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neopuppy · 9 months

Text

Cookie Jar (M)

pairing. Jeno x female reader x Jaemin

genre. stuck in a dryer AU(because why not), meany step-brothers Jaemin/Jeno, pwop(and yet a plot twist), crack if you squint, M/F

warnings. dubcon(don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable. thanks.), stepcest, profanity, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 7000

now playing. Cookie Jar//Doja Cat

smut warnings. baby oil, pet names, threesome, unprotected vaginal sex, double penetration(one hole), degradation/praise

“God damn, your step-brothers are so hot.” Your friend says, sucking a hissed breath between her teeth. “I’d do anything to get stuck between those two.”

“You’re sick,” you mutter, slapping her oiled up shoulder, warmed and glistening under the last days of summer sun. “They’re my brothers.”

“Step-brothers.” She shrugs, continuing to eye the two dunking each other underwater with headlocks. “Come on, that’s like… universally a big turn on.”

“Yeah, well not to me.” You say, rolling your eyes before returning to watch the commotion in the pool travel closer, splashing too close to where you lay. “You wouldn’t think they’re so hot if you had to live with them like I do.”

“Believe me, I definitely would.” She sighs, dragging one of the legs of her sunglasses between the seam of her lips. “Don’t know how you resist, I swear they get bigger and buffer every time they visit.”

Now that is true, you silently agree, shielding your eyes from the sun to take in a better look.

“Jaemin’s so broad,” she continues, nibbling at her glasses. “And Jeno’s so lean.. nothing but muscle on him. I bet they get real rough.”

“You need to get laid.” You mumble, focused on the way Jeno’s veins ripple with each squeeze around Jaemin’s neck. The two red in the face from rough-housing for the last hour. “And not by one of my brothers.”

She whines, pouting and sticking out her tongue. “You’re no fun, if you’re not gonna allow me to do it… one of us should.”

Her eyebrows wiggle suggestively, leaning back and fanning herself as they begin to exit the pool. Jeno smiles, eyes more squinted with the sun beating down on his face and tight sculpted chest. “Hey, we’re going to head inside. You want anything?”

The dreamy sigh your friend let’s out doesn’t go unnoticed, whether it be from Jeno’s charm or Jaemin’s perfected way of continuing to not acknowledge your existence; too busy patting his flat smooth stomach dry. It’s all a show of course, he knows he looks too damn good.

“I’m okay, thanks Jeno.”

He nods, throwing an arm around his brother's shoulder to continue their playful match as they pass through the sliding doors back into your house.

“He’s so cute,” your friend continues to fawn over the two, squealing that you must have been a saint in a past life to have ended up in such a lucky situation.

“It’s not luck.” You disagree, shushing her. “Anyway enough of this, I have a date to get ready for tonight, the last thing on my mind is Jeno or Jaemin.”

She sighs, shoulders slumping as she lays back. “Meanwhile, I’ll be home dreaming about your step-brothers railing me into the next universe.”

Yeah, in your dreams they’ve had their way with you once or twice.. maybe more than a couple handful of times. It doesn’t help that neither of them has ever attempted to be discreet about their sexual conquests when they’re home. It’s the main reason you can’t even stare at a phallic shaped object for too long without venturing into lewd thoughts of your step-brothers acting out their usual horny himbo behavior with you.

The headache you currently have for example is all Jaemin’s fault, keeping you up into the late AM hours with two sluts screaming from his bedroom akin to something straight out of a horror film. That’s how you found your way to the kitchen to distract your mind from the deeper throaty moans between their banshee-like cries. Maybe water would quench the thirst closing up your throat, but how to stop the aching heat between your thighs..

“What’re you doing up?” His groggy voice emerged, feet patting their way across kitchen tile toward the open fridge you’ve been standing in front of for a minute now contemplating if you should make a sandwich or not.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you sneer, side-eyeing him with a mean look. Your step-brother's afterglow has his eyes dropping at the corners, smiling lazily as he reaches past you for two water bottles.

“Try counting sheep?” He doesn’t even acknowledge you with a glance, moving to sit at the kitchen island and chug down one of the waters. Not even bothering to pull on a shirt before coming down, because why would you question the bright red and pink scratches lining his upper back. It’s dim enough to make it weird if you mention it, too observant on your part.

“I don’t think that will help.” You say, rolling your eyes and shifting down to the cabinet filled with snacks. “Too much noise, not even sheep can drown that out.”

“Hmm,” Jaemin hums, fixing his messy hair still sweaty at the roots. “That’s weird, I never hear anything.”

“You wouldn’t, would you?”

The sound of a chair scrapes across the tile, feet patting toward the same way he came in from but coming to a stop too close, right behind you.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He whispers, hovering near the back of your ear. “Am I doing something to keep you up at night?”

Jaemin knows you hear everything with your bedroom being right in-between his and Jeno’s. Only a wall apart from the debauchery taking place mere feet away from you. “You’ve never complained before..” he reaches for your hair, tossling it behind you and gathering most down the center of your back.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Hmm, sounds to me like you’re eavesdropping?” You can pick up a smirk in his tone, shivering down your spine as his palm weighs down on your shoulder. “Don’t tell me my sweet innocent little sister is a pervert? What would your father think.”

He presses closer, reaching out in front of you to grab a protein bar, groin rocking against your backside as he leans up to reach for it above both of your heads. “It’s—it’s not that.” You bite down on your lip, eyes squeezing shut to push away the thought of just how thick he feels pressed against your ass. The shape of his length prominent and hot, half-hard where he digs into you.

“Then what is it?” Jaemin grunts, pushing down on your shoulder heavier for leverage to reach higher, lightly grazing the bar with the tips of his fingers. “What’s keeping you up?”

“Neighbors.. neighbors dog.” You lie, shaking away the memories of high-pitched moans and screams buried into pillows. “Barks a lot, near my window.”

Jaemin tsks, successfully pulling down the snack he’s been reaching for but not without aligning the dip between your ass with his growing size. “What a pesky dog.” He leans forward, lips brushing your ear. “Maybe you need some new headphones, I’ll buy you some this weekend. Can’t have my baby sis losing out on precious sleep.”

With one last dig of his hips against yours, he grins, patting the top of your head. “Get some sleep baby.”

You had to grip onto the end of the cabinet to keep your knees from failing you, dropping your head down to suppress a whimper. Jaemin’s so mean, so fucking mean for what? Maybe you are a pervert though, secretly lusting after not just one—but both of your step-siblings. God your parents would ship you off to boarding school if they knew you couldn’t catch a wink of sleep after that.

No, not with your ear pressed up against the wall trying to mute every sound that couldn’t have come from one of the main characters of your daily fantasies. Between having both Jaemin and Jeno back home for summer, you haven’t seen a day of peace.

Your friend was right, maybe she needs to get laid, but more than anything you need to be fucked. Fucked hard enough for your soul to leave your body and make a trip to heaven and back.

That explains the deep set bags under your eyes today, hidden under the sunglasses that also do a great job of masking your lack of ability to take in each wet rippling muscle lining Jeno’s stomach, or Jaemin’s thick biceps flexing and gripping around his neck.

A defeated sigh solidifies your decision to get in a quick nap before it’s time to get ready for your date tonight. You won’t be of much use for another man if you’re still stuck in a horny whirlwind fantasy anyway.

What was that Jaemin said to you last night? Count sheep?

One. Two. Three..

“Where are you going?”

Jeno’s sitting on top of the dryer mindlessly scrolling through his phone, double-taking at the sound of you entering the laundry room; his eyes nearly falling out of their sockets at the length of your skirt.

“Out.” You say, squatting a bit to sort through your clean basket of clothes. “Have you seen my favorite bra?”

Jeno jumps off the machine, head ducking lower, catching a glimpse of sheer lace baby pink between your thighs. “What?”

“My bra,” you stand, cupping around your chest. “It’s light pink, floral trimming, the cups are see-through.”

He gapes, mouth going dry taking in the rest of your appearance. “Where are you going?”

“Hello, earth to Jeno!” Waving around, you reach out to flick his forehead, wrist caught mid-air before you reach. “I asked you a question!”

He scoffs, tugging you closer. “Why would I have your bra?! Are you not wearing it?” The realization has Jeno pulling you arm up to better stare at your chest, a faint shadow of nipple peeks through the cotton material hugging your breasts.

“What the hell are you wearing?!” He’s flabbergasted, scanning up and down your figure and shaking his head in disapproval. “You can’t go out like this.”

Pulling free from his hold you roll your eyes, returning to the basket of fresh laundry in search of your undergarments. “You don’t like it?”

Jeno pauses, mouth opening and shutting again, lips pouting out. He definitely likes it, but you shouldn’t be out in public revealing this much of your body to anyone.. it’s different at home; no one other than him and Jaemin to see you prance around in oversized t-shirts barely hitting beneath your ass. Not that they’ve ever wondered what would happen if you bent down to pick something up in front of them, not that they’ve ever caught themselves turning their heads toward the stairs in unison when you come skipping down, bouncing away.

“You look..” Jeno hums, taking too long to admire the smooth backs of your thighs leading up to the plump roundness your skirts doing a poor job of hiding. “..it’s just.. would your dad let you wear that out??”

Snorting, you stand up to glare at him with your hands on your hips, head cocked to the side. “He’s not here to stop me, is he?”

“No but he asked us to watch over you, I don’t think your dad would like it if he knew I let you leave the house looking like..”

“Like what?” You snap back, stepping forward to get in his face.

“Like..”

“Go on.”

“Like a common street whore.” Jeno straightens out, clearing his throat, chin tilted in to appear serious. “Walking around like you’re asking for it.”

Smiling, you poke at his chest, your step-brother’s resolve crumbling as you softly laugh. “Maybe I am.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?!” Jeno groans, shaking his head again. “I can’t let you go out like that, I won’t allow it.”

“Oh you won’t allow it? Do you think you’re my daddy?” You ask, taunting him further with another prod at his chest; mascara heavily coated eyelashes batting mischievously.

Jeno swallows, biting at the sides of his tongue, annoyed and aroused by everything. The way you’re dressed, the way you keep touching him, the silky tone you say that word in.

“Where exactly do you need to go dressed like that?” He repeats, the sound of the dryer cycle coming to an end clearing his foggy mind for a moment.

Sighing, you roll your eyes, adjusting the loose bolero cashmere slipping from your shoulders. “The new neighbor invited me over for dinner and a movie, we’re not going out. He’s gonna cook me a nice American meal because I mentioned how much I miss it back home when we met.”

Jeno’s eyes dart back and forth in thought, a light bulb coming to life behind them. “THE AMERICAN GUY? THAT GROWN ASS MAN?!”

“He’s 28!”

“Exactly!” His demeanor changes drastically, arms flailing angrily. “Oh you are not going out to see him dressed like that! In fact! You aren’t going anywhere near that creep!”

“He’s not a creep! God Jeno.” Shoving past him you continue muttering about how he needs to calm down, you don’t need to take orders from him or anyone. “I’m an adult.”

“He’s way too old for you.” Jeno paces behind you, too frustrated to notice you’ve begun to pull out his dry laundry, sorting through it in search of your bra. “I’m gonna have to call your dad.”

“Jeno! Do not!” You snap again, letting out an annoyed huff. “I never snitch on you and Jaemin all the nights you sneak out and bring back girls to fuck!”

Jeno gapes again, moving to stand by your side and snatch his boxers before you grab them. “We don’t do that!”

“Oh you don’t? I must have imagined those girly moans coming from your bedrooms screaming oh yes! Daddy please! Rip my ass apart! Your cocks so fucking big!” You slap down on the dryer moaning out, arching forward pressing your breast against the machine, eyes rolling up sarcastically. “Ugh yes daddy! Cum on my ass!”

