into a tight hug, squeezing you with such sincere comfort that you could have broken down in his arms right then and there. “How’s my favourite girl doing, huh?”
“I’m fine.” You said, laughing gently at his affection. 
You turned to look at Suguru, who had a plain annoyed look on his face as he shook his head at you. “Yeah because you look fine, princess.”
Rolling your eyes at his nickname, you suddenly felt a pang in your chest. You felt as though you were missing something - like there was something so obvious right in front of you that you were just too blind to see.
The two boys glanced at you, then to each other and then back at you once more when they noticed your unexpected stupor.
Feeling a flick on your forehead, you looked up and saw Gojo looking at you over his glasses with a concerned look on his face.
“Seriously, I’m fine.”
Once again, they looked at each other, not convinced at all by your statement. 
A silence hung over the three of you for a moment, and during that moment, everything was oddly quiet. 
The music had faded yet the people around you were still dancing and drinking like they weren’t feeling the fear that was engraved into your skin. Not even Suguru or Satoru had noticed the shift in the air that was consuming you and strangling you, and they went through every emotion you experienced right there with you. 
The pair simply nodded each other before excusing themselves and giving you one final hug before exiting, leaving you to drown in your emotions without a lifeguard to help you come out of the water.
You stood in the kitchen with a drink in your hand and alone with the toxic company of your own thoughts for what felt like centuries when the power seemingly went out without warning. 
The music stopped flowing through the room and bouncing obnoxiously off the walls, and everyone’s enthusiastic cheers and shouts became confused murmurs and quiet chatter.
You assumed it was some asshole trying to scare everyone and simply scoffed at their attempt. It was either that, or someone had drunkenly managed to cut the power out. Nevertheless, you shrugged it off as not a big deal and waited for it to come back on.
However, when it did, your heart dropped at the sight - and even more so at the sound of laughter as everyone turned around to look at you, so much for fake sympathy.
Stood on a table in the middle of the room was some guy with a similar mask to the one you had described to everyone. The same lifeless, black eyes that melted down the mask’s face and the warped scream sketched onto it. 
Their attempt was pathetic really, especially when they hadn’t even gone for the full look and donned their regular clothes in place of the outfit the killer was wearing.
Still, you were pissed off. 
Whoever it was was staring right at you, pointing a knife in your direction and shouting dramatically some shit about killing you. You weren’t entirely paying attention, moreso figuring out how you were going to leave when so many people were blocking your path.
“Fucking attention whore just dying for everyone to shower her with sympathy. I’ll fucking kill you–” He was cut off suddenly, everyone’s laughter dying down as they turned their heads in his direction.
There was a red colour spreading through the material of his shirt, yet no one had truly registered what had happened before he collapsed on the table and revealed an actual ghostface mask - wearing a void of black.
His eyes scanned the room before they met yours. Tilting his head, he waved at you before lunging for his next victim.
Everyone was sent into a state of panic as they all rushed for the door before someone called out claiming that it was locked. Sounds of screaming could have been heard from miles away. 
You searched everywhere for Gojo and Geto but couldn’t see them anywhere, instantly, your mind went to the worst possible scenario. However, realistically, you knew it would take a lot to kill just one of the two, let alone both of them. They had probably gone out for more alcohol, the thought of them being alive made you relax slightly, before tensing back up again after realising the situation you were in.
You ran through the house and pushed through the cluster of bodies in an attempt to find somewhere you could hide.
There was a part of you that understood the masked killer was after you and that maybe, the rest of these people would have a chance at survival if you turned yourself into his possession. There was a deeper part, however, that didn’t want to save their lives. You never wanted to hear their mocking laughter ever again. You wouldn’t admit it though, not even internally.
You had no idea how one person was managing to kill so many people so incredibly fast, yet it had only been half an hour of dodging bodies and swapping between hiding places before most people were either dead, or had managed to escape. It was tricky, yet as the party was held at Gojo and Geto’s shared home, you knew your way around the first floor pretty well. 
Admittedly, you had no idea how people were managing to escape. Especially now that the murderer was blocking it. 
You had already checked all the first floor windows only to find them locked. 
There were bodies everywhere, blood staining the floor and lifeless eyes watching your every quiet move.
At first, watching people get killed off one by one was horrifying and you had to place a shaking hand over your mouth to prevent your choked sobs and gasps from making any noise that may draw attention to you.
Each body was so brutally violated, not only from the vile acts committed by the killer and his knife, but also from the scrambling bodies treading mercilessly over bodies in order to escape, leaving them mangled and unrecognisable by most.
The entire scene was truly horrifying.
Currently, you were panting heavily against the wall, the ghostface killer just around the corner from you, evident by the stomping of his boots and the sound of his breathing through his mask. 
Taking a peek around the corner, you saw that same mask of death that haunted you since the moment he broke into your house and you were consumed with insurmountable hatred and rage. 
However, when you quickly turned back around so that he wouldn’t see you, you looked to the right of you down the corridor and saw another one staring at you with a knife in his hand.
There had been two all along. That must have explained how he was both in your house and calling you from outside at the same time - and why he asked you to open the door.
His finger ran over the blade as he tilted his head at you before he gradually started to inch closer and closer to you.
The sound of his boots hitting the blood-soaked floor screamed at you to run, yet for a few moments, you struggled to understand how there were two and how you were going to get yourself out of this situation.
The ghost-faced figure dragged the sharp edge of his knife along the wall as he began to make his way towards you.
You snapped out of your petrified daze and made a quick turn towards the staircase behind you, without thinking about the second ghostface that stood right around the corner. Although, after the realisation when you heard the second pair of footsteps trail after you, you couldn’t find it within you to care as your mind was set only on escape.
You had been to Gojo and Geto’s house before, but you didn’t have the entire blueprint plastered onto the back of your eyelids and it’s not as if you had any reason to go upstairs so really, you had no idea where you were going.
Struggling to breathe, you grabbed onto the side of the wall for support as you looked back to see where they were.
Both of them were practically strolling as they made their way past the stairs and through the long corridor. It pissed you off to no extent to see them sauntering behind you as if catching you would require minimum effort and like they had all the time in the world.
“Cocky assholes.” You muttered, before beginning to run again.
Reaching the end of the hallway, you panicked and turned to enter the room to your left in order to check if there was a window that you could have escaped from. With every passing moment, your heart began to race faster as your options thinned.
Barging down the door, your eyes widened at the sight of a window in the room in front of the bed and you were overcome with the feeling of future safety. 
There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in your rushed steps towards the window as you reached out to it in order to pull it open. 
Your heart sank at the feeling of resistance from the window. No matter how hard you pulled, it wouldn’t budge. Was it locked?
Looking around the room, you took note of how it was most likely Gojo’s due to Geto’s more simplistic taste. You darted towards his drawer, rummaging through his things in a desperate attempt to find a key to unlock his window with. You slammed your fist on his desk and kicked it aggressively as tears fell down your cheeks at the disappointment and fear you were filled with after realising you had no hope of escaping.
The sound of the door creaking open sent shivers down your spine and you were convinced you could have thrown-up at the looming feeling of death peering over your shoulder in anticipation. 
You whimpered in fear as you scrambled to get as far away from the pair as possible, backing yourself into a corner in the process which only allowed them to get closer and closer to your trembling body. 
You were fucked.
They had you cornered. They were going to kill you. Right after you were convinced you had managed to escape, you were about to be slaughtered mercilessly by two psychos in ghostface costumes, just like the poor victims you had watched get killed brutally before yourself.
You slid down the wall in the corner, accepting your fate. Still, you refused to completely give up.
Mustering up whatever was left in your lungs due to your breathless state, you screamed for help as loudly as you could. It had worked a few nights before, so it wasn’t completely futile, you had managed to convince yourself.
Although you were losing hope, you didn’t want to stop fighting. You didn’t stop when he had you pinned against your stairs or was holding a knife to your throat, so you wouldn’t stop now. 
Gojo and Geto had to still be alive. Amongst the mass of dead bodies, not a single one looked like either of theirs. They were around, probably looking for you, you just knew it.
So, you shouted their names at the top of your lungs as you sobbed. “I swear to fucking god, my friends are gonna get here and kick your asses.” You managed to choke out.
One of them laughed involuntarily, forgetting to use the voice changer. You refused to believe how recognisable that laugh was until he slowly reached up to remove his mask - strands of snowed hair falling into place.
“You hear that, Suguru? She’s gonna get her best friends on us. How cute!” Satoru exclaimed, that same smile that would, under any other circumstance, force a smile out of you as well.
Your head snapped in the direction of the ghostface next to him, refusing to believe Suguru would take any part of this as well.
Nothing but sorrow and grief filled your heart when he too removed his mask to reveal your other best friend underneath it, as though the two men you cherished and loved with your entire heart had died and in their place were two psychos simply borrowing their bodies to torment you or punish you for whatever you had done to deserve such grief.
“What the fuck have you two done?” was all you could let out. “You killed all those people. You- you’re fucking psychopaths!”
Suguru looked genuinely surprised at your anger, as though he wasn’t expecting it. Truthfully, he wasn’t. He knew you’d be angry for the whole attempting to kill you thing, but everyone else? They hated you, so why did it matter? Afterall, everything they had done was for you. It was all according to their plan. 
Your anger irritated them a bit, how could you be so ungrateful? How couldn’t you see that everything they had done was for your benefit? It was clear what their motive was now, wasn’t it?
“So fucking ungrateful. You hated most of these people and so we killed them for you.” He defended, vexation laced into each syllable.
“For me?” You muttered, eyes wide with disbelief, your breathing out of control. “You can’t use me as an excuse, I didn't ask for any of this!”
Suguru simply leaned back slightly, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he shook his head at you before letting out a low chuckle. Gojo looked equally as amused.
“Really? Not after that fucker humiliated you? Not after everyone sat and laughed at your trauma after pretending to be so supportive of you?”
Quickly, you added on: “Trauma you gave me.” Gojo and Geto simply ignored that part as if your mental health was simply collateral damage and that what they have given you is bigger than what they took from you.
“I saw relief in your eyes today. Relief that now they’re all dead, you can live happily. You’re pushing down how you really feel because you're ashamed but, sweetheart, you don’t have to hide it from us.” Suguru continued, kneeling down to get on your level the same as Gojo as he smiled at you and took your cheek in his hand - you hated how you didn’t even flinch and you were disgusted at how you leaned into his warm touch. He laughed. “I mean, you think we’re gonna judge you after being the ones to kill them?”
You hated this. You hated how they killed all those people and used you to justify what they had done. You hated how that meant your hands were stained with their blood. You hated the feeling inside of you that lurked beneath the hatred - the one of freedom and ease.
You hated how right Suguru was. 
Tears trickled down your cheeks. You were filled to the brim with revulsion and self-loathing.
“Fuck she’s crying, Suguru. Aint she so hot when she cries?” Gojo said, his eyes swarming with adoration and excitement. One of his hands went to wipe the tears of your cheeks as he tutted sympathetically. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ve got you now, yeah?”
You couldn’t stop yourself from nodding whilst you bit your lip to try and stop more tears from slipping. 
Once again, Suguru was the one to speak up, Satoru too entranced with how you looked when you cried. “Here’s what's gonna happen, sweet thing,” His voice was soothing and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and rest your head on Gojo’s calming hand which was running his thumb over your cheek. “The reason we attacked you first was so that the police would feel more inclined to believe you. You’re gonna tell them the killers got away and that you didn’t see their face, okay? We might have to hurt you a bit, but we’ll do the same to ourselves, is that okay, sweetheart?”
Letting out a shaky breath, you nodded. You couldn’t believe what you were doing but you refused to lose Gojo and Geto and despite all evidence pointing against them being amicable and not just feeding you lies so that they could kill you later, you wanted so desperately to trust them and have them by your side forever. 
And when you noticed the way Gojo’s eyes were lingering too often on the tear of your shirt which revealed more of your chest than before, your mind began to race with thoughts of being theirs.
But, that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? So what if Gojo’s eyes were lingering, it was to be expected of him, really. He’d always tease you flirtatiously and stare at you shamelessly, but you took that as Gojo being Gojo. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the teasing and staring though.
However, this was the first time your mind had run with the possibility of being with either of them, and you had never noticed the tingling sensation within you when either of them so much as grazed your skin until this moment.
The night's events had brought around something dark and untouched within you - something that forced your eyes to wander to whatever part of their skin was exposed and your mind to ponder what was underneath the rest of it.
Both of them stood up and offered their hands to help you stand as well - to which you took both. 
Gojo, however, thought it would be funny to tug you into him far too hard, causing you to stumble into his chest. Luckily for him, that was the final string that needed to be snapped in order for you to make your own move and prove to them how devoted you were to the pair. Prove that no matter what crimes they committed - you’d be on their side.
“If the two of you wanted to fuck me, you could have asked without making me think you were gonna kill me in the process.” You stated bluntly. The pair both looked at you with an equal amount of disbelief - Gojo being the first to respond to your offer rather eagerly as he pulled you further into his chest
“Oh yeah? My girl would have said yes, hm? Such a slut, wanting her best friends to fuck her.” His voice was darker and lower than before, yet it was much more different (in a way better way) to the voice he would use when he put on his mask. “Plus, where’s the fun in just asking to fuck you?”
Geto came up behind you after snapping out of his daze of doubt, pressing himself up against your back. He immediately noticed the way your body reacted, nudging yourself into him, wanting to get as close to the pair as you could. “Well, why don’t we then?”
Your hand went to Gojo’s chest for stability as he looked down at you with that same cocky smirk and those bright blue, lust-filled eyes. “We- We can’t here! Some people got out, they've probably told the police, and I think having sex in a house where there are dead bodies rotting downstairs is kinda suspicious.”
Geto tutted disapprovingly. “What, after all we’ve done for you tonight? You don’t wanna make it up to us?” His hands roamed your hips before moving to your thighs. In a way that sent shivers throughout your entire body, one of his hands slowly went to creep in between your thighs and under your skirt before it brushed briefly over your clothed pussy. 
You whined so quietly that they could only hear because of how close they were to you. 
Suguru started to kiss down your exposed neck - making it harder and harder for you to stick to reason and wait until you had left.
Satoru, on the other hand, had his hands wherever he could touch you. They skimmed across your breasts over your shirt and down your hips. His face got closer to your own, his breath fanning your face as he nudged you with his nose before connecting your lips.
They were so painfully persuasive it killed you.
“O-okay-”
You could barely get out the last syllable before they had you thrown onto Satoru’s bed.
Whilst Geto was closer to the headboard, Gojo was on the end of the bed and had you crawling over his lap and his tongue shoved deep in your throat as Geto’s hands roamed your body and began to peel off your clothes. 
At some point, you found yourself helplessly making out with Gojo, completely bare as they were. You were so lost in the intoxication that was Satoru’s lips you hadn’t even been able to comprehend either of them removing their clothes or your own.
Your hand trailed across Gojo’s lap and slowly to the base of his dick before taking it in your hold, causing him to groan into your lips and for you to rub your thighs against each other in anticipation.
Breaking the kiss, you bring your hand up to your mouth and spit before bringing it back down to slowly start pumping Gojo’s dick. Your thumb swirled around the tip, teasing it slightly before you reconnected your lips with his - not before examining the dumbfounded yet amazed look on his face.
His hand went to your face and cupped it gently, deepening the kiss whilst moaning and cursing shamelessly into your mouth as he praised you for how good you were making him feel.
Suguru had moved to the side of the two of you, watching peacefully as he took his own dick into his hand and moved it slowly - content with just watching the scene unfold.
Your pussy was dripping so heavily it began to drip down the side of your thighs. Geto couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight as he wanted nothing more to bury his head in between your thighs. However, for now, he was happy to examine every move you made and analyse every sigh from your lips.
You and Gojo were all over each other, placing your lips wherever they’d reach, leaving marks and bruises on each other and jerking him off so teasingly slow it had him cursing at you and filling your head with threats of everything he’d do to you once his dick was inside of you. You simply shrugged off every word that left his glossed lips. 
It didn’t take long for Suguru to become impatient, along with yourself who was becoming particularly frustrated with the lack of stimulation and attention on your pussy - or that's what you thought anyway. If you had so much as looked in the direction of Suguru, you would have noticed the way his hooded eyes were stuck on the way your pussy looked from behind. Unfortunately, your attention was strictly on making Gojo regret every teasing remark he had made in the past. 
“Don’t be so greedy, Satoru. I’m here too, you know.” He said, before sitting back against the headboard and pulling you onto his lap instead of over Gojo’s - the latter who pouted slightly but showed no sign of retaliation.
Instead, he opted for going over to you with the most devilish grin on his face which caused you to swallow nervously and in regret at teasing him for so long.
Suguru radiated with dominance and control whilst you and Gojo fought each other for whatever Geto had left of it.