Jeno gulps, eyebrows twisting together as his cock jumps inside the confines of his jeans, gnawing at his bottom lip to contain an anguished groan. “That’s..”

“Piece of shit dryer,” you curse, bending down to reach further inside, the strap of your bra meeting your fingers. “I swear if this thing ate my bra!”

Jeno runs his hands through his hair, tugging at chunks trying to regain his composure. The position you’ve dropped to on your knees, ass shimmying in the air further pushing him to his limit not helping one bit.

There’s no way he can let you leave this house dressed like this, no way he can let that pervert down the street take advantage of his little innocent step-sister, no way he can let anyone ruin you other than him.

His hand trembles inches away from your backside, soft supple skin fully exposed just aching to be slapped, marked up and bruised by his hands.

“Jeno! Help me!” You whine, shaking and kicking out your feet annoyed. “I think I’m stuck!”

Oh fuck.

“Wh-what..” Jeno’s eyes travel around quickly, ending back on your ass wiggling around in a weak attempt to free yourself from the machine you’ve gotten stuck inside of. “W-what… quit fucking around.”

“I’m not! I’m stuck, Jeno! You have to get me out!” Your sad excuse of a skirt flares up as you start to kick, ankles knocking together the more you whine and yell at him. “I can’t believe this!”

Me either, Jeno thinks, swallowing a thick wad of saliva to coat his throat. “This has to be a joke, you’re…you’re trying to..” he pauses, mewling over what exactly it is you’re doing to him. On your knees, ass rippling under your cute little panties, back arched low in this much too perfect position.

“I’m not joking! Jeno I’m really stuck! I think my sweater got caught in the machine!” Your whiney high-pitched tone doesn’t help Jeno’s growing problem twitching against his inner thigh.

“What am I supposed to do?! Break the fucking dryer?!” Jeno splutters, forcing himself to look away and draw in shallow breaths.

SHE’S YOUR SISTER.

The chant shouting in his head gets interrupted by the devil on his shoulder, speaking in an oddly similar tone he’s more than familiar with. ‘She’s just our step-sister Jeno, it’s not a crime.’

That’s what Jaemin’s always said whenever they’ve drank a little too much and toyed with the idea of hooking up with you. ‘Believe me, I’m gonna fuck her at some point, you know I can’t keep it in my pants this long.’

Jaemin had a point, but even then Jeno can’t deny the guilt he feels as his gaze retreats back to your ample backside, arched out pathetically, fully pushing your plump folds out against the thin layer of underwear leaving nothing to his imagination.

“Do something!” You shout, near tears from the dryer's heat sweating your makeup off. All this effort to look pretty for Johnny only for it to be completely wasted over this stupid damn bra. This is all Jeno’s fault! He never even clears out the lint before throwing his clothes in!

“Okay okay!” The existential crisis your step-brother’s going through fails to transcend through his response, even if he’s fully messed up his hair style by ripping at tufts while pacing behind you. “What if.. I can try to pull you out?”

“Hurry! It’s so hot in here! I’m melting!”

Could you be more dramatic? He wants to scoff, rolling his eyes as he drops down to his knees and his hands hover over your hips. “I’m going to try and reach in, alright?”

“God damnit Jeno! Fucking hurry up!” You screech, feet stomping against the ground between his thighs.

“Oh shit,” Jeno presses in closer to avoid your heels colliding with his sack, eyes going wide upon contact with your core, all warm and damp where his lower stomach meets the forbidden area between your thighs. “Fuck.”

He has to catch his breath again, sliding his hands through the space left at your sides. He definitely could avoid touching you given the amount of space, but that doesn’t stop him from smoothing up your hips and waist, squeezing his way up as he bends closer with his chin resting atop the dryer. The new angle aligns his hips with yours, his now fully hard length digging into your thigh the more he leans his body in to lock under your armpits and pull your shoulders back. “Come on, work with me here.”

“That hurts! It’s my sweater Jeno! My sleeves wrapped up in the machine, I can’t get it out!” He can feel you tug, shifting back further into his groin the more you attempt to move and release your arm from the uncomfortable position you’re trapped in.

“Sorry sorry..” he gasps, unable to stop himself from rocking forward against your warmth. “Should I try to take your top off?” Shaking his head in disbelief, he circles against your ass, biting down on his teeth to suppress a groan when his length slots between your folds. Even with the material of your clothes keeping you apart, the idea alone of having you so vulnerable to his ministrations is more than enough. High alone off how unsuspecting his every calculated move is, because why would your big brother take advantage of you like this? Jeno would never, he loves you too much.

“Ughh…” you whine, head drooping with sweat pouring down your face faster than a river flow. “This is so stupid!” You cry, shimmying back again, too exhausted to pick up on the hard shaped rod pressed flush to your core.

“I’m so tired..” blinking slowly, you wonder how stupid it may be to call up 911 for this.

‘Hey my step-sister got stuck in a dryer trying to find a bra. Can you make it fast? She’s supposed to have a hot date tonight with this sexy American beef cake that lives down the street.’

Because that’s something that could only ever happen to you. Public humiliation that would only draw attention to your house with a blaring fire truck uselessly parked outside only to decide that the jaws of life would be necessary to free you from this comedic porn scenario mess of a situation you’ve landed yourself in.

“I’m doing my best baby.” Jeno soothes, maneuvering his hands to your back in search of a bra clasp to release. Oh right.. hard nipples, no bra. The entire reason you’re stuck to begin with. “I’m going to take your top off, okay?”

No bra, that should make this easier, he gulps, untying the halter strings connected at the back of your neck. “Maybe if we can get you out of this..” he tries to imagine your tortured cute face, tear stricken the longer you suffer in there. The image of your distress only makes his cock jump, rutting harder against your ass.

“Fuck, I can’t do this.” He whispers quietly to himself, too caught up in his own form of torture. What are the chances of pulling you out, tits bouncing freely as you fall back and land ass first onto the seat of his lap. Jeno nods to himself, pulling your top lower until he can sense the release of your breasts, likely resting against the still warm metal insides of the dryer.

“Try to pull your arms free now baby.”

Maybe it’s due to your exhaustion, lazily pushing back only to be met with your step-brother’s hips and a low groan. “I can’t Jeno, I can’t anymore.” You sob, pathetically dropping flat with your arm strung up still locked in place.

“I’m going to have to cut your sweater.” He thinks fast, glancing around quickly before noticing you’re no longer alone.

“Jaemin?!”

“Jaemin!” You shout, shocked by the mention of your other brother. “Huh?!”

An amused laugh traces up your back, followed by a round of applause and feet shuffling forward. “No no, keep it going Jeno.”

He leans against the washer, smirking to one side. “All this fun without me? You dirty fucking dog.”

“Jaem, it’s not what it looks like! She’s st—“

“No no, seriously, by all means—go on, don’t let me interrupt. I’m dying to know what you’ll do next.” He says sarcastically. “You’re really the luckiest motherfucker I know, Jeno. Found her like this before I had the chance.”

“Dude, it’s not like that!” He groans, gripping around your waist roughly out of frustration.

“Ow!” You squeak, pushing back harder against his crotch. “Jaemin, do something!”

“Do something?” He muses, squatting down near his brother to get a good look at your connected lower halves, skirt pushed high above your hips and underwear scrunched up between your buttcheeks. “I can do a lot, if you really want me to, princess.”

“Jaemin, no..” Jeno begs quietly, knowing his sibling better than himself. “You can’t.”

“Oh, but you can, right?” He snickers, snapping his fingers. “All this struggling and neither of you idiots has considered oil yet?” He laughs, patting Jeno’s back roughly before exiting.

“Where’d he go?!” You kick at the ground again, maybe Jaemin could get you out of here, he’s buffer than Jeno.. always flexing his muscles in front of you talking about ‘gains’.

“Uh..” Jaemin walks back in before he’s able to coin up a lie, a clear bottle of baby oil in hand. “Man, why do you even have that??”

“You know why.” He grins cockily, returning to match Jeno’s position on his knees. “We’ll just lube her up real good and she’ll slip right out.”

“What is this?” Jeno asks, genuinely bewildered. “Am I dreaming?” He raises an eyebrow, reaching to pinch your buttcheek.

“Ow! What the fuck!”

Oh right, he’s supposed to pinch himself. Not you.

“Don’t think you are but either way, hope we don’t wake up.” Jaemin chuckles, nudging his elbow into his brother’s side. “I think you’ve had enough failed attempts at this, it’s my turn.”

Reluctantly Jeno’s shoulders drop and he shifts off to your side, hard-on pressed to your hip as if that will help hide how insanely turned on he is right now.

Jaemin makes a face, whistling quietly as he leans in to whisper for you not to hear. “I’d be 8 deep in her right now, you’re an idiot.”

“Whatever man, I’m trying to be a good brother.”

“Step.” Jaemin rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t count, besides, look at us and look at her—we’re like some PornHub dream come true. Think of the money we could make if we filmed this..”

“Hello?!” You cry out, unable to hear anything aside from muffled voices. “Are you going to help me or what?!?”

“Of course princess.” Jaemin says reassuringly, handing Jeno the bottle of baby oil to free his hands to grab onto your hips. “You’re stuck real good in there unfortunately, but your big brother has a great plan to get you out.”

Jeno shakes his head, mouthing ‘you sick fuck’ to the other, receiving only a much too cheerful smile in return.

“Okay, thank you..” you don’t sound too convinced, but at this point with your makeup all sweated off and hair ruined, you don’t have much of a choice other than to just go with it.

“I’m going to try oiling you up, but I don’t want to ruin your pretty outfit baby.” He winks at Jeno, mouthing ‘watch this’. “Is that okay with you?” He tugs on your underwear to ask without flat out asking.

“Take off my clothes?” With your top already rolled down to your waist and this bent over position you’ve been stuck in for too long now, you can’t fathom how much more humiliating this situation can get at this point.

“Yeah, sort of like when you use butter to help remove jewelry that’s too tight.” Jaemin shrugs, convinced he made that up. “It’s worth a shot to try, or would you rather I call the fire department to have you craned out of here. Might be hard to explain the hole in our roof to mom and dad later, and think of how much that repair will cost them.”

“Fine, fine! Get me out of here, please Jaem.” You whine again, lazily collapsing onto your stomach and chest.

“You don’t have to beg baby.” Jaemin can’t stop the smile on his lips from growing, slowly rolling your panties down to unveil your bald smooth cunt. He sucks in a hissed breath between his teeth. “Fuck, even prettier than I imagined.”

Jeno leans in closer, swallowing down a sob. “Yeah, real nice..” his hand lifts, hovering close by. “You’re right, fuck, I’m an idiot.” His hips jam closer, digging his painfully hard length into the side of your thigh.

“We should oil your entire body.” Jaemin pipes up. “You know, to make sure you slip free easily. I wouldn't want my baby sis to get hurt.”

That doesn’t make a lick of sense, you think, but who fucking cares anymore. Jaemin skims his palms beneath your skirt, tugging it over your hips ever so gently. Clueless to the visual of your ass bouncing against the material with each light tug, he curses under his breath.

“You see that Jeno?” He nods to your exposed rim, tight as fuck, as if nothing’s ever penetrated back there. “That’s a damn shame.. Our poor baby, so neglected..”

You hate to admit but everything your step-brother has said in his usual monotone calm voice has your thighs rubbing together anxiously. Because when you weighed the pros and cons of sacrificing your pride and ego, you failed to consider the most humiliating one: leaking down your thighs for your step-brothers to watch from a front row seat.

“Fuck.”

“What was that my angel?” Jaemin chimes, reaching for your top to drag down over your wide hips, the material showing resistance as seams pop open passing over the round pert of your ass. “You’re doing so good for me.” He says, acknowledging Jeno with his arm slung atop the dryer to stop himself from hunching forward and burying his face between your butt. “Well, for us.”