Suguru’s large, veiny hands trailed up the bare skin of your body, his fingertips were cool against your warm flesh.
You could feel the way he was desperately holding back, so taking things into your own hands, you pushed back on him slightly, earning a deep ‘fuck’ spilling from his lips as his hands squeezed your hips in a warning. 
Satoru was now kissing your thighs, leaving marks littered across the flesh as a sign of proving who you belong to - who you’ve always belonged to even before you realised it.
His soft lips hovered over your soaked pussy, but before he could tease, Suguru gave him a warning glare, to which Satoru simply huffed at the blatant ‘favouritism’ as he would call it (However, Suguru doesn’t think he could ever choose between either of you). 
Geto’s rough hands went to part your thighs in order to give Gojo some room.
Gojo’s tongue glided through your folds and grazed over your clit, causing you to attempt to buck your hips up to meet his tongue, however the grip Geto had on you was firm, making your attempt seem pathetic.
Then, Geto took his hand and forced you to look to the side of you in order for him to capture your lips. You gasped and whined into his mouth when Gojo shoved two of his fingers into your gaping hole whilst his tongue circled your clit.
“Tell me,” Geto started, his lips now barely an inch away from your own. “Who else has fucked this cute pussy, hm?” 
His hand on your hip intensified its hold at the thought of someone else having you. 
Your face felt warm, not liking where this conversation was going. “U-uh… Well there was Tom but that was it.” You admitted, feeling hot all over.
Suguru hummed in understanding, before turning his attention to Gojo whose tongue was lapping at your dripping pussy like he’d been starved. “Satoru, did we kill him or not?” He asked in a similar tone to which you would ask someone the time. 
Reluctantly Gojo removed his tongue from your messy cunt, although his fingers were still pumping viciously inside of you making you squirm and whine. He looked up at the ceiling, face scrunching as though he was lost in thought. “I think so… yeah. Yeah we did. I remember ‘cause he started begging for his life and shit.” Satoru laughed like it was an inside joke or a past memory of something lighthearted and funny. “Was he that pathetic when you fucked him?”
You couldn’t even concentrate enough to answer him. All you could do was writhe and moan in pleasure as he fucked you dumb with just his tongue and fingers. So instead, Suguru answered for you. 
“Shit, bet he couldn’t handle a pussy like this, hm? You seriously let that guy fuck you when we were right there, sweetheart? Shit, I’m not happy about that, princess. What do you think, Satoru?” His eyes never left yours, his lips never moved further away.
“Think she’s a slut for fucking such a loser. I also think that I should have saved his death for last, just so he could watch us fuck her brains out like she deserves - like a slut deserves.” He replied before diving straight back into your pussy as though he could get drunk off the taste.
Geto simply chuckled at his words in agreement. 
With every passing second and every flick of Gojo’s tongue, you became closer and closer to your release. Your hands went to thread themselves in his hair and tugged slightly at his snowy stands before whimpering chants of ‘I’m so close.’
Yet, you really shouldn’t have teased Gojo earlier. After all your years of friendship, you should have understood that whatever you give to him, he’ll get you back ten times harder. And he did, with an approving nod from Suguru - you swore they could read each other’s minds.
Seconds before you reached your high and succumbed to the euphoric feeling of Gojo’s tongue and fingers playing with you so nicely, he pulled away - ruining your orgasm and leaving you confused and crying.
Geto simply shushed you, running his thumb along your thigh in a somewhat soothing manner as you squirmed around and pressed your thighs together, aching for some semblance of friction or pleasure.
You sobbed and begged the pair but they both ignored you remorselessly, in fact, Geto seemed more disappointed in you for not seeing that coming.
You could feel the satisfied grin plastered onto Gojo’s face as he pressed his lips against your thighs and muttered faux apologies against your skin. 
“I’m so sorry, baby. You’ll forgive me won't you? Couldn’t help myself, I mean, really. Did you expect to get away with teasing me like that earlier? Now you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you, princess?”
However, no amount of apologies was making the frown on your face disappear. So, in order to change that, Gojo once again had you in his hold, flipping you around so that you were now on your hands and knees in front of him whilst he rubbed his dick between the fat of your ass cheeks.
Suguru’s dick was right in front of you, and you looked up at him with pleading eyes, so desperate to take him into your mouth and make him feel good. His eyes always seemed to soften around you as they did now whilst he nodded at you gently - as if he hadn’t just taken part in killing half your classmates.
Your hands went to grip his thighs before you started to lick and suck on the tip of his cock.
Satoru was spreading the fat of your ass, gawking at how beautiful you were before taking one of his hands and slapping your ass roughly.
You jumped, whining around the tip of Geto’s dick causing him to groan before pulling your head back to look at him with annoyed eyes and pouty lips. Gojo simply shrugged and said: “We did say we’d have to hurt you a bit, right? How else would they ever believe us?”
Before you could counter his dumb remark, Geto’s hand guided your head back to his cock before shoving it past your lips - unwilling to wait any longer. He shifted, getting onto his knees so he could begin to fuck your mouth ruthlessly.
On the other hand, Gojo was still teasing his dick through the folds of your pussy. However, he could only last so long before needing to feel the tightness of your cunt around his dick, so steadily, he pushed the tip of his dick inside of you causing you to moan around Geto’s cock.
Suguru couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your mouth around him. He was desperate to see you gagging and bawling around his dick because you were struggling to take him - yet he knew you’d take him without complaint. 
Soon, the sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room. You couldn’t speak, all you could do was whine and slobber around Geto’s dick as both of them bullied their thick cocks into you mercilessly. 
The way the veins on Gojo’s dick dragged along your walls had your eyes rolling back into your head and his hand began to slip down to your pussy and play with your clit - willing to see you through your impending orgasm this time.
Your thighs and the sheets are drenched, everything they did was simply making you wetter and wetter.
Geto’s hand rested lazily on the top of your head, not pushing you down but keeping it there as a reminder of where he needed you the most. “Fuck, sweetheart. Doing so well for both of us. We gotta switch later, Gojo. You have to feel her mouth.”
Gojo nodded instantly in agreement. “She’s so fuckin’ perfect. Made to be our little slut, weren’t you, princess?”
Again, you couldn’t respond. All you could offer was a garbled whine in agreement and hope they understood the message.
“Who would’ve thought our sweet little best friend was such a slut for our dicks.” Satoru commented, lost in the feeling of your walls hugging his dick which only clenched further at his degrading words. 
You were just a dumb, choking mess. Only able to gag and slobber all over Geto’s dick whilst your mind could only think about the way Gojo’s was hitting your sweet spot so effortlessly.
It was like a domino effect, the way Geto’s orgasm sent you spiralling into your own at the feeling of his hot cum filling your mouth and dripping down your chin as he fucked himself into your face desperately.
And then, due to the feeling of your pussy clenching so tightly around his dick, Gojo was followed right behind you, spilling himself within you as he moaned and cursed whilst fucking both you and himself right through your orgasms.
You collapsed onto Suguru, who took you into his comforting embrace so naturally. And, as needy as he ever was, Gojo fell right onto the two of you.
The three of you lay there for a moment, ignoring the inevitable consequences you’d soon have to slither your way out of. You could have laid there in Suguru’s arms with Satoru’s breath hitting your face and his stare burning holes into your skin for years to come, however, halfway to drifting off, the sounds of sirens started to ring in the air.
Disappointment flooded your body, but you knew that soon, it’d be just the three of you living a completely unbothered life.
It was strange how you seemed more panicked than the other two, but at the end of the day, you couldn’t lose them. Everything they had done was for you, every life taken tonight was to secure your own happiness. It filled you up with adoration to know they’d do all that for you.
So after concocting a plan to dispose off the mask and costume behind the backs of the police, and nailing your cover story to the ground all before they had barged into Satoru’s room, only to find the three of you in the same corner they had previously trapped you in, you lay in bed with the pair later as you discussed the three of you leaving this town permanently once it was fully established you weren’t suspects. 
Eventually, you had come to terms with the fact that you were just as psychotic as your best friends for falling for them so hard.
note: so happy because i have 500 followers just in time for my birthday!! thank you all so much for the love and support each of you have shown me, it means the world to me and is my only motivation to write. you guys are why i do this <333
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Come Back - Daniel Ricciardo
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<word count - 663>
Yet again, another morning that you had to get out of bed. It may have been winter break for Daniel, but not for you. You still had to work. The sun had just barely risen as you checked the clock on your bedside table. 7:00. 
You clambered out of bed, hearing a grumble from behind you. "Baby, come back..." Daniel mumbled, patting the empty space beside him. He opened one eye to peek at you as you stood in the doorway and looked at him. 
"I've got to go," you chuckled as he rubbed his eyes, even if he was still half asleep. 
"No you don't, come back," he whined, opening his arms to you as a signal to snuggle back up with him. He had always maintained that you could quit your job and he'd pay for you to live, but you liked having a sense of independence.  
"I'll be back later," you smiled, turning to walk downstairs. Behind you, you heard the rustling of the sheets and footsteps on the wooden flooring. "Go back to bed, Daniel," you laughed, knowing he'd just come and sit in the kitchen with you and beg you not to leave. 
"No," he flatly stated, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and stopping you in your tracks. "You're not going," he said into your ear, then pressed his face into the crook of your neck as the two of you stood there. 
"I've got to go," you reiterated, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was to no avail. "Daniel, come on, love," you tried to coax him off, but he still wasn't for budging. 
"Staying in bed with me for five more minutes won't make you late," he mumbled against your neck, knowing you'd cave eventually. But you feared that if you went back to bed, you really wouldn't end up going to work. 
You sighed, leaning back against his chest. "Is that a yes?" he asked, and you could feel his triumphant smirk against your skin. 
"Yeah, it's a yes to five more minutes," you told him. Within the blink of an eye, he had picked you up bridal style and started walking you back to your bedroom. "I can walk myself, you know," you chuckled, snaking your arms around his neck. 
"Why should you walk when I can carry you? Besides, I like having you in my arms," he plainly stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You just shook your head, thinking that you probably should have guessed that that would be his answer. 
Gently placing you back down in bed, he wasted no time with crawling in beside you and pulling you as close to him as he possibly could. He tugged the covers over the two of you, and instantly felt much more content and calm. 
"Your five minutes has begun," you told him, and he just grunted in response. That basically meant he hadn't listened to a word you said. Well, he had selective hearing at times, and now was one of them. He would simply choose to ignore your countdown. 
The feeling of having him right there next to you was wonderful, and you couldn't think of anything that would make you more comfortable. It was the feeling of pure safety, contentment, the feeling of home. 
You shuffled to reach for your phone on the bedside table. "No, it's barely been a minute," he scolded, tugging you back.
"I'm calling in sick," you told him, and his arms loosened around you, but he still kept his hands on your waist. 
"That's my girl," he smiled, glad that his plans had worked. He knew you like the back of his hand, and he knew he'd get you to stay home with him one way or another. Now, you'd get to spend the rest of your day, lounging around with the man you loved, and you wouldn't have it any other way. 
A/N - I have finished Reckless Driving, What A Shame Part 2 (a request), two more Lando things, one Charles thing and a... Wait for it... Charlos thing. I couldn't help myself. I've been doing this thing over the past few weeks where I've just written little bits when I have time, and it's wracked up into all this being finished. But recently, my down time hasn't been watching TV or whatever, it's been writing. Henceforth, you've seen a little more from me. This is just a short little thing I felt like whipping up, so hope you enjoyed. Requests are open as usual.
Also, can we just appreciate the beauty of this beige mum looking ass header? I can't lie, I kinda love it. Not quite as good as the one I did for Watch Your Mouth, in my opinion, but it's still pretty nice. Anyway, love you lots, have a brilliant day/night, and stay safe 💖
|masterlist|
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munsonslove · 2 years
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Hi! I love you writing and I was wondering if you could write a fic we’re Eddie and the reader kinda have like a frenemies vibe going on and then one day they sleep together but Eddie has no idea the reader is a virgin because of people saying stories about her and then they sleep together and he finds out after they did it??
Can I Kiss You?
(18+ only)
a/n: thanks so much for the request, & thank you everyone for 1k followers!!! i’m so happy people are liking my little stories <3 a few notes: reader is dustin’s older sister in this fic, but i make it a point to say that she was adopted, so you can def read this as not white reader still. i also briefly mention the reader’s birth parents passing away when she was very young, so tw for family death. and there’s a part where it’s said that the reader’s last name isn’t henderson (because she kept her original surname after being adopted) so if anyone’s reading this and your irl last name is henderson… just like pretend it’s not for a sec? oh also i hid a taylor swift lyric in here. first person to find it wins! anyways i hope y’all like it!!
summary: Your little brother's annoying DM is always hanging around and trying to bother you. Embarrassingly, you developed a crush on him, you were just too proud to do anything about it.
wordcount: 7.3k
tags/warnings: fem!virgin!reader (18+ and a high school graduate), also adopted!henderson!reader, slight mention of family death, fluff, smut, friends/frenemies to lovers, praise kink, fingering (f receiving), descriptions of masturbation (both f and m receiving), use of pet names (baby, princess), unprotected p in v penetration (she’s on the pill, use condoms irl of course), no use of y/n
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“He’s not here,” you deadpan with a roll of your eyes as you open the front door. You weren’t expecting any visitors, so when you heard knocking you were quick to find a makeshift weapon before seeing who it was. Your paranoia diminished when you saw it was merely your little brother's DM.
“I’d be tempted to say ‘how do you know I’m not here to see you?’, but that lamp in your hands has me second guessing myself,” Eddie replies with a laugh, pushing past you to enter your home without permission. “You gonna attack me, princess? Didn’t know you found me that annoying.”
“I’m a young woman home alone, and a lot of really strange things happen in this town,” you explain, setting the lamp back down on the end table. “Sue me for being defensive.”
He shakes off his backpack and tosses on the floor. “Better safe than sorry I guess,” he agrees, though you can hear his amused smirk in his tone. “Why you home alone? Your mom got a hot date or something?”
“Book club,” you correct him while crossing your arms, “And Dustin’s sleeping over at the Wheeler’s.”
Eddie hums in response, licking his lips as he looks you up and down. “Cute pajamas,” he says, winking at you.
At his comment, you realize with a start that your robe had fallen open, and crossing your arms only accentuated the suggestive low cut of your silk nightie. Quickly scrambling to cover yourself and retie the knot, you frustratedly grumble, “What are you even doing here? Dustin didn’t say anything about you coming over.”
He flops down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and settling into the well-worn cushions, making himself at home. “He talked me into letting him DM for a campaign, so I thought I’d stop by with my copy of the Dungeon Master’s Guide. He was bitching about only having the Player’s Handbook and Monster Manual, so…” he trails off with a shrug as he leans forward to snatch the remote to the TV from next to his boot.
“Get your dirty shoes off of my mother’s clean furniture,” you scold before physically grabbing his ankles and forcing his feet to the floor. “Can you at least pretend to have manners?”
“I could try, but then you wouldn’t have a crush on me anymore,” he laughs, then hooks one of his fingers into the belt of your robe, pulling you down to be seated next to him. He rests his arm on the back of the couch behind your shoulders, not reacting when you retort with a curt ‘In your dreams.’
You know that logistically you could make him leave- this was your home, after all- but the possibility of him actually going without protest was very low. It seemed like Eddie’s favorite thing in the world was annoying you, and sometimes you find yourself missing the days back when he barely acknowledged your existence. He was originally two years ahead of you in school, but due to him being held back twice he ended up being a part of your graduating class. You didn’t run in the same crowd, in fact you couldn’t have been further out of each other’s social spheres. You were quite popular, invited to many parties, even won prom queen your senior year. Eddie, on the other hand, only showed up at parties to sell drugs, and didn’t attend prom for any of his senior years. 
When your little brother entered high school, you worried about him being bullied. You were aware that most of the school’s population were under the impression that Dungeon and Dragons was a devil worshiping cult, and the Hellfire club along with it. Having been exposed to the game for so long thanks to Dustin’s nerdy interests, you knew better than what the propaganda surrounding D&D tried to peddle to the public, but you held concerns that your status-obsessed ‘friends’ wouldn’t be so easily convinced otherwise. Popularity was never something you sought out, it just came naturally to you, and while it was nice always having weekend plans there was no way in hell you were going to let anyone give your baby brother and his friends any shit. If sticking up for your family made the ‘cool kids’ at school not want to have you in their clique, then that was fine by you. To your surprise, everyone seemed to get the message loud and clear that Dustin and his band of misfits were off limits bullying-wise, and you were able to stay relatively well liked by your peers.