This has to be some type of punishment, you can’t even bite down on your fist to drown out the moan you let out next. Jaemin uses your weakened state to fully control the dip in your back, hoisting your hips higher to make your cheeks spread naturally and leave you completely exposed.

“God damn.” He grits pushing down on your waist and pressing his crotch to the back of your thigh. “Hurry up Jeno, soak her up.”

“You have to say it like that?” Jeno sounds near the verge of tears trying to uncap the baby oil in his tight grip. “Isn’t this—sort of..”

“If you don’t hurry the fuck up I’m gonna shove my dick inside of her in the next five seconds!” Jaemin hisses at his brother, reaching for the string keeping his sweats up. “Five! Four!—“

“Okay okay!” Jeno practically drops the bottle out of fear, squeezing its contents out rapidly with his jaw hung at the sight of your ass gleaming back at him absolutely drenched. “Can’t do this, Jaem! I need—need to fuck her!”

“What?? What’s going on!?” You shriek, jumping back as the oil dribbles up your back, only magnifying how obscene your ass looks shining with a thick coat of oil.

“This is insane.” Jaemin mumbles, shoving his sweats and boxers down in one go. He lowers down to speak into the dryer, snaking in to smear the oil higher up your back. “Hey, I don’t want to get my clothes dirty either, right Jeno? I’m sure you understand, baby.”

“What?” You sigh, eyes flying wide open when you feel it, hot and thick against your soaked ass. “Is that?—“ to make matters worse, you feel it again against your other thigh, bigger even, pulsating where he’s pressed, nearly burning your skin from how hot he feels. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah,” Jaemin moans, smoothing his oily hands to your chest, squeezing the second he cups your breasts. “Fuckfuckfuck, I think it’s working!” He pulls you back more, the top of your stomach sliding against the dryer making the nastiest squeegee-like sound.

“You’re doing so so good for us.” Jeno finally manages to speak up, pouring out the entire contents of the now empty bottle in his hold, tossing it aside to massage in the mess pooling between the crevice of your ass. “Shit. What the fuck. You’re so fucking pretty down here. Of course you are, so damn pretty everywhere aren’t you?”

“Jaem, Jeno—what’s—“ you huff out, short of breath the more you get pulled out but your step-brothers thick biceps caging your hips.

Jaemin hushes you dismissively, gaining better leverage around your middle to pull you out, your sweater barely clinging to your arm anymore. “Come on Jeno, grab her legs for me.” He grunts, exuding strength he’s only had to use in the bedroom before. Lucky for you his favored positions have always left him in complete control, tossing whoever he’s fucking around to his will.

Jeno’s fast to listen to orders, especially if it means he’ll be in the perfect position to actually have you landing in his lap as if he manifested it to happen.

“Ahhh!”

Once your elbow unhooks from your sweater, you shoot out of the dryer like the log ride and Disney world, hurdled back by the extra force you and Jaemin had been using to free your upper half. The relief of finally being free washes over you, panting for breath that doesn’t reek of lint and musty heat. “Holy shit, I can’t believe it!”

Too stunned and eager to fix your sweaty locks, you nearly miss the sad pathetic groan Jeno lets out, clutching around your waist to keep you slotted against his rock hard length. “Je—oh fuck.”

Jaemin sits up on his knees, regaining his composure and breath as he wipes off his greasy palms by slapping them together repeatedly. “That was some show, look at what you’ve done. Poor Jeno looks about ready to burst.”

He crawls forward, grabbing onto your knees before you even think to slam your thighs shut, too caught up in the thick size nestled between your ass to even fully understand how naked all of you are. Naked and completely doused from neck to toe in baby oil, it almost seems too ridiculous to be real…

“Now now,” he drawls, relaxing between your thighs only held open by his palms cupped under the pits of your knees. “In a sense, this is like pulling out the Excalibur..”

“Dude, I’m fucking dying here! Be fucking for real!” Jeno sounds more desperate than you’ve ever heard him, whining like a puppy into your shoulder and apologizing with a feather light kiss.

Jaemin laughs, could even qualify as a cackle, smoothing down to your inner thighs. “Don’t you think we’ve earned a prize from our princess?”

The sweet charming smile you’re used to seems more menacing than ever now as he inches lower, heavy palms cupping your inner thighs and pulling apart your cunt with his thumbs to show off how wet you are. “Is all that for us? You nasty dumb little slut. Want your big brother’s to fuck your holes so bad don’t you?” Jaemin finishes with a hot wad of spit landing at your entrance to further drill in your shame, shivering back into Jeno’s hold as he sets a searing kiss on your clit.

“Fuck Jeno, she’s so tight.” Dragging through your folds he stretches his digits out for you to see the thick mix of baby oil and slick arousal forming clear strings between his fingers.

“Wetter than a fucking slut.” Jeno bites your earlobe, trailing one of his palms down the smooth expanse of your stomach to your clit. “Let me fuck her ass first at least.”

“Huh? N-no—not there, I haven’t before.”

Jaemin’s tongue clicks, kissing the backs of his teeth and squinting his eyes as if to call your bluff. He reaches between your split ass, thumb pressing to your rim meeting tight resistance. “Fuck, she’s not lying.”

Jeno can feel a prickle of tears burning at the backs of his eyes, his sack drawn up tight and heavy from being edged this long. “I can’t anymore!” He really can’t, he’s been hard since you mimicked the forgettable skanks that pass in and out of his bedroom. None of them would ever match up to you, only confirmed as his hips lift up and the tip of his cock struggles to penetrate past your wet tight circle of muscle. That doesn’t stop him from using his hold around your waist to his advantage, gliding you down his length with ease the more pilant you turn in his arms.

“Fuckkkkkkkkkkkk.” He thinks he might cum from this alone. Pussy walls too smooth around his size, sucking along each pulsing vein as he inches in until he meets resistance and has to bite down on your shoulder to stop himself from screaming out.

“Greedy motherfucker.” Jaemin mutters, pushing the backs of your knees up higher until you’re pretzeled between the large sculpted bodies of your step-brothers, the same two whose names you’ve cried into your pillow with your hand down your pajama pants many nights.

Jeno rips a fresh batch of tears out of you, the stretch of his cock bordering painful if not for how obscenely wet you are, but the moans singing from deep within your chest are short lived; cut off by a thick prod at the top of your entrance right above the length already filling you up.

“I’ll fuck your ass next time.” Jaemin groans, shoving his cock in against the push he’s met with between your tight hole and his brother’s unrelenting thrusts. “That’s it, taking both of our dicks baby? So easily too? Who knew my baby sister was such a fucking slut.”

“N-no, not—a slut..” you wail, unable to handle how hard and big they both feel thrusting inside of you at different times. The friction cuts off your breath, sucking in your stomach to pull away from the fast unforgiving speed they both fuck into you. “S’too much! Too full!”

“Like that baby? So fucking full with both of us inside of you.” Jeno sounds strangled, pouring sweat the more he exerts himself to fuck into you faster and harder than Jaemin. He should have fucked you first to begin with. “Feel us both sliding into you? Taking two dicks like nothing, you know what that makes you?”

“A dirty fuck hole,” Jaemin says between clenched teeth, reaching for your neck to hold your head up and watch your eyes well up with tears, nodding and agreeing with everything they say just like the good little fuck toy you are, only for them.

“You can’t even wait for it, can you?” Jaemin manages to rasp out, throat locking up with each bury of his size engulfed in your tight heat. He grips your cheeks roughly with his palm cupping your chin. “What. A. Fucking. Whore..” He says it in a nasty tone on purpose to make your stomach turn, hitting deep inside with pointed demanding thrusts between each word. The shame of letting both your step-brothers fuck you is already enough to weigh 500 pounds of guilt down on your chest, but letting them both do it at the same time..

Everything crashes hard, unable to fall back or arch forward between their burly builds. Too overwhelmed, overheated and crazed with each sheathing thrust, your neck drops back gasping for air; weakly slapping Jaemin’s shoulders as tremors roll up from your toes to your shoulders and your eyes roll up. The squeeze around their lengths almost has them both slipping out as you cum and pour out more arousal around them, both using the extra glide to fuck you faster through your orgasm.

“I’m cl-close.” Jeno’s eyes practically match yours, wet from the maddening clamp around his throbbing member. “Can’t… fucking..” Pushing you forward against Jaemin’s chest he pulls out, pussy snapping around his cock noisily with gushing wetness following. It only takes one stroke to have him spilling out onto your ass with a chorus of curses and muffled shouts, slapping his length down on the rounded part of your butt to watch his cum dribble down between your ass faster. “Fuck me.”

He’d pass out clean if not for his brother pushing you right back to where you were against his chest, slamming his dick back into you without anything to hold him back anymore.

“Jaemin!” You scream, reaching for his shoulders to slow down the viscous grueling slap of skin colliding with skin, bounced up and down his length as if you weigh nothing to him.

“Fucking take it.” He growls, thrusts turning erratic as each vein lining his neck bursts out, skin pink and hot from driving all of his power into each ram of his hips. Each plunge of his size backed with intent to leave a mark. Stuttering forward, his head falls back releasing a long winded groan, chest rising against your face as his eyes roll up and he hits peak deep within you.

“Y-you—you came inside?” You ask, still coming down from your high, neck rolling against Jeno’s shoulder. “I-inside of me?”

Jaemin grunts, slamming in one final thrust with a pained expression, you just feel too good to stop. “You’re on the pill anyway, don’t be so dramatic.”

Jeno scoffs behind you, shoving between your bodies to push Jaemin’s weight off of you. “You’re such a dick.”

Jaemin smirks proudly, slowly drawing free from your wrecked cunt. “God baby, how am I supposed to stop now?” He lets out a deep breathy sigh, reaching between your tighs to circle your entrance for the rest of his cum to trickle out onto the floor and run down your ass. “Such a perfect pussy.”

“C-can’t— no more Jaem.” You mumble half-asleep, turning your face to burrow in Jeno’s neck. “Tired.”

“You heard her, Jeno.” Jaemin raises his full eyebrows up and down, sneaking his brother a knowing look. “She can’t handle me anymore.”

Jeno nods, dragging his lips down the side of your face to your mouth. “He’s right angel, how are we supposed to stop now?” With that he moves your hips back, lining his hardening length up with your gaped entrance. The space molded from your step-brother's combined cocks allows him to fully enter you with one hard thrust, cursing against the corner of your lips.

“Je-jeno—please..”

“Yeah, it’s all for you baby.” His arms wrap around your waist, pushing you down until you’re crushing his balls.

“Ca-can’t—“ the last thing you hear is Jaemin cooing on and on about how adorable you are, still squirting out a mess of arousal even as your eyes fall shut and Jeno continues to brutally snap his hips up.

“Didn’t she say something about a date tonight?” Jaemin’s voice comes through muffled, it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes since the three of you finished, judging from the burning crave for more between your thighs.

“Yeah, about that..” Jeno whispers, sounding more distant. “Think I heard her telling her friend she’s going out with that guy from Chicago, you know that big motherfucker down the street.”

“What??” Jaemin barks out much too loud, completely erasing the last bits of exhaustion away from your body. “He’s way too old for her!”

“I know. We can’t let her go, right?” Jeno sounds more stressed than his brother, mumbling like he’s chewing on one of his nails. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable knowing she’s out there with him of all people. That guys a dick..”

“He has a huge dick too.” Jaemin retorts, clicking his tongue annoyed. “Why don’t we tell her he called and said he couldn’t make it tonight? Change of plans or something.” He nods to your phone, inching closer to sneak it away, pinching the device between his fingers.

“She’s going to hate us if she finds out.” Jeno snatches your phone from him, typing in the code he’s seen you punch in while peeping over your shoulder. “It’s for her own good.” He finds your chat with Johnny in an instance, scrolling through quickly and sending himself the different scandalous selfies you’ve messaged. “Little slut..”

“Send me those too.” Jaemin pipes in, nudging his brother's side. “We should wake her up, it’s getting chilly out here.”

“Can’t believe she knocked out like that, her friend even left already.”

“Mmmhhhmm.. Jeno..”

They come to a pause, locking your phone after successfully deleting your chat with Johnny and blocking his number. Jaemin mouths ‘wake her up’ to his brother, shoving his shoulder to move closer to you.

“Hey..” Jeno sits at the edge of the pool chair you’re laid out on, reaching to tap your arm. “You should wake up.”

“Few more minutes..” you grumble, slapping his hand away. Jeno coughs, grabbing both your shoulders to shake you awake.

“It’s been long enough, come on, time to wake up!”

“Wh—how long have I been asleep?” The sun’s still setting behind the expanse of Jeno and Jaemin’s broad frames, making your eyes squint shut as you sit up quickly and pat around. “What.. what are we doing out here?!?”

Jeno helps you sit up, patting your back. “Hopefully you don’t get sick from sleeping out here for so long, we thought you’d gone inside.” He leaves out the mention of your date, sneaking a look at his brother.

“Wha—“ a fast glance around clears up your confusion. You had fallen asleep in the backyard. “It was all a dream?!”

“What was?” Jaemin asks, raising a suspicious eyebrow at your frazzled response. “What was all a dream, huh?”

“I—uhm..” your step-brothers eye you quizzically, both intimidating as they stand above you waiting for an answer. “Nightmare! I mean, about the dog next door.” You scramble to get up, stumbling forward as you try to shove your feet into your sandals.

“Where are you running off to?” Jeno says, arm looping around your waist before your knees can meet pavement. “Can’t be that silly date, he called while you were knocked out to cancel anyway.”

Hoisting you up he pushes you toward Jaemin, back crashing against his chest to easily lock you in place with his thick biceps caged around your sides, lips finding your ear to whisper. “Now, tell us more about this dream.”

#jeno smut #jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #kpop smut #nct dream fanfiction #nct fanfiction #neopuppy fics #nct dream imagines #lee jeno fanfic #na jaemin fanfic

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alisonwritesimagines · 8 months

Text

I Was Enchanted to Meet You ~LA!Shanks x Reader~

Summary: Shanks comes back to you before he leaves your village once again. Except this time, it may be your final goodbye.

Author’s Note: I just watched the live action One Piece show and I have to say... I am a slut for Buggy, Shanks, and Mihawk.

Fluff Ending | Angst Ending

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of smut, reader and Shanks being Luffy's adoptive parents in a way

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

You were Luffy's caretaker and teacher. While his grandfather was a high respected Marine, he entrusted you with his grandson whenever he wasn't available to take care of him.

"I'm bored of this," Luffy said as you two were going over some reading.

"A good pirate should know how to read."

"Yeah but I should be preparing to set sail when Shanks comes back," Luffy said.

"How about this? We can go see Shanks today since he is suppose to be back today after we finish our lesson?" You asked him.

"Alright!" Luffy smiled before looking down at his book.

True to your word, you both headed over to the dock where you saw Shanks's ship. You watched as Luffy rushed over to the deck before helping out.

"Luffy! I was wondering when you'd pop up," Shanks said as he finally noticed the small boy. You leaned against the edge while Shanks looked around before finally seeing you. His smile widen a little more before walking over towards you.

"And how are you, my dear Y/n?" Shanks asked as he raised your hand to his lips.

"Nice to see you again Shanks," you smiled at him.

"I'm not joking! I'm ready to join your crew," Luffy insisted to Shanks.

"The sea isn't a child's game. It's dangerous. The scars on my face are proof of that. Besides, I need someone to watch over Y/n and I trust you," Shanks told Luffy as he continued to help his crew unload their ship.

"I can do it, Shanks. I swear," Luffy said.

"You're not ready."

"I am. And I'll show you!" Luffy said before rushing off in the ship. You walked over to Shanks before placing your hand on his. He looked over at you as you gave him a look.

"You really need to be more easy on him. You know how he can be," you tell Shanks.

"Better a disappointed kid now than a dead one later."

"I blame you for being a good pirate and influencing him," you tell him.

"I missed you. Let's celebrate my return tonight together shall we?" Shanks asked you.

"Hey, Shanks!" You heard Luffy. You quickly turned around to see Luffy standing on the top of the view port making you gasp once you saw the knife.

"Luffy! You better come back down here and put that knife back where you found it!" You tell him.

"Listen to Y/n, Luffy. Before you hurt yourself," Shanks called out.

"I'm not afraid of getting hurt. And I'll prove it to you," Luffy yelled before stabbing right below his eye.

"Luffy!" You screamed in shock and horror.

"Get the first aid kit! I'll get him down," Shanks told you. You nodded before rushing out of the ship to grab your first aid kit.

"Why would you do that to yourself?!" You asked Luffy as you stitched him up.

"You could've stabbed your eye," Shanks told him as he sat next to you.

"I was aiming for it, but I missed," Luffy told you.

"Ow," Luffy said as you tightened the stitches a little.

"I thought you said you were tough," Shanks asked him.

"I am! Y/n is just being a little too rough. I want everyone to see my scar," Luffy said.

"Scars don't make the man, Luffy. It's the lesson behind the scar and you didn't earn this one," Shanks told him before tapping his cheek.

"Then let me earn it. I'll be the best pirate ever. Look, I've been practicing what my face is gonna look like on my wanted poster," Luffy said before making a face. You shook your head at him as you gathered your things.

"You are going to give me a heart attack, Luffy," you tell him as you ruffled his hair. You stood up and walked away to put your first aid kit back.

When you made it back to the bar, you saw Shanks walk up to your with your favorite drink. You sat on the chair next to the bar as you faced Shanks. He raised the glasses to you with a smile.

"Have a drink with me," Shanks told you.

"I need to look after Luffy."

"One drink. Then later tonight, you meet me at my ship and we can have our little reunion?" Shanks insisted.

It was no doubt that the two of you had feelings for one another. Shanks loved how soft and caring you were while you loved his gentle touch when it came to you.

"Fine. I hope I don't find anything that belongs to another woman in your ship again," you tell him, remembering the last time you went to his ship after Luffy was asleep.

"It was one time and you know I changed my ways for you," Shanks said as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You took a swing of your drink before giving him a light kiss on the cheek.

Once it became nightfall, you got Luffy ready for bed so you could meet with Shanks. After finding out that he ate a devil fruit, you were livid but you knew that Luffy didn't understand what power and weaknesses the devil fruit had affected him.

"I don't know why you won't let us go with Shanks," Luffy said as you tucked him in.

"You know that the sea isn't for me and you aren't ready to be a pirate. Even if you did eat a devil's fruit," you tell him.

"But you and Shanks love each other. Why can't we just sail with him? I can learn how to be a pirate and I'm stronger now," Luffy said.

"Your grandfather will kill me if I just took you away. And like I said, I am not too fond of the sea. Now it's time for bed for you," you tell him.

"Fine. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight, Luffy."

Once he was fully asleep, you walked over to Shanks's ship where you could see his quarter's lights on. You walked over to his room where he lied on his bed with his shirt off.

"Getting straight to the point now are we?" You teased as you closed the door behind you. You locked the door before walking over towards his bed. Shanks sat up so you could stand in between his legs.

"I missed you, my love," Shanks said as he pulled you down on the bed with him.

He cupped your cheeks as he kissed you passionately. You cupped his cheeks as well, smoothing your thumb against his scars below his eye.

"I missed you too," you tell him in between kisses.

"Let me have you for tonight," Shanks said as he undid your dress. You sat up before slipping it off of your body.

"You're as beautiful as the day I met you," Shanks praised as he sat up to kiss your body.

"How long are you staying this time?" You asked him as you both lied in his bed. Your naked bodies was covered by the thin blanket as you both held onto each other.

"Till tomorrow," Shanks told you.

"How long will you be gone?" You asked. Shanks stayed quiet making you look up at him.

"Shanks. How long will you be gone?" You repeated.

"We're not coming back this time, my love," Shanks told you.

"What?"

"Come with me. I'll take care of you and-"

"Shanks, my home is here. And I can't leave Luffy. He's still a growing boy and I could never forgive myself if I were to abandon him," you tell him as you sat up.

"My love-"

"Shanks, I'm not joining you in the sea and you know why. I'm sorry," you tell him as you got up and put your clothes back on.

"Stay the night. Please," Shanks said as he held your hand.

"I can't. I think it's best if we ended this," you tell him.

"I don't want this to end. Please, Y/n. Come with me to find the One Piece and we can live our lives out together," Shanks told you. You shook your head at him before giving him one last kiss.

"I love you, Shanks. But I can't leave here. Not yet at least," you tell him before walking out.

The next day, you watched as Shanks says his goodbye to Luffy. You stared as he gave his hat to Luffy before making eye contact with you. He walked over towards you before taking something out of his pocket.

"I saw this while I was away and wanted to give it to you," Shanks said as he held out a beautiful ring.

"Shanks-"

"I just want you to know that I want you, my love. Will you wait for me?" Shanks asked.

"You need to find that one piece soon so you can come back and get me," you tell him with a small smile.

"I'll come back for you. I promise," Shanks said before sliding the ring onto your finger. He quickly gave you a kiss before walking away.

You put an arm around Luffy as you watched Shanks's ship sail off. You both waved at him as he stared at the two of you.

"When I become King of the Pirates, I'll give you a nice home where you and Shanks can live the rest of your lives together," Luffy tells you. You smiled down at him before ruffling his hair.

"I'll hold you to that," you tell him.

#red hair shanks #live action shanks #shanks x reader #live action shanks x reader #akagami no shanks #akagami no shanks x reader #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #peter gadiot #enchanted universe #alisonwritesimagines

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arminsumi · 7 months

Text

Scary Movie Night

G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader

🔞 mdni / nsfw / smutty

NOTE : i have no idea, i just wrote and wrote and then a 4k fic came out. i was supposed to be watching scream and totally got sidetracked with this daydream of watching a horror movie with stsg and then you and gojo just start making out when he leaves 🥴

SUMMARY — the three of you planned to watch horror movies all night, but instead you started making out with Satoru on the couch after a long tension built up between you.

WARNINGS — not proofread pls ignore errors, cheesy, spicy make out, dry humping, smutty, sexual tension, heavy flirting and teasing, something between u and Suguru 🤭, lighthearted jealousy, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, princess etc), gojo is so bratty, kinda sub!gojo stuff but he's also a bit dom??, lap straddling, Suguru walks in on you two

WORDCOUNT — 4k

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

"AAA ~ !! "

And the first character of the movie dies, of course, you already knew that because Satoru so kindly spoiled it minutes earlier.

"Seriously? I could scream more convincingly than that."

"I need proof." Suguru jokes teasingly, arm draping sultrily over the couch riiight around your shoulders. He stuffs some caramelized popcorn in his mouth. How can he make even the act of eating popcorn look so sultry and attractive?

"Shut up." you shake your head and smile. "This movie's so cheesy, which one of you picked it out again?"

"Satoru."

"Hey! Cheesy isn't bad. And besides, the killer's a hottie."

You chuckle with Suguru. "So we're watching horror movies because the killer is hot?"

Satoru shrugs like it's obvious, scooting closer to you as inconspicuously as he can. But he's not smooth like Suguru; you notice the increased proximity and roll your eyes.

"Yeah, why else would you watch a horror film?" Satoru says.

Suguru responds, "Ah... maybe because you want to get scared?"

"Eh!" Satoru waves his hand dismissively.