The first time you stood up for Dustin, it was a few weeks into his freshman year in the hallway before first period. One of the guys from the basketball team was giving him a hard time, and you marched right up to the meathead jock and shoved him away. You made sure to get your point across that if you ever saw him fucking with your brother again that you weren’t afraid to fight back. The opposing boy cowered away, not expecting one of the most popular girls at Hawkins to so adamantly defend who he considered a ‘nerd’. Word traveled fast, and by lunchtime the hottest gossip was how you sucker-punched Damian Smith square in the jaw outside of Mrs. Hackett’s classroom this morning. It wasn’t true by a long shot, but you found it rather amusing how much the story got twisted when there were so many witnesses. That day was also the first time you spoke to Eddie.
He had cornered you in the cafeteria, and was attempting to use his ‘bad boy, outcast’ demeanor to intimidate you into leaving Dustin alone. Some of the cheerleaders got the attention of their boyfriends, and pretty soon a group had gathered to see why someone at the bottom of the food chain was messing with you. You called them off with a wave of your hand, then took Eddie’s arm to drag him out into the hall and figure out what the hell he was talking about. He clearly had the wrong idea, because he was telling you off about ‘pretending to stand up for the nerdy freshmen’ and how he ‘knew this was part of some elaborate prank’.
He had no idea you were Dustin’s sister. It made sense, you didn’t look all that similar and you didn’t even share a last name. Your biological parents were family friends of the Hendersons, and they died when you were fairly young. You were legally adopted by your godmother, and were raised as a member of the family. Most everyone who you’ve told has tried to console you after learning the truth, and while it is sad that you didn’t get to grow up with your birth mother and father, you know you were lucky to be a Henderson (by love, not by name). Family is family, even if there’s no blood relation, and that’s exactly what you told Eddie. You let him know that he could accuse you of being one of those airheads whose main concern is how many pages of the yearbook they make it on, but that wasn’t going to stop you from beating the shit out of anyone who tried to give your brother a hard time.
With Eddie becoming a close friend of Dustin’s, even somewhat of a role model (much to your dismay), you saw him pretty often. He was always finding excuses to come over, and you suspected it had something to do with his new life mission of bothering you at every waking moment. The two of you didn’t hate each other per se, on the contrary you actually always secretly enjoyed spending time with the metalhead, despite your differences. That being said, your rapport consisted mainly of jestful bantering, constantly trying to have the one-up in the exchange. You both finished high school together, he actually gave you a ride to graduation (not without a snide comment on the length of your dress, prompting a middle finger from you). Now you were taking a gap year before college and he was staying in Hawkins to focus on his music, the plan being to move to Indianapolis when the final member of Corroded Coffin graduated. With the freedom awarded by not attending Hawkins anymore- from both the stressful preparation for another four years of school and the pressure to stick to the status quo- you found yourself spending a lot of downtime with Eddie. You’re not quite sure either of you would readily call the other a friend, but maybe relationship labels were overrated. All you knew was that if Dustin was hitching a ride home, you could count on Eddie’s van being parked in the driveway for at least a couple hours while he berated you inside.
Lately though, the playful bickering between you two morphed into what almost felt like flirting. Eddie seemed to be laying it on thicker and thicker each time he came to see you, as if he was testing the waters for how much he could get away with without you getting upset. What he didn’t know, however, was that you’ve been harboring a secret crush on him for a while now. After actually getting to know him through the excuse of you both caring about Dustin, you came to the realization that he’s not all bad like his reputation.
Eddie switches on the TV, turning it to your favorite channel without asking and setting the remote back down on the table. It’s the little gestures like these that have you falling harder for him everyday. You lose your train of thought getting lost in fantasies of doing exactly this with him, only while being able to call him your boyfriend. You’re ripped back to reality when his arm shifts from the back of the couch to actually over your shoulders. His face doesn’t show any sign that he thinks of this as overly intimate, so you try to not let any reaction show.
Some hours pass this way, and you wonder how long Eddie plans to stay for. You silently pray that your neighbors won’t say anything to your mom about his van parked in the driveway, but even if they do, the tingling you felt in your chest was well worth it- and besides, no matter what she said, you were an adult. Just as you're thinking this, Eddie stands to pick his bag up off of the floor, slipping the books he brought out onto the coffee table, before zipping it back up and holding it awkwardly in his hands.
“I guess I should probably get going,” he says with a shrug, “It’s getting late, and your mom will be home soon.”
“She said they were going to drink wine,” you respond. “You know Claudia, she wouldn’t drive after having even a sip. She’s going to sleep on her friend’s couch.”
“Oh,” he says, his eyes lighting up a little before he purses his lips and looks out the window. “Well, it’s pretty dark out now. I don’t wanna keep you up…”
There’s a brief pocket of silence, neither of you wanting to be the one to suggest what you’re thinking for fear of the other not returning the same feeling. You don’t want your disappointment at the idea of him not staying to be too evident, but you’re not sure how convincing you’re being. Your gaze drops down to his pretty lips, distracted by how he’s biting them, and wishing you could bite them instead. Faintly, so faintly you’re almost unsure if you even really heard it, he speaks your name, bringing your attention back to his eyes. You watch as he gathers the courage for his next words. 
“Can I kiss you?”
It’s like time stops. You resist the urge to squeal like a little girl with a crush, but that is exactly how you feel. Slowly, you nod your head before moving your lips to say, ‘Yes,’ though no sound escapes you. He drops the bag, and kicks it out of the way when it lands at his feet before taking long strides toward you. The both of you lean forward, and he tilts his head slightly to make room for your noses. His breath fans your lips as he hesitates to close the distance. Impatient after months of pining, you grab him by the zipper of his jacket and finally do what you’ve been dreaming about for so long. 
His lips are as soft as they look, and you conclude that your theory about his chapstick addiction is correct. With as much as he smokes (medicinal or otherwise), he must moisturize them pretty often. He actually tastes very faintly of tobacco, and you remember how he said he was trying to quit and only smoked cigarettes when he was jittery. You wonder if that meant that you make him as nervous as he makes you. The dirty taste was thankfully mostly covered up by a strong minty flavor, and that only makes you wonder even more, this time about if he also obsesses over little detail when he knows he’s going to see you. Whenever Dustin would inform you Eddie was on his way over, you would find yourself primping in front of the mirror, making sure your hair fell in place just the right way and your skin was clear of any blemishes. You even did this before you fully understood your feelings for the man were romantic. Picturing him having the afterthought to pop a mint before driving over to see you had you smiling against his lips.
“What?” he laughs, pulling away from you slightly and raising an eyebrow with both curiosity and amusement.
“Nothing,’ you reply, giggling softly. “Just thinking.”
“Oh? What about?” he asks, leaning in once again to peck you chastely before simply resting his forehead against your and gazing into your eyes. He walks you backwards, back to the couch and sits, pulling you down next to him.
You shake your head, still smiling. Your mind was racing a mile a minute and it was too much to explain, especially when the only thing you wanted was for him to kiss you silly. “Not now. Just come here,” you whisper as you thread your fingers through his hair and push yourself flush against him, ending up fully sat in his lap with his hands gripping your thighs.
You two last like this for a while, (mostly) innocently kissing, just enjoying the feeling of finally giving into temptation. Pretty soon, Eddie’s touch begins to roam, and your hips begin to rock. It was very quickly crossing the line from PG-13 to R. When you feel his cock harden beneath you, you make up your mind about what you want to happen.
“Eddie,” you moan while his tongue circles a bite mark he left on your neck, soothing the sting. He dismisses the sound, lost in his own world as his hands find purchase on your butt, assisting your movements against him. “Eddie,” you try again, shaking his shoulders slightly.
He immediately slides his hands up to a more modest area on your waist, and he lifts his head away from your neck to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, and his hair is wild. “Yeah, baby?” he says, sounding out of breath.
“Do you want to go to my room?” you ask. You can tell by the way he glances back down at your lips, then to your thighs, and finally back up to your eyes, that he knows exactly what you are implying.
“A- are you sure?” he forces out, barely believing what he’s hearing.
“I’m sure,” you confirm. “I’m ready.”
You’re both hurrying down the hallway, nearly tripping over each other’s feet in your haste. The walk to your bedroom is short, but after putting off the inevitable for so long, you can barely wait and have to resist jumping his bones before reaching your destination. Throwing open the door, he ushers you inside and shuts it behind him.
Eddie’s heavy leather jacket thuds as it hits the floor, his shirt being discarded soon after. Your mouth waters at the sight of his tattoos, but you barely have time to admire his partial nudity. He’s on top of you in a flash, pressing you into the wall and kissing you passionately. His curious hands rake over your body, and their wandering loosen the knot on your robe’s belt, causing the thick fabric to open slightly and expose your collarbone. Like a man starved, Eddie’s lips never lose contact with you as he rips the tie from your body, almost making you fall with the force behind it. He steadies you with his hands back on your waist, this time underneath the robe, and you can feel his touch so much better with only the thin silk of your nightgown between you. Shrugging the robe off, he helps you pull it down your arms before tossing it onto your carpet, and the cold air of your bedroom is fought off by his body warmth invading every inch of you.