You decide to tease him a bit just to get a reaction out of him. He's so easy to tease. "I get it. Satoru's too scared to watch something that's actually scary."

He glares at you immediately. You laugh, Suguru stifles his laugh and habitually rubs his index finger back and forth across his upper lip. (And he even manages to make that attractive.)

"I'm not scared of anything! I can watch any horror movie, no problem." Satoru boasts.

"Okay, big boy, let's put in something that's actually scary." Suguru teases.

"Ooh, how about the Grudge?" You suggest.

"Nah, too scary for me." Suguru admits.

"Can't handle a real scary movie, huh big boy?" Satoru mocks spitefully.

Suguru looks over at him and raises his brows very high. There's a tension between them, but then it breaks when Suguru decides to swap out the movies. The cheesy one is tossed, and hello the Grudge; you're nervously fidgeting and curling up in anticipation when the intro starts rolling.

"Be right back, getting refills. Satoru don't eat too many sweets you're gonna go into a sugar coma." Suguru sighs right after he says that, because the white-haired menace shovels a handful of sweets into his mouth and chews.

And he chews as loudly as possible right next to your ear. Chew chew chew.

"Satoru, I swear to god."

He giggles mischievously, stealing a sideways glance at you.

Why does she look so good tonight? This isn't fair.

The movie's starting, Suguru's trying not to make too much noise as he rifles around in the kitchen for refills. Such a sweetheart, he's refilling your drink without you even needing to ask.

Before his best friend can reassume that suggestive arm-draped-over-the-couch-but-really-over-your-shoulders position, Satoru does it; you feel the warmth and slight plush press of his toned arm against the back of your head.

Suguru doesn't think much of it and just sits back down normally. Though you do feel a bit sandwiched between them. But that's not uncommon in your friendship; they've been sandwiching you between them since highschool.

Satoru audibly swallows, but covers it up by making obnoxiously loud noises; shifting his legs, tucking them, untucking them, putting them over your lap and cheekily smiling until you scowl and push his legs off and then he pouts. He pouts so genuinely that you apologetically allow him to put his thigh over yours, just how he likes to do when the both of you are sitting side-by-side.

The movie's rolling. All three of you have your eyes glued to the screen. Satoru can feel you start to scrunch your shoulders up, so he teases (and talks during the movie, like he always does).

"You gettin' scared, princess?" he smirks. "Should I hold you — "

"SHHH!!" you and Suguru hush him in sync.

Satoru rolls his eyes and shuts up, but only for a little while. Then he pipes up again.

"Man, this isn't even scary, we should put something else in — "

"SHHH!!"

He shuts up. And then, the funniest thing happens.

Satoru starts getting scared. Suguru notices it, but you don't; and it makes him quietly smirk. He would never expose his friend like that right in front of his crush, though. So he doesn't tease and just casually watches the movie, completely immune to the horrors.

You can feel Satoru tensing up, but then as if he notices you noticing, he relaxes his muscles. Then he clears his throat loudly.

"SHHH!!"

"Sorry! Jesus I can't even clear my throat? Bleh."

"Satoru, quiet."

He pouts. Now it's silent again, except for the movie playing and the rain beginning to hit the window softly. The room is dimly lit, and the atmosphere isn't eerie but horror movies always change that.

It's raining, raining, raining, the movie is playing, the three of you are sinking into the couch, invested.

Then there's a small, sudden thunder crack and it makes Satoru jolt like a cat.

"Haha." Suguru stifles his laugh.

Satoru pokes hard at his cheek. "Shut up."

You tease, "Gettin' scared, princess?" you mimic mockingly.

"Yeah right! I can feel you trembling besides me." Satoru grumbles, unexpectedly defensive.

"Oh yeah. I'm just so terrified. Hug me, Satoru, I'm scared." you joke sarcastically. But sarcastic or not, his heart lurches.

You don't notice until you're halfway through the movie, but Satoru was the one trembling; very subtly. You can even feel the thighs of his muscle tensing up — he's still resting his leg on top of your thigh, unmoving. Why would he move? He's comforted by your body warmth. He needs that right now.

There's another thunder crack, and it makes both you and Satoru jump this time.

"Haha. Wimps." Suguru laughs, playfully mocking the both of you.

"Ah shut up!" you furrow your brows.

"Y/n, if you're scared you can cuddle m — "

" — meee, you can cuddle me, baby." Satoru interrupts Suguru, resulting in a funny side-eye moment between the two of them. Suguru shakes his head.

Satoru's scooting even closer, pressing his body against yours. Side by side. Warm. Firm and soft. Basically cuddling. You're sure you couldn't be any closer, but then Satoru manages to become even closer.

Your words echo in his head and for some reason, get him feeling hot beneath the hem of his pajama pants.

Hug me, Satoru, I'm scared.

Seriously? Did you realize how hot you were? How dare you say something like that?

He craves more intimacy with you. And he's no stranger to just randomly rearranging your body or playing with it, he's always been touchy since high school. Like a cat, he only gets physical and comfortable with calm people like you and Suguru.

So he takes his thigh off your thigh, right? And then two big hands grab your thighs, press them together and put them right over his lap.

"What the hell...?" you laugh under your breath.

"Isn't this comfier?" Satoru murmurs sensually, lips grazing your cheek.

"Augh, get a room you two. Gonna make me nauseous." Suguru grimaces.

"You're just jealous!" Satoru giggles, trying his best to not look at the TV screen.

"SHUT... up and watch the movie. Your talking is distracting me." Suguru complains.

"Ughhh, but it's so boring I don't even wanna — " he pulls up the blanket over yours and his head. " — watch it anymore. Oh hey, this is intimate, isn't it? Hehe."

"Satoru! I wanna see the movie!"

"No you don't, you're scared shitless."

Suguru's just sitting to your left, shaking his head as he listens to you two flirt under the blanket as if it magically enclosed you into a space away from the world.

"I can hear you two." he grumbles. "If you're gonna make out, at least do it quietly."

"We're not making out!" you squeal embarrassedly, even though Suguru was clearly joking. There was no sign of making out happening under that blanket.

"...yet." Satoru winks, but you miss it because it's so dark now with the blanket draped over the two of you.

You can almost feel him blinking at you. Even if it's dark and impossible to see you, Satoru will still try to; he's just always been like that, ever since you first met him. In fact, on the first day you met him, he wouldn't stop staring at you, as if he was captivated or fixated on some aspect of your face or behavior. Completely spellbound, starstruck, heart-eyed...

Suguru excuses himself to the bathroom so you two can have your little moment.

You ripple the blanket off your head to look at him as he leaves. "Bring back those pretzel snacks."

"M'kay, angel." Suguru hums.

"Thanks, my boy."

Satoru looks at you very dramatically.

"What?"

"What the hell? I'm right here! You know I'm the one who's had a crush on you all these years, not him! RIGHT SUGURU?"

There's a hesitation, then Suguru confirms from the bathroom even though he didn't hear a damn thing. He just agreed because it's his best friend asking for a confirmation.

"YUP THAT'S RIGHT."

"See! What, why are you laughing?" Satoru starts to smile because you're starting to break down into laughter.

He's facing you now. And it makes the both of you aware of just how much bigger he is, and how much smaller you are. Daddy long legs aside, he's just bigger than you; the broadness of his shoulders, the size of his hands — even his ears, which he remembers you used to tease him about in high school. He's got those cute ears that poke out a bit.

"Satoru..." you murmur against his face.

His heart pangs. "Huh?" he's so caught off guard, expecting you to lean in for a kiss. So he surreptitiously wets his lips with a swift swipe of his tongue.

"...you know, I'm sorry for always teasing you about your ears in high school. Looking at them now, they're really cute." you admit, hand coming up to caress his ear; fingers just grazing his sharp undercut.

His stomach knots up, and he goes silent, too stunned to respond. "Oh... thanks..."

You're side-eyeing the movie for a moment, and poor you; it's at just the right moment for a terrible jumpscare.

You reactively grab for Satoru's shirt and arm, squeezing tight and nearly yelping because you were caught so off-guard. Your heart is racing and so is his; but not because of the movie.

"I hate this film!" you whine into his chest, and he thinks he's in heaven right then. Is his crush really holding onto him during a scary movie? Um, hell to the yes. This is his dream. This is exactly what he wanted out of this experience, as cheesy as it is, he doesn't care that it's cheesy in fact he likes that it's cheesy.

"Tell me about it..." he huffs under his breath, and it fans your face and he can feel it come back to him. That excites him so much.

"And it's all your fault we're watching it, 'cuz you had to show off your 'manliness' or whatever! So Stupid!"

"Yeah, but, it got you in my arms, so it wasn't such a bad idea." he flirts with a slight nervous shake in his voice.

"Huh?" you look into his eyes. Ooh boy, he's holding it in. He's refraining. He's tying his hands behind his back, metaphorically; but not for long...

"What? I've got a pretty girl clinging to me 'cuz she's scared of a horror movie. And it's a rainy night. Bonus points." he smirks.

"Oh shut up... stop flirting with me or I'll — "

" — you like it, don't you? Being this close?"

You look at him in surprise. Where did that serious tone come from? It's laced with something sexual that just raises the excitement in the air between you and him. He's on edge. He has to kiss you. He's thinking about it so hard that he's sure he'll just snap at any moment.

"Y-yeah..." you admit.

You're suddenly so conscious of the closeness. The slight press of his biceps as his arms ensnare you, how you're practically sitting on top of him — when did that happen? His breath smells like the sweets he's been snacking on all night.

His breath fans your face and now he's really thinking about it as he stares at your lips.

"You sooo wanna kiss me." he cheekily teases you.

"Ew, cheesy." you cringe at him. You playfully shield yourself by putting your hand over his lips. His pretty nose peaks over the edge of your palm.

When you cover half his face like this, you realize just how striking his eyes are. Even in the dim light, they're capable of holding your whole attention. The movie is just another background noise.

"Mmf."

"What was that, loser? Can't hear what you're saying. Speak up." you tease.

"Mmf mm-hmmf-hmf? hmf hmf." it sounds like he's offended, and then he's snatching your hand away and climbing on top of you.

He's soaking up your every giggle. And underneath his playfulness, he's trying to show off his strength. Not like you notice, you're just enjoying it; being pinned under him like you're the tiniest thing on the planet to him.

Now he lifts his hips away from you, so you don't feel how hard he's getting. He can feel himself throbbing in his pajama pants. Such cute pants for the fact he's got a big cock underneath them

There's very little space to think when he's so chokingly close to you. His scent pervades your senses. His whole essence invades your space. It's just Satoru Satoru Satoru, nothing else is in your head. And for him, it's just you you you, nothing else is in his head, either.

His eyes roam up and down your body in one small moment, it excites his fantasies. Now he's wondering not just about what your lips taste and feel like, but also about what your body tastes and feels like; he knows one thing's for sure, and that's your softness. He's hugged you like he's trying to crush your bones in the past, and muttered praises about how impossibly soft your little body is in his.

"See that?" he murmurs, blurting out his thoughts without thinking, "Our bodies fit together perfectly. 'sure our lips would, too."

"Wow... where did that come from... you just gave me butterflies, Satoru." you chuckle nervously against his lips.

He's so tempted. He's right on the edge. Why's he holding back? He's forgotten by now.

"Good..." he mutters suggestively against your lips, eyes beginning to become lidded with sultriness as he leans in for a kiss.

And oh wow... that's a kiss he won't forget for the rest of his life. It's soft. He melts against you like butter in the sun. He was so right; your bodies fit together perfectly, and so do your lips.

" 'Toru..." you mumble his sweet nickname into his mouth and it nearly makes him moan, but he holds it in and kisses you like a gentle boy.

He's trying so hard to mask his horniness, but it's showing through; he's starting to shake from how bad he wants you. This kiss is enough until it's not; and then he turns up the heat. His lips glide over yours, wet sounds fill the room and the horror movie keeps playing in the background.

Kiss kiss kiss. He's kissing you like he's scared he'll never be able to after this moment, like this is the only time he'll have the courage to kiss you. And that courage and confidence falters mid-kiss, because he wonders worryingly if you crave him as badly as he craves you.

"Don't pull away... " you mutter against his saliva-wettened lips.

He breathes excitedly, eyes lighting up at your words. "Nah, if you want more kisses... 'gonna have to come get 'em." he pulls back, and you immediately miss the feeling of his torso pressing against yours.

"Teasing bitch, damn!" you complain, "Come back — kiss me more — oh you're so annoying!"

He giggles, lips feeling tingly. His heart is beating so hard he can feel it all over his chest and cheeks. And those poor cheeks. He hasn't blushed this boyishly since the last time you gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"Come get your kisses ~ " he teases, beckoning you with his finger. Oh you hate when his confidence swells so suddenly like this, he becomes a menace. Well... 'hate'. You love it. He knows it. That's why he does it.

"Don't wink at me, you freak..." you crawl on top of his lap, and he didn't expect that even though he should have.

So now your face drops in surprise and amusement. "Oh... oh. Getting a lil' excited, big boy?"

A noise comes out of him, his face stuck with this embarrassed smiling expression. "Uh... uhah. Haha. A little bit? Shit don't blame me, you're fucking hot."

"Mmm, am I?" you lean close, lips grazing across his lips, eyes staring into his eyes. He feels electrified.

"Wow... uh..."

"Speechless, 'Toru? That's so unlike you." you tease him in such a low voice that he leaks a little precum. And you can feel it.

"W-wow... what... no... I'm not... holy shit... haha..." and then he laughs it off, nervously placing his hands on your hips. "D-don't straddle me like this, you'll make it worse."

"I'll make what worse?" you tease dirtily.

You give him so many butterflies right then that he starts feeling a bit lightheaded.

"My... uh... nothing..."

"...your? Continue. What were you gonna say? Now you've got my attention and we're all alone..." you keep teasing and it keeps making his heart flutter.

Wow. Call me lucky. She's straddling my fucking lap and teasing me? Am I dreaming?

"Wow... you're so speechless." you chuckle.

"Fuck off... what d'you expect... you're the one sitting on my dick..."

"... oh, sorry." you mutter a teasing apology and begin to move away, but his hands grip tightly and refuse to let you go.

"Stay."

"Ooh, now you're dom? Really thought you were sub for a second there." you cheek.

"Cheeky bitch..." he mutters before crashing his lips haphazardly against yours.

And surprisingly, the second kiss feels better than the first. It's electric. Your bodies are on fire and all the two of you are really thinking about is taking this to the bedroom.

Subconsciously grinding on his lap, feeling the outline of his cock, even feeling the wetness a bit as his tip digs between your thighs. You're starting to feel lightheaded now, too, with how he's kissing you.

"Trynna... t-turn me on or something...?" you giggle into his mouth.

His big hands come to cup your cheeks, trusting that those hips won't attempt to move off his lap again.

"... yeah..." he breaths heavily, looking at you so deeply that you feel like he's staring into your soul.

The moment is so hot and steamy that you feel like there's visible heat clouds hanging over the two of you. But then the moment is interrupted —

"Are you guys done making out — OH HAHA WERE YOU ACTUALLY MAKING OUT? I was just kidding — WHAT THE FUCK WHY ARE YOU GUYS ON TOP OF EACH OTHER! THIS IS HORROR FILM NIGHT NOT PORN NIGHT!" Suguru starts laughing, clutching his stomach.

"Party pooper!" Satoru frowns over at him from underneath you. You're mortified and laughing like a seal, slowly getting off Satoru's lap which makes him whine.

"What the hell! That's funny, were you two seriously fucking in front of a horror movie. Satoru, that's not classy at all."

"Shut! Up!" You throw a pillow at him, and he comes over to throw a snack packet at you, cheekily smiling. "We were not fucking!"

"Sooo... just dry humping?" Suguru teases.

"SHUT UP!" you and Satoru yell in unison, both completely embarrassed. Suguru laughs so hard that his cheeks hurt.

"And anyways, take this damn movie out, it's creepy! I'm not gonna sleep tonight..."

"...aw, big baby's scared of horror films after all. I knew you were bluffing. Y/n, will you sleep with my best friend tonight? I think otherwise he'll be sucking his thumb and not getting any rest."

"Oh you're sooo dead, come here." Satoru glares playfully at him and climbs over you to get to Suguru.

And the boys start playfighting, and you shake your head and get up to take the movie out yourself.

"I'm getting my own apartment one day, I swear. Living with you two is a nightm-AAAAHH!!' you whine, seeing the creepiest thing yet on the TV.

They laugh at you together, and it reminds you of high school so much at you feel a wave of nostalgia.

"No more scary movies!" you declare. "Never again!"

"Aw, but they brought you and Satoru closer together. I think next time you guys are too shy to kiss or fuck, just put in a horror film and it'll get the atmosphere right."

"Suguru, be careful what you say. Remember you don't pay rent."

Satoru cackles. "That's right!"

"Wow, what the hell... I'm never letting you borrow another hoodie." he retorts, purposefully bringing up the hoodie thing just to catch you and Satoru off-guard.

"WHAT! You what?! What??" Satoru is in between being playfully jealous and genuinely jealous.

"Suguru!" you cover your face out of embarrassment. You feel lightheaded from all the butterflies that the both of them cause in you.

"I didn't say anything." Suguru acts nonchalant, tearing into the snacks that were supposed to be for you.

"You! Gave her! Your hoodies!? This isn't gonna be a polyamorous thing, I'm possessive you know that!" Satoru's playfully battering his friend and his friend isn't reacting to it, which makes it all the more amusing. He's just languidly chewing on snacks.

"She asked for them." Suguru exposes.

Satoru stops and looks at you like he's been betrayed.

"Suguru!" You squeal, "Nono, Satoru he's lying — "

"YOU CAN HAVE MY HOODIES, WHY WOULD YOU WANT HIS!!" Satoru's getting louder and funnier by the minute.

"I'm sorry I didn't know I could ask for your hoodies." you blabber.

Suguru's watching you and Satoru like you're a comedy show, dusting the sugar coating of the candy off on his pajama pants.

"Of course you can have my fucking hoodies you idiot! I'll give you this one right now, damn it!" Satoru says.

"STOP TAKING YOUR SHIRT OFF — " you cover your eyes.

Suguru laughs, "As if you weren't planning to take it off earlier?"

"Exactly! Here, take it." a shirtless Satoru is shoving his red hoodie onto you.

"You two are ridiculous. I'm going to bed."

"TAKE MY HOODIE."

"NO."

"SO YOU'LL RUB YOUR COOCHIE ON ME BUT NOT WEAR MY HOODIE?"

"HAHAHA WHAT?"

"SATORU!! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!"

Suguru's caving in with laughter after Satoru says that. His laughs always become soundless after a while, it's the cutest thing. His whole face is stressed into amusement.

"You love me!" Satoru's darting behind the couch for protection.

"You're so dead!"

"You're turning me on with this serial killer role you're playing right now!"

"GOJO SATORU!"

Suguru looks at Satoru, "Oh no, sh-she government named you, boy. Better run." he speaks through his laughter.

"I haven't done anything!"

"YOU SHIRTLESS FREAK, YOU EMBARRASSED ME IN FRONT OF THE ONE PERSON I WANNA BE COOL IN FRONT OF!"

"Aw." Suguru blushes for you a bit, "Cute."

Satoru stops, looks between you two, and gets riled up again. "What the hell!"

"I didn't mean it like that!"

And it goes on and on like that, until the three of you are too tired to keep laughing; and you're collapsing tiredly on the bed with Satoru after chasing him there. He said a lot of embarrassing things, but you got him back for each one.

You catch your breaths, and Satoru looks over at you, suggestively wiggling his brows.

"You scared from the movie? Need a big strong man to hug you 'n kiss you?"

"Satoru, kindly shut the fuck up."

"Wow, is Nanami rubbing off on you? You sound like him."

"You're a menace."

"My dick's a menace, too."

"Hahah, yeah right."

"I'm serious!"

You giggle, looking at him enticingly, "Then, wanna prove it to me?" you say just barely above a whisper.

Satoru's face gets hot, and what do you know he's already got a tent forming in his pajama pants.

"Yeah... come here. I'll show you."

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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bluewxrld07 · 4 months

Text

Stuck (Luke Hughes)

Warning(s): none

Luke Hughes x female!reader

Summary: In which you do the famous Tik Tok trend, telling your boyfriend your tampon is stuck

It was a nicer evening in Jersey, the weather finally being decent after being knocked over by the crazy below zero insanity. Y/n was finishing up her skincare waiting for Luke and Jack to get back to the apartment from an evening practice, a plan in motion to prank Luke.

It had become a thing between the couple to prank one another after a night post a game, when Luke decided to bring home squid thrown on the ice by a fan.

Leaving it in the fridge for y/n to only yell out a scream at the rotting sea creature the next morning, trying to get her coffee before her workout.

She had been doing her digging for this next prank, knowing it was time for her to hit him with one. This one was more so a test too. A loyalty test if you will. Thanks to Tik Tok of course.

One afternoon, y/n was scrolling through her for you page, only to stumble upon a prank a girlfriend did to her boyfriend. A tampon prank. She immediately grinned ear to ear, knowing that this little test would get Luke to cave.

It had to at least. Especially sine she was actually on her time of the month. It would be more believable.

So after finishing her skincare, hearing the front door open, she set her phone up in a way where it wouldn't look suspicious or seen easily by the curly-headed boy.

"May the pranks be ever in your favor, Hughesy," she chuckles quietly to the phone, hearing her name being called out.

"Babe?" he calls out, his footsteps being heard down the hallway.

She could hear the brothers saying goodnight to one another, his bedroom door opening. "Baby, you good?" she hears on the other side of the door, the girl trying to hide her amused smile before answering.

"I uh," she says slowly. "Luke?" she says, biting her lip to hide her laugh.

"What's going on?" he asks, the girl opening the door. He scans her figure, a confused frown on his face. Y/n crosses her arms, looking up at him.

"I need you to take me seriously when I tell you this, okay?" she said, watching an eyebrow of his raise.

"Why?" he trails off slowly, then his eyes widen. "Are you pregnant, y/n?"

She rolls her eyes and palms her forehead. "No, babe, I'm on my period remember?"

"Oh shit right. Then why are you acting funny?"

"You swear you won't laugh at me?"

"Promise you I won't."

Y/n sighs, hiding her face in her hands for a second as they stood there. "I was trying to change my, you know, out," she starts off, her eyes looking up at to his.

"And I can't find the string." she says, watching his face turn contort into a frown. "What string?"

"Luke my tampon is stuck."

His eyes widen, eyebrows raise, mouth dropping slightly. "What do you mean it's stuck? Where's the little string attached to it?" he whispers in shock, running his hand over his mouth.

Y/n looks at him with a look. "Luke I just said I can't find it. It's really stuck, like I can't get it out." she says, watching his face contort to different emotions.

"So what're you going do? How're you gonna get it out?" he asks, gesturing to her lower abdomen, one hand on his hip.

She gives him a sheepish smile, watching the confusion turn to horror. "Luke," she trails off. "I need you to try and help get it out."

Luke freezes, his eyes looking back into hers, then darting down to her abdomen, then back to her eyes slowly. "Get the thing out? The thing inside you?" he asks, and she nods with a hum.

"Lu, it's really stuck. I really cannot get it out." she says in a horrified voice. He hums, staying frozen in his position.

"Do you think you can get it out?" she asks.