“Do you want this as much as I do?” he whispers gravelly after parting his lips from yours.
He doesn’t need to clarify what exactly he wants, because you want it all with him. “I do,” you confirm.
He leads you over to your bed, a queen-sized four-poster, still unmade from this morning. You climb on top and turn to face him while sitting on your knees. He looms over you, standing at the foot of the bed with you kneeling on the mattress in front of him. His pretty eyes darken as he looks down and takes in your form.
“God, I like you like this,” he laughs from above you, “Is this what I gotta do for you to shut your mouth?”
“You like my mouth” you shoot back, sitting up to reach him and tangling your hands in his curls. You make a fist, thus pulling his hair slightly.
He grunts as you tug on his locks, but doesn’t let the innuendo in your last comment go. “You do have a real nice mouth,” he says as he swipes his thumb against your bottom lip. Before he can retract his hand, you open your mouth and suck the digit into it, swirling your tongue around the tip while looking up at him from behind your eyelashes.
“Fuck, baby,” he brokenly breathes out. 
The only thing you see in his eyes is pure unadulterated lust, and you feel your belly grow warmer at the thought of what he was going to do about it. He withdraws his hand only to place it on your neck, his palm on the front of your windpipe. He’s not applying any pressure, so you can’t call it choking, but just the implication of such a touch has arousal pooling in your underwear. His thumb is warm and wet on your throat, and when he trails his hand from your neck to the back of your head, the breeze of air on the leftover saliva makes your skin feel cool. Eddie drops his head and his lips meet yours once again, but only just barely making contact. You try to deepen the kiss, but he’s returned the favor of holding onto a tuft of your hair, making it impossible to press against him more firmly without your hair being pulled. He laughs at your cries of protest, but gives in, sucking on your bottom lip and nipping at it before licking his tongue past the threshold of your mouth.
Kissing like this isn’t the most comfortable, what with the springs of your mattress digging into your knees and your neck craning up to be able to reach Eddie, but you could stay in this position for hours if it meant he was going to keep touching you the way he was. The hand not tangled and tugging at your hair was sliding up your side, dragging the silk of your nightie up. He bunched the fabric up in a fist, which caused it to be lifted enough that your cotton panties were on display. You briefly worry about whether he was going to think the underwear you had on was sexy or not, considering it wasn’t silky or lacy like your nightgown was. It was just a simple and comfortable pair of navy blue panties with a white elastic waistband. 
While you were busy overthinking, Eddie bent at his knees and kissed down your jaw, releasing your hair to raise the fabric on the other side of your nightie up to the same level, then backed away to pull it the rest of the way up over your head and off your body. You felt a little self conscious, bare chested in nothing but a pair of underwear that wasn’t even sexy. Your arms went to fold in front of you, but Eddie dropped the silk and  grabbed your wrists, stopping you.
“Don’t cover yourself,” he whispers, his eyes glued to your body, “You’re so beautiful.”
Blood rushes to your head as you bite back a smile at his compliment. Any anxiety you previously felt about him judging you vanishes, and in its place comes even more need. Eddie tells you to lay down as he softly nudges your shoulder, and you do as he says with no contest. He hooks his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties before waiting for one last head nod from you. When you give the okay and lift your hips, he slowly pulls the fabric off of you, sucking in a breath when your bare pussy finally crosses his line of sight.
He crawls onto the bed and kisses up your torso, starting at your hip bone and making his way all the way up to your clavicle. The hard tent in his jeans rubs against the delicate skin of your inner thigh as he spends extra time marking up your neck, and you get impossibly wetter at the proof of the effect you have on him. When he pulls away, the mattress dips by both sides of your face due to him propping himself up by his arms. His legs bend as he sits up, successfully caging you in, and he takes a moment to just look at you.
“I’m gonna get you ready for me, okay baby?” he says quietly, one of his hands leaving their spot next to your head as he traces his fingertips lightly down the dip in between your breasts, over your belly button, and caresses your dripping slit.
“Yeah, okay,” you mutter out your consent. With your brain as cloudy as it was, you weren’t entirely sure what he was proposing, but you were at a point by now where you would agree to anything.
His middle digit slips easily past the soaked folds around your weeping hole, and he circles the entrance teasingly, collecting your juices before finally breaching, and just his fingertip enters into you. An embarrassing high pitched squeak escapes from your throat, and you raise yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look at what he’s doing to you.
“You wanna watch as I warm you up with my fingers, princess?” he croons at you sweetly. “It’s pretty, ain’t it?”
You take a deep gasp of air as his finger disappears further into you, his hands are bigger and tougher than your own, and the difference is very noticeable. He bends and straightens his wrist over and over, pumping in and out of you with ease, and the foreign feeling is strange yet pleasurable. Another finger slides inside, and he works them into you, opening you up. He’s determined to make the next step after this as satisfying for you as possible.
“You’re so wet and tight, baby. You’re gonna feel so good on my cock,” he practically mewls. There’s a wild look in his eyes, and it only steers you closer to your climax. “You want that, baby? You wanna make me feel good? Make me crave you all the time, even more than I already do?”
His words are slurring together as he rambles on about how perfect he knows your pussy is going to feel around him. For the life of you, you can’t form any response that isn’t loud moaning, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind one bit. You feel the build up inside of you start, and your entire body tenses involuntarily as you prepare for what you know will be a mind-blowing orgasm.
“Are you gonna cum? My princess is gonna cum?” he asks, and you nod your head to the best of your ability given that the muscles in your neck are locked up. “You’re squeezing my fingers so fucking tight, baby. Show me how pretty you are when you cum. Show me, and I promise I’ll fuck you so good, so right. I’ll fuck you as many times as you let me, and I’ll do it anyway you want. Hard, slow, soft, fast… Just show me how perfect my girl is when she’s cumming around my fingers and I’ll give you what you need”
His promises push you over the edge, and you finish while crying out his name. Literally, you feel moisture leak from your eyes as your head pushes into the pillow beneath you. Eddie leans forward to kiss away the tears, all while still fingering you, helping you to ride out your orgasm for as long as possible.
“That’s it, that’s my girl,” you hear as you start to come back to the world. His hand slows down slightly, more focused on a deep and sensual rhythm, and you feel his hot breath on your temple as he continues to soothe you through your come down. “Did such a good job, sounded so pretty moaning my name, wanna make you make those sounds forever…”
He trails off as he pulls his hand away, and you both stare at his hand and watch how the light reflects off the glistening slick coating his fingers. He plunges them into his mouth, and groans around them at the taste as your jaw drops in disbelief. It was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Still recovering from both your shock and intense orgasm, you grunt out in annoyance when Eddie rolls off of you and stands up. You’re about to complain at the loss of contact, until you realize his reason for doing so was to unbutton his jeans. You instantly rise. Your head feels dizzy from sitting up too fast, but you push through the lightheadedness in order to give your full attention to what was about to happen.
Eddie hurriedly moves to yank his tight jeans down his legs, stumbling slightly but regaining his balance enough to not fall, then succeeds pulling down the denim and kicking his legs out of it. His legs are pale- as could be suspected from wearing nothing but full length pants in Indiana- and they look rather soft. You want to reach your hand out and graze his calf to see if they’re as soft as they appear, or if looks are deceiving and his dark wisps of leg hair actually have a coarse texture. There’s no time to dwell on that instinct, as very soon after discarding his pants he follows his boxers with them, and you’re distracted by hair in another area.
Eddie’s cock springs to his stomach when he straightens up from pulling off his underwear. The sight of it both makes you want to spread your legs and squeeze your thighs together, but the choice is made for you when Eddie takes your knee with one of his hands and settles between your legs on the bed. His lips met yours as his shaft grazed your soaked lips, brushing against your clit and causing you to buck up into hip, but your hips are pinned down by his pelvis. The pressure allows some relief, but you crave more.
“Fuck me,” you beg, “Please fuck me, Eddie.” You sound pathetic even to yourself, but you’re far past the point of no return as far as shame goes.
“Do you have protection?” he asks, in between kisses. “I didn’t bring condoms. I didn’t think- I didn’t expect you to actually-”
“I’m on the pill,” you cut him off. “Just fuck me.”
“Oh my god,” he groans, “Are you sure, princess?”