"Uh huh," he says softly with a nod, his horrified eyes looking into hers.

"Really? You'd help me even if it's all bloody?" she says, watching him put a hand over his mouth and nod once again. "Yeah, yup, sure would." he stutters out.

Luke runs a hand over his face, walking away from the doorway for a second, only to come back without his sweatshirt on, only clad in his t-shirt that was underneath.

"Alright baby, let's get this going," he says while shaking his arms out as if he was about to go lift something heavy. He turns on his flashlight from his phone, making his way towards her.

She immediately puts a hand on his chest, bursting into a fit of giggles. He looks at her with a frown, raising his hands up in the air. "What? I'm gonna help you get this thing out, aren't I?"

"Babe, it was a prank." she laughs, pointing to her phone. He immediately looks over at the camera, rolls his eyes, mumbles an oh thank fuck, walking out of the bathroom.

Y/n rolls her eyes at his dramatic response. "Oh stop, you loved me enough to be willing to help get it out."

He turns around to look at her and point. "Not loved. Love. watch your grammar." he retorts, walking up to her once again.

"Okay mister tough guy. But glad to know you love me enough to help me. Even if it's all messy." she chuckles, pressing a couple chaste kisses to his lips.

"Now hurry to bed, I need a good sleep tonight. I almost would've had nightmares for days." Luke jokes.

Y/n scoffs playfully. "I need to go to the bathroom actually, and then I'll be out so calm down." she says, shutting the door softly.

Luke settles into him and y/n's bed, sighing at the comfort. Smiling at his girlfriend's antics, then shaking his head. His eyes found the nightstand next to his bed, a certain velvet box hiding in the corner of the drawer.

"Lu, we actually have a real problem on our hands," Y/n calls out a few moments later. The boy closing his eyes. "And what is that?" he asks.

"It's stuck. Like for real this time."

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #y/n #hockey boys #Luke hughes fluff #Luke hughes imagine

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 1 month

Text

2.2k / 16 / gym buddy Gaz, part 4 (takes place immediately after doing push-ups with Gaz and distracting Gaz as he's counting reps and teasing your gym buddy Gaz a little too much)

...

You were always so goddamn distracting. Now that he has you, he’s gonna make it worth his time. He’s gonna get his mouth on every teasing part of you. Everything under those form-fitting workout clothes. And he’s gonna do it right here against the shower wall.

He pulls at your hips, grunting in pleasure as you grind against him, squeezing him back. You explore every bit of him that's exposed and then a few bits that aren't. It feels greedy to take every inch of him you can reach. You shouldn't be doing this. It's not like you to go so far with someone you're not dating. But Gaz is... God, he's something else. You'd swear right now he's the only man on earth who deserves your attention.

Gaz grunts with approval against your mouth and presses you against the shower wall more forcefully, burying his face into the side of your neck. You shove your hips against him harder, wanting more of him.

He slips his hand into your shorts to stroke your inner thigh. You let out a stuttering breath. Your head falls back into the tile wall with a thump, your legs twitching.

He chuckles, shifting you so he's pressing you up into the wall with his hip, giving himself space to rub his fingers into the crotch of your thong and collect the slick on your folds. God, the sounds you're making. He'd be enjoying them even more if you weren't biting your lip, trying to muffle yourself.

There's less foot traffic in the women's showers, yes, but even the sound of the water echoes around the tile room. People passing through the halls outside will hear.

The risk is nothing to him. Just a little extra thrill. He could have you two separated in half a second. But you've never done something this risky before, have you? To you, this is dangerous.

Keeping you steady on his hips, he grabs your jaw and hooks the edge of his thumb on your incisors to open your mouth up.

"Careful not to let them hear," he murmurs, enjoying the helpless need in your eyes. His thumb tightens over the edge of your lip. "You're gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?" he whispers. "Be nice and quiet?"

You return his heated stare, struggling to keep your throat closed around the sounds threatening to tear out.

He sees the challenge in your eyes and smirks back. "Be quiet or someone will hear us, and we'll have to stop. And if we have to stop before we get what we want," he murmurs into your jaw, "if you make me wait one more goddamn day to get inside you, you'll find out just how depraved I can be next time I get you alone. How's that sound?"

nsfw ⬇

His fingers press down harder into the crux of your thighs and you fight another open-mouthed groan.

"Always trying to lock horns with me," he breathes, pretending he doesn't love it. He works your panties to the side, and when he feels how hot and wet you are inside, he feels lightheaded. "Think you're enjoy acting like a challenge." He shifts his grip, pressing two fingers against your slit. "Think you're a little... a proper little... fuck..."

He pushes his fingers inside you, watching your mouth fall open around his thumb with a graphic moan. He slots his open mouth over yours and swallows it. He's half-convinced this is a dream when you keep moaning, high and urgent, into his mouth, desperately bumping your hips against his fingers.

He's real fucking close to losing the little bit of control he still has. Real fucking close to just ripping your shorts off you and taking you against the tile. He’s trying, but he doesn't know how much longer he can last when you’re riding his hand like that.

You bury your fingers in his hair, desperate to get closer to him. You're lost in what he's doing to you. You swear you're on the edge of whiting out when you hear another set of footsteps and--to your horror--the door unlatching and creaking open.

You gasp, dropping away from Gaz instantly. Trying to, at least, as he crowds you almost protectively against the shower wall. Luckily, there's another wall between you and the door. Unluckily, it's only about neck high for you, which means Gaz rises head and shoulders above it. You quickly push him down to his knees, eyes going to the door as a woman pokes her head through.

“Hello?”

Gaz catches his breath, his hands tense against the tile on either side of your legs. You try desperately not to dwell on how his warm breath fans over your stomach.

"Anyone in here?" says the woman. "Oh! Hi, sorry," she says, "have you seen a pink water bottle?"

She steps all the way inside. You tense. Gaz stays crouched behind the wall; if she keeps walking, she’ll see him.

"I, uh, no, I don't think so," you stutter out. She hardly seems to hear you, looking this way and that, ponytail bobbing behind her. Wow, she's cute. No, wait, you're panicked and horny and unable to focus on getting her out of here.

Her eye skims over a few other stalls and swings toward you. She takes two steps toward the back of the room--toward Gaz, crouching by your feet; Gaz, whose fingers are beginning to crawl up your legs--and if she takes one more step she's going to see oh God--

"Can you hand me that towel?" you blurt out, pointing to a used towel someone left in a heap on the other side of the room, behind her. Her head swivels back. "I could, uh, dry off and help you look," you add.

The woman reacts as if you’ve just given her an extremely normal request. She doubles back and grabs the towel. Then she makes a sound of surprise. "Oh, here it is." She picks up a pink bottle from the counter behind the towel. You hadn’t even seen it. "Thanks anyway."

"No problem," you say quickly. The rough, hot surface of Gaz's tongue runs against your waistline. You push his face away and feel him growl. His hands fist in the hem of your shorts.

You're beaming this woman psychic signals to get the fuck out of here before Gaz decides he doesn't care if he has an audience or not, but she doesn't pick up.

"Hey, don't I see you around some mornings? You and that guy?" she asks.

"Uh, yeah," you manage, just as Gaz yanks your shorts all the way down, thong and all, leaving you totally bare in one swift movement. "Y-Yeah. Kyle."

"Right, SAS guy. Are you and him, like, you know?"

You choke out half a laugh. "We're just friends."

If you weren't being driven half out of your fucking mind by Gaz's thumbs spreading your core open where you stand, this line of conversation would concern you.

He licks a long, greedy stripe up your core. You jerk and nearly stumble back, but he grabs your ass and pushes you harder into his face.

You swear you’re going to kill him slowly.

She doesn't notice--maybe it's the steam fogging up the room. You let out a shallow breath, relieved, until she doubles back and grabs the towel you'd haphazardly pointed at earlier. Oh, shit, she's bringing it to you. She's walking over.

You hope to God you look anything resembling normal when she walks right up to the neck-high tile wall separating you from her.

"Just wondering, you know?”

She takes the towel by one side and unfurls it. Then she pinches the corners together, casually and methodically refolding it in half once and then again as Gaz tongue-fucks you two feet below her line of sight.

“I mean, you're super pretty. I bet you have to fight these men off with a stick just to get an afternoon to yourself, right? But if you need a hand..."

She lays the neatly folded towel over the tile wall. You're forced to lean back just to allow her the space, and Gaz squeezes your ass even harder like he thinks you're trying to escape. He closes your clit lightly, warningly between his teeth, and you bite your bottom lip so hard you taste blood.

When you say nothing, she smiles—the kind of polite smile you give someone you don't know too well—and then turns and heads for the door. "Or, well, you know what I mean. Later."

The moment the door latches closed, Gaz shoves you against the wall of the stall, grabs your thigh, and lifts it over his shoulder. You gasp, grabbing hold of his shoulders and shying away from where his face is still so, so close to your core. He keeps his arm curled around your thigh, sandwiching it between his bicep and his ear.

"Are you fucking crazy?" you hiss.

“Helluva drug,” he mutters into your inner thigh. "Was that cute little blonde hitting on you?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Gaz."

"Mm. Liar." He nips your thigh hard enough to sting, then licks the spot to sooth it. "But you got that whole 'I-don't-mix-business-and-pleasure' thing, so what chance does she have?" He burrows his smirking mouth into the crease of your thigh and takes a slow teasing lick along your insides.

You cry out, leaning back against the wall and grinding your hips against his face.

He reaches his hand up under your thigh, grabbing your ass and pulling you more steeply against his mouth. Your legs splay out involuntarily against his hand and shoulder.

"Gaz-- fuck!" you curse, trying in vain to keep your voice down. "I'm gonna-- I have to--"

Gaz's arm tightens around your thigh. "You're gonna quiet down or I'll make you," he murmurs, eyes molten. He’s a hypocrite, telling you to keep it down while he slides his fingers back into you and pumps them in and out in earnest. He waits until you're writhing against the wall, half-pleas falling out of your mouth, to latch onto your clit again.

You come apart right there, grabbing at his shoulders until your nails score lines into his skin. Your body holds that delicious tension, oxytocin flooding your senses like steam, too far away to notice the way Gaz is growling softly into your core or the way he's fighting not to rut against the floor himself.

When you come back to your senses, Gaz settles back on his knees, looking up at you from between your legs with pupils blown wide.

"You sounded like you needed that," he says, his voice a little hoarse and his breathing uneven.

Still blinking stars out of your eyes, you stoop down to grab the gym shorts and thong pooling around your feet.

Gaz grabs your hand. "Leave them on the floor."

He pulls you down to your knees so you're straddling his lap. His hard length rubs against you through his shorts. He wraps one hand in your hair and the other around your hip, holding all your weight on him as he kisses you hungrily. You twist your hips skittishly, trying not to grind down on his lap as much as he's pulling you down into it. You shouldn't be doing this here. You were nearly caught already.

"Let's go to your room," you pant out of the corner of his mouth. "C'mon."

"I like it right here," Gaz purrs, his voice husky and low. He licks his lips, hovering just close enough that his tongue grazes your lips but his mouth doesn't meet yours. His hips keep moving, rubbing into you. "Right here."

You bite your torn lip, your mind sluggish with lust. "Mm... but..."

"You're not gonna make me wait," he growls, his hand in your hair tightening. "Not after all this time. Not after I took care of you. Not after you came on my face. Right?"

"But people--" You stutter out into a gasp as Gaz flips you over, his body curving around yours as your palms find the wet tile floor. "People will hear--"

"You want me to stop?"

You huff. "No."

He smirks. "You've never done something like this before, have you? Lucky me."

"You’re such a perv."

He runs his hands up your back and down your sides, taking in the feeling of your wet skin, your goosebumps, the flare of your hips as they press back against his. Goddamn, you're a sight. He's imagined this a dozen times, but having you in his hands... yeah, no, you'd never make it all the way back to his room if he were on your heels.