“Please, Eds,” you whine, “I need you.”
“You need me, baby?” he smiles against you while you nod your head. His teeth clash with yours as you try to pull him somehow closer to you than he already is. “I know what you need. I’m gonna give it to you, don’t worry.”
He lifts himself up so that he can grasp the base of his shaft, and slides up and down your slit before he positions the head of his cock to be poking your entrance. There was a stinging sensation as he stretched you out, sinking in slowly inch by inch until you can’t take anymore and have to stop him.
“Too big?” he asks, and the tone of his voice leads you to believe he’s asking this with genuine concern rather than inflating his own ego. He really doesn’t want to hurt you.
“I just need a s- second,” you stutter out while adjusting your pelvis, trying to ease the dull ache.
“Take all the time you need,” he murmurs while pecking you on the tip of your nose. Your hand immediately flies up to guide his lips to your own, and the emotion behind the kiss distracts you from the tenseness you feel, allowing you to loosen up slightly.
“God,” he moans, “you feel even more perfect than I imagined.”
A smug smirk crosses your face and you lift an eyebrow at him. “So you’ve imagined?” you ask, tilting your head and chuckling.
“Don’t act you haven’t fucked yourself with those fingers of yours while calling out my name,” he responds with a challenging look, “I can just picture it now, your sheets all crumpled from you tossing and turning, your hands cramping up but you ignoring it cause you’re so desperate to cum. Tell me, princess, when we would hang out, how long would you wait after I left to run up here and start rubbing this pretty little clit.”
As he tortures you with these (very true) accusations, his right hand snakes its way in between your bodies to start playing with your clit. He touches the nub with the tip of his thumb, applying pressure before rolling it in gentle circles. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.
“I asked you a question, baby,” he says, his lips now moving against your jaw as you focus on relaxing and getting used to the feeling of him inside you. “You gonna be a good girl and answer me?”
His vulgar words combined with his hand’s actions send you a wave of slick arousal, and suddenly you’re ready, and you want him deeper. “Eddie,” you whine, “more.”
“Nuh-uh,” he mutters, not moving an inch and keeping that deviously slow pace with his fingers. “I wanna hear about you touching yourself, princess.”
“Ugh!” you groan, kicking your leg out like a kid throwing a tantrum. “Eddie! It’s embarrassing!”
“No it’s not,” he comforts you, his left hand stroking your cheekbone as he leans down to kiss you sweetly on the lips. “When I’m thinking of you, I like to go nice and slow at first…”
Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you realize what he’s about to do. He’s going to tell you about him getting off to dirty thoughts of you. It should disgust you to know the boy who was teasing you and picking little fights for the past almost two years has been fantasizing about you, but it only gets you going more. You force your eyes open to look at him, and he’s already staring deeply at you, his face showing no signs of mocking.
“I think about those pretty lips, so soft. I think about what they’d feel like on my skin, around my cock.” His unabashed admissions are doing nothing to help with how impatient you’re getting, but his fingers stop circling your clit when you try to slide down deeper onto his dick yourself.
“I know you want it baby, but I’m trying to talk to you,” he whispers, “You don’t wanna be rude, do you? You already wouldn’t answer my question.”
“Sorry,” you whimper weakly, hoping that if you play along he’ll hurry up.
“So sweet for me,” he says as his hand starts up again and he nips at the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck. “I knew you’d be sweet. I knew your tough girl act was a show. All the times you got mouthy and bratty with me, you just wanted to be my sweet, good girl.”
“I take off everything but my panties. And then I lay down in bed, with the fan on cause I get hot. And I start feeling up my stomach-”
He cuts you off with a chuckle. “What are you talking about, princess?”
You bang your head on the pillow and start squirming. “I’m answering your question,” you whimper, “You’re taking too long, Eddie, I need it!”
His fingers circle your clit fast and he finally, finally sinks the rest of the way in you, bottoming out and filling you up so deep and full. “Keep going,” he orders as he starts rocking in and out of you at such a cruelly slow rate. As if reading your mind, he adds on, “I’ll go faster if you keep going.”
“Fuck, Eds,” you moan out in ecstasy, your mind empty and only able to think about his cock and what he’s doing to you. But you want- no, need- him to go faster, so you summon every brain cell you have and force yourself to speak semi-coherently.
“I feel up my stomach til I get goosebumps, and I start massaging my tits and thinking about what it would feel like if it was your h-hands,” you start to stutter as his left hand mimics your descriptions, tickling your abdomen as it makes its way to your chest. “And while I did that, I would spit on my fingers a little bit then stick my hand in my underwear, and I would start rubbing my clit.”
“And you imagined it was me doing it?” he interrupts, now thrusting into you a little harder and a little deeper, his hand massaging your breast before taking a nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger and rolling it gently. 
You nod your head, too lost in the feeling to answer verbally. He really started to pick up the speed now, hitting a spot in you that you were never quite able to reach on your own, and it’s so sinfully delicious that you feel like you’re going to black out from the intensity of the pleasure. He feels so perfect moving against you, the velvety skin of his cock merging so right with your inner walls. You chastise yourself for holding out for so long, if you had known how blissful it would be, you would have confessed the day you realized your feelings. The idea that you could have been doing this for nearly a year has you cursing whatever forces that kept you apart, though a bitter voice in the back of your head reminded you it was your own stubbornness.
“Then what do you do?” he urges you on.
“Um, I would stay like that for a little while,” you continue, finding it difficult to get your thoughts out into full sentences, “and then when I was close I would… um, like stop playing with my tits. So that I could use that hand to finger myself.”
“Fuck, princess. The way you describe it… I bet you look so pretty when you’re touching yourself,” he groans, now pummeling in and out of you in a steady, fast rhythm. His eyes keep switching between watching you and being scrunched closed, like he’s trying to focus on making this last but still wants to look at your face. “I wanna see it someday. Will you show me?”
“Yeah, mhm, sure,” you agree, not even really paying attention to what he was asking you due to being too lost in what you were experiencing. Your orgasm was near, and you wouldn’t be able to hold it off for much longer. “Eddie, I’m close,” you warn, your nails digging into his back as your arms tighten around his neck.
“Me too, baby,” he says back. The rocking of his hips combined with the closeness of his face caused his lips to brush against yours in a repeated pattern, and the intimacy of that only builds your climax up faster. “Where do you want it?”
Eddie Munson, the bane of your existence for the past couple of years is asking you where you want him to cum. “Inside,” you answer without thought. “Inside me, Eds, I wanna feel you leaking out of me.”
“Oh fuck. You can’t say shit like that to me. How am I supposed to keep living my life like normal after this?” he whines, “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? I want you to go first.”
As he finishes telling you this, the wire snaps and you feel electricity shoot throughout your body. Your second orgasm is much stronger than your first, and considering how the first one had you nearly losing consciousness, that was really saying something. The shockwaves make you feel like you’re literally vibrating around him, and being able to feel his dick twitching as he released his load into you only added to that feeling. You were a moaning mess, gasping in and puffing out little breaths of air as you hopelessly cry out, ‘I’m cumming, Eddie, you’re making me cum,’ along with assorted swears over and over and over. His grip on your waist loosened as he wrapped his arms around your middle and held on tight, burying his head into your neck as he rode out his own orgasm. He muttered something into your skin that you couldn’t quite make out with it being muffled, but it sounded suspiciously close to, ‘I love you,’ and your heart leapt at that possibility.
After a few minutes, after you both gathered yourselfs, he rolled over onto his back and you cuddled up to his side. Your head rested on his bare chest and your arms hugged around his stomach, pulling him as close as you could.
“So,” he starts, his arms folded behind his head and a crooked grin adorning his face, “was I the biggest you’ve taken, or does that happen with all the guys you bring home?”
You furrow your brows in confusion as you turn your head to look at him. “What do you mean?” you manage to mumble out.
“I mean, how tight you were. And how you couldn’t take all of me at first,” he says, like it was obvious.
“Well, in sex-ed they said the first time usually hurts. This wasn’t as bad as I was expecting though, just kinda stung a little bit at first,” you explain, laying your head flat against him once more and scraping at the nail on your index finger with your thumb.
Eddie stops moving and is quiet for a good thirty seconds. You start to feel a trickling of doubt, and become anxious that you somehow said the wrong thing. He reaches up to take your hand in his, effectively stopping your nervous finger picking and stealing your attention. When you glance back up at him he’s staring at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“Princess,” he says slowly, like somehow you were the one in this situation not making any sense, “You’re not telling me that was your first time.”
Oh. You suppose that was a pretty important tidbit of information you withheld that he probably would’ve liked to have known before you engaged in intercourse. In your defense, there was no reason for him to assume you weren’t a virgin. You only graduated high school the year prior, and during your time at Hawkins you never had a serious boyfriend. Even when you were being crowned prom queen, your date to the dance was James McKenna, and he came out as gay the week after graduation before moving to New York. Sure, you were privy to the rumors thrown around in the boy’s locker room about what you did to this guy under the bleachers and what you did to that guy at Skull Rock, but there was no more gossip surrounding you than the average cheerleader.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, suddenly feeling guilty for not being completely transparent. “I guess I just thought you knew, or like, would be able to tell?” you say, your intonation changing to a questioning lilt by the end of your sentence.
He starts blinking his wide eyes frantically, his head shaking in disbelief as he tries to think of what to say. That self conscious dread from earlier starts to sneak it’s way back in, and you begin having second thoughts, worrying if he- like your high school friends- thought it was weird that you waited to have sex. He must have noticed the fear in your eye, because he held you tighter against him and comfortingly rubbed up and down your forearm.
“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” he says, speaking quickly. “I guess I just assumed. I mean, you were so popular. Everyone wanted you, anyone would have been lucky to have you-” you smile and blush at his words- “And those guys on the basketball team were always bragging and telling stories-”
“If a plate of spaghetti grew legs and started walking around, those guys would claim that they fucked it. Why would you listen to that noise?” you interjected, your annoyance clear.
He held his hands up in defense. “You’re right, I don’t know why I believed any of that crap. I know you have better taste than that. I mean, you like me, so that proves you have a much more sophisticated taste in men.”
“Sophisticated is one word for it, I guess,” you mumble while rolling your eyes, before sitting up to grab your nightie from the foot of the bed.
“If you weren’t active, why were you on the pill?” he questions you while rubbing your back.
“I’m a grown woman. I figured it was going to happen eventually, and I wanted to make sure I was ready when it did,” you answer distractedly as you work on turning your pajamas the right side out.
Eddie hums in understanding but is otherwise quiet as he watches you redress yourself, except for a cheeky wolf whistle when you need to bend over to pick up your panties. Once you're covered up again, you turn around to see him staring at you in amusement.
“What?” you ask with a smile, climbing back onto the bed and throwing a leg over his thighs, settling onto his lap. The tips of your noses brush against each other as you see that gleam in his eyes you recognize as him trying to stifle laughter when teasing you. “What is it?” you repeat, shoving him gently on his chest before looping your arms around his neck.
He shakes with silent laughter then leans back to quirk a brow at you. “A plate of spaghetti?” he asks. You grab a pillow to hit him in the head with, but drop it when you’re tackled and pinned down, giggling and kicking your feet as he kisses up your collar bone.
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allocnddits · 8 months
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GIRLS ON FILM e.m.
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summary: Eddie can’t take two seconds of you sitting on his lap.
warnings: penetrative sex, blowjob, teasing, low key overstimulation, switch!eddie
wc: 1.2k
It wasn’t often that you accompanied Eddie to his band’s rehearsals, but you had spent the weekend away and he couldn’t skip on this one since they were doing a new set. So on monday, right after school, you went to his friends garage to watch him.
As they finished a song you got up from the puff chair you were on and grabbed a diet coke from the mini fridge and when you turned back Eddie had taken your spot. Naturally, you walked over and took a seat on his lap.
At first, you really didn’t realize what was happening, it just seamed so natural and normal to you, but when you caught him whipping his sweaty palm on his jeans, you knew what you had done to him.
“Are you…?” you whispered in his ear, playing it off by running your hand through his hair. He just nodded discreetly, still talking to his friends. You pulled his wrist, pretending to check the time on his watch. “Teddy” he hummed, looking up at you “need to go, drive me, please?” you asked as you got up from his lap, quickly tidying up your uniform and he followed right after, hearing his friends joke about how you turn him into a complete puppy. Eddie picked up an empty coke can from the floor and threw it at them.
“It’s six, your curfew is only at eight.” he remarked as you stepped into his van.
“Well, my parents aren’t home and,” you said, checking your lipstick on the mirror “i thought i could help you with that.” you pointed at his semi erection.
Eddie quickly made an abrupt U turn – earning a scolding glare from you – and drove to your house, both of you immediately going to your room on the second floor.
"You are so damn sensitive! i sat on your lap for like two minutes and you got hard, what the fuck?" you laughed.
"You've been away all weekend, i missed you" he explained, throwing his body on the bed.
"What are you waiting for then?" he quickly sat up on the edge of the bed and pulled you closer by the waist till you stood between his spread legs as he looked up at you. His hands travelled up your thighs till your skirt was riding up, doing nothing but caressing the skin, itching closer and closer to your heat but never getting there. "Don't tease"
"Or what?" he dared, looking back up at you with his doe brown eyes
"Or i'll have fun by myself and make you watch, and i think you're touch starved enough, aren't you, Teddy?"
He nodded and pulled you closer to straddle his lap. "Okay, I'll stop teasing, but only if you do what you promised"
"I surely will" you kissed his neck slowly, licking a stripe up behind his ear and pretended not to notice how he shivered when you did it. "You want the shirt off, baby?" you asked getting down on your knees between his legs. Of course you already knew the answer but you wanted to hear him say it.
"Please?" You pulled your shirt off, revealing your white, lacy bra. “So pretty, baby”
You smiled up at him before unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his – now completely hard – shaft out of his boxers. His tip was bright red, aching for your touch as you teased him by running your nails on his base, making him roll his eyes. You darted your tongue out, tapping his tip against it and tasting his pre cum before taking him into your mouth. You made sure to cover him in your spit, letting it drip down the sides of your mouth till it coated his entire length. Your mouth started to slide down on him, taking him inch by inch till your nose hit his groin and you pulled away immediately.
“Too big for you, honey?” he teased, making you roll your eyes, tears rolling down your face as you did. You let your hand work on him as you recovered from the previous move, teasing his tip by running your palm against it or pressing down on his slit. He threw his head back, letting his hands meet your hair when your mouth returned to his shaft. He started letting groans out, making you smile around him as he pushed your head down and he fell back onto the bed. “Fuck. Baby, please”
“No, love” you whispered against his tip after pulling out. “don’t come just yet, want your cum inside me, yeah?” You pushed his shirt up his chest, kissing his lower stomach as you pumped him fast in your hand. You only stopped when you felt his thighs clench, knowing he was about to cum and you pulled away, abruptly.
“Aren’t you just a little bitch.” he complained after a long and frustrated groan, you just smiled, watching as he sat up on the bed. “Come here”
“I’m sorry, baby, but i just love to see you get desperate. I’ll make it up to you, ‘kay?” you straddled his lap, taking off his shirt and brushing his hair off his face. “so beautiful” you praised as your lips met his neck, kissing and nibbling softly on the pale skin. You dipped your hand between your bodies, pushing your underwear to the side before aligning yourself to him. He could feel your cunt swallow him, little by little as you kissed his neck. You pushed his torso onto the bed, making him lay down and folded your body over his to reach for a pillow, placing it under his head.
As you started to bounce on him, Eddie could not believe the view in front of him, you had your hands on his chest, your tits bounced along with you in your lacy bra and your cheer skirt hugged your waist so perfectly. He managed to get his shit together to reach for the polaroid you got for Christmas and snap a picture of you, and look at it once it was printed. The picture was blurry, since he caught you in movement, and dark, since the only source of light in your room was of the setting sun through your glass windows. Once the camera was off his hands, he pulled you down, arms hugging you tightly around your waist as your hips went completely wild, circling and bouncing on his cock.
“Fuck, baby, so close” he moaned in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel his body tremble and clench beneath yours as he tried hard to hold it in – he wanted you to cum with him.
“Edward, let it go, come inside me” you encouraged, wanting to see him completely fall apart for you. And he did. As soon as you finished the sentence he came, spurting inside you and filling you up. His grip on you loosened as he lost his strength to his orgasm, so you sat back up and started grinding down on him, his lower stomach catching you clit. The both of you were a complete mess, Eddie completely overwhelmed by your movements on his spent cock and you desperately needing to reach your high as his seed dripped down from your cunt onto your bodies. When you did cum, your moans mixed up with your boyfriends whines as you clenched around his softening cock.
“Fuck, baby, off, off, off” he lifted your hips, pulling his overstimulated cock out. You giggled, still stuck in the bliss of your orgasm.
“Sorry, honey, won’t do it next time”
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