He bends down, his breathing ragged in your ear as he ruts up against you slowly, trying to pace himself. "And you're letting me do what I want to you right here on the bathroom floor, sweetheart. What does that say about you?"

You swallow, squeezing your thighs together.

He strips off his shorts and presses his bare cock up against you. Your breath hitches—you’re still so sensitive, and it's driving him mad. He's aching to feel you around him and see how expressive you really are.

"Nobody will hear us, yeah?" he murmurs. “And if they do, they’ll turn their heads and pretend they didn’t." He chuckles, heat bleeding into his deep voice as he presses the tip of his cock against your folds. "Unless you’re afraid someone will recognize your voice. Someone who might find out you're the little minx getting nailed in the showers.”

"Gaz, shut-- ah--" Your voice breaks as he ruts his hips forward just slightly, beginning to split you open.

"Better keep quiet," he murmurs, a wicked thrill running down his spine at the thought, “or they'll hear me making you mine.”

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / [part 4] / part 5

more Gaz / masterlist tag

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neoarchipelago · 9 months

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Just saw a TikTok where a kid send their favorite stuff animal to his dad who's deployed. Just imagine this happening with 141 🥺 (I'm actually sending this to my favorite writers hoping I can get a cute scenario 😅)

That sounds adorable... I melted at the thought. Sorry it got very angst with Ghost but I'm feral for this man and I'd give him babies any time he wants.

Warning: slight NSFW, f!reader, angst and comfort

Price:

Price would frown but have a little smirk, watching the recruit hand him a cardboard box. His smile spreads when he notices figures of who it is from.

He wouldn't mind opening it in front of the team. They'd be busy bickering anyway.

He swears his heart stops for a second and he sees the soft thing. He could recognize it in the middle of the battlefield, the awful thought putting a ping of anger in his heart.

He'd be silent for a moment, looking at the round pink thing, his mind instantly wandering home, to you and your daughter.

He took the tiny note, scribbled a bit. "Keep you company daddy. Love, mom and me"

He swears he could cry right now.

He keeps it in his barracks, hidden so well no one ever glanced at it until he left. He wouldn't dare taking it with him, not wanting to soil it with he horrors of the battlefield.

He hugs it at night, until the day he returns, his daughter running to him as he holds the stuffed animal who kept his sanity strong.

He makes sure to worship you that night, thanking you silently for making him the happiest man on earth. In the morning you're sore but oh so happy. He whispers sweet nothings as he helps prepare breakfast, thanking you for giving him a daughter and home to come to.

Soap:

Soap would be thrilled to see the box for him. He wouldn't even wait to open it, under the amused gazes of the team.

He'd smile brightly at the sight of the little shark, immediately taking the note to read it out loud "to help you fight daddy!"

He run around the room, holding it up in the air, voicing to his team how happy he was, how proud of his son and how he absolutely loved you for giving him such a gift .

He'd keep it at all times at base. The round thing on the table in front of him during meetings.

He calls it Sergeant Sharky, everyone starting referring it by the same name.

At night he hold it tight, it's more intimate. He can let himself feel the way he misses home, almost tearing up. He knows you're waiting for him at home, probably preparing for his arrival.

He swears he's the happiest man alive.

When he gets home he tells stories of Sergeant Sharky on the battlefield (never anything gory) his boy being in absolute amazement over how his favorite stuffed animal was a hero with his dad.

He absolutely ravages you that night, almost begging you for another kid, begging to make him a daddy again. He just praises you for being the best mama, the best wife. He has you limping by morning as he holds his son, running around with him as he winks at you, subtly hinting to his son to ask you for a sibling.

Gaz:

I feel like gaz would open it with the team too. Though he'd be much more hidden and private about it.

He immediately smiles when he sees the little white bear inside of the box. He can't help the sadness and yearning he feels almost immediately.

The images of you, laughing in the morning as his son jumps on the bed to wake him up makes his throat burn slightly.

He found the indulging gaze of Price who noticed the fluffy thing.

He'd read the note to himself, hiding it from anyone's gaze.

"to take care of you daddy" he has to blink away the blurriness.

He'd be more secret about it, but as soon as his in his tent the toy is with him at all times. He finds himself sometimes talking to it. "Yeah... I miss home too. We'll go back to them."

He finds himself with a new strength, the battle almost feeling less heavy on him. He's doing it for you. For his son. To try and make the world a better place.

He almost runs home from the airport, throwing the front door open, bags dropping to the floor as you see him. Your mouth opens slightly, shocked, but he sees the relief in your eyes. He kisses you deeply, the sound of tiny running footsteps from the hallway making his heart stammer in his chest.

He's home. That night he makes love to you, lovingly, sweetly and with such love that you find yourself crying and clinging to him. He finds himself absolutely loving the way your son runs into the room by morning, waking him up. He doesn't give a shit how tired he is.

Ghost:

Oh god... Here I go...

When he's handed the box, he frowns. He immediately retreats to his tent to open it. He freezes when he sees the white and brown bunny.

He's scared to touch it. His gloves feel disgusting and tainted with horrors. He rips them off his hands, putting the box down on his bed to rush to wash his hands. They're clean, albeit sweaty but he just can't seem to shake away the feeling of blood on them.

When he finally let's himself touch the soft thing he holds it like it's the most fragile thing he ever touched. It shouldn't be here. So close to him when he's a monster right now.

The note breaks him. "Come back to us" it's your writing, she's too small to write. But there's a tiny sun scribbled in pencil next to it.

He rips off his mask bringing the bunny to his forehead as his head bows down, closing his eyes. He's crying. He feels guilty from being away from you. From his daughter. From home. Home that you allowed him, after he had thought he'd never be worthy of it.

It stays in his things. Hidden. He very rarely takes it out. Tries to not look at it too much. He's almost protecting it from even witnessing the base. Keeping it away from Ghost. That he tried to keep at the front door every time he came home.

When he gets home he needs time. It's always the same. He calls you, announcing that he is back. He takes 24h to remain on base, letting himself split from the battlefield. He needs time. You know it. You understood it.

When he gets home you notice something else this time. His eyes look at you with such adoration that you catch yourself almost hyperventilating. He often looks at you with love and care. But right now he looks at you like you were his goddess, his air and life essence. The same look he gives your daughter, like she's the only thing that ever matters to him.

He sits on the couch later, handing the bunny to his daughter who beams at the sight of her bunny back. He softly thanked her for sending the bunny to him. Softly explains that she should keep it home, it'd get dirty with daddy. You noticed the subtle message underneath his words. You want to hug him. But of course she understands. Such a clever girl.

He fucks you passionately and hard. He marks you with hickeys and bites, he gets lost in you, lost in your scent, the soft sheets are freshly clean. Your moans anchor him to his new found paradise.

He's got a small need to breed you again. But he'd talk to you about it. Beg on his knees if necessary, hoping that you'd be merciful to grant him another miracle. (As if he needed to do anything else but simply ask. Like you weren't the one who'd kneel for him if he asked.)

If you were the one to start the conversation, about, perhaps, maybe, if there was a chance, at some point "just spill it out love" "I want a baby... Again"

Absolutely feral. Literally throws your pill to the trash. It's on.

Doesn't let go of his daughter for days. She's in heaven as daddy holds her whenever she wants, reads her stories and plays with her. He keeps bending you over the nearest surface if she's napping or playing at a family's house (extremely rare, he's a protective wolf over her)

Spoils her rotten, he feels so guilty for leaving for such long periods of time. Spoils you as well.

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leclsrc · 1 year

Text

wait and see ✴︎ cl16

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst barely, other drivers appear

word count: 2.5k

The grid recounts the evolution, nature, and many ups and downs of your and Charles' vague relationship.

auds here... req'd, this was p fun to write i hope u guys like it! :) short bec if it was any longer it wouldnt have been as nice to read i think? anyway... i love u guys. title from this.

Lando takes a seat. “Is this the thingy for…? Yeah? Okay. What am I supposed to do again?”

“Just describe the two of them.”

“Easy. She was always pissing him off.” He rubs his chin, lost in thought. “But… in a good way?”

—

“I told you a hundred times I didn’t want this to be the soundbite you published.” Charles chases after you, his footsteps quickening like a lost puppy as you wrestle your way into the media pen. “A hundred times, and you said okay, and you still published it. Che succede?”

You turn, crossing your arms over your torso. “Look. I said yes, but when I looked it over, nothing else you said was really worth it. It was all just repetitions of the same PR bullshit that makes you look good on camera.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling with frustration, watching his biting comment on Iñaki rack up hundreds of thousands of views. “This was not a good idea!” He repeats, the same sentiment he’s been telling you in the half-hour he’s known of this video’s publicity.

“But it happened.” You adjust your mic and gesture to Lando, who’s awkwardly waiting for the cameras to roll so you can start the post-FP2 interview and he can talk about his shit car. “I’m busy, so deal with it. Your fans will appreciate you not riding Ferrari’s dick all the time.”

Charles opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it, shoving his way back outside and into the motorhome so he can cooperate in damage control. He doesn’t admit it—to you, to Carlos, to anyone—but the PR that comes of it is more good than it is bad in the end. He doesn’t admit it because it means admitting you’re right, and God if that’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

—

“They were always butting heads,” George says, laughing as he soaks in the memories of it. “Always fighting over something. Anything. Whatever there was that could be disagreed on—they’d be disagreeing.”

—

It started harmlessly enough. Seb walked in with two swatches of color—a blue and a purple—and addressed the room with a light tone, asking what color would best suit the tablecloths at his wedding. And then, as it always did with you and Charles, chaos ensued.

“Blue suits green better.” You wave the blue in his face. “You’re busy thinking of red all the time so you don’t understand color theory.”

“It’s not about coordination! It’s about creating a highlight!” He gestures with his hands, aggressively gesticulating to try and get his point across. “Highlight!”

“Oh, bullshit! Blue!”

“Purple!”

“Are you crazy?!”

Across the room, Seb and George watch in mild horror at the two figures caught in a needlessly intense argument over colors at a wedding that isn’t even theirs.

An AlphaTauri engineer comes in to refill his coffee for the third time, finds the two of you still fighting and is genuinely stupefied. He turns to the two onlookers, asks, “Bridezilla, huh? Happened to me once, too. I swear the grooms always try to weasel their way in to seem more involved but their choices never make sense.”

“Oh, no. They, uh, they’re not together.” George clarifies quickly.

“They’re not?!” The engineer and Seb ask at the same time.

They all watch the argument, bemused, but secretly they all wonder just how correct George is.

—

“We have a saying in Spanish. Del amor al odio hay un paso. Neither of them will understand it—it’s in Spanish, obviously—but I think that applies to them. One minute you think they hate each other, and the next…” Carlos lets himself taper into silence, smiling softly.

—

Being around Charles feels like karmic retribution, a constant eternal push and pull. But it makes the both of you better, even if neither of you admit it in the end. You can’t really grasp why, or how it started—it might take ages if you do so much as try—but you’re content with letting things happen the way they do.

Or maybe you’re not. “You ruined my fucking broadcast, dickhead!”

You toss your earpiece at his chest, body welling up with annoyance. Your segment was being casted live until Charles insisted he take up your airtime to do whatever-the-fuck, you honestly don’t care. And yeah, sure, he’s way more relevant, but the less airtime you get, the less easily you get the exposure you need.

“It happened one time.” He sounds amused, and it patronizes you, sets you on fire. He clutches your earpiece to his chest and hands it back to you.

“Fuck you.” You tug it toward yourself, and suddenly you’re closer, noses almost touching. You step back, but it’s not enough. “You have no idea how much that mattered to me.”

His eyes flit toward your lips, your bodies melting together. “If it really did…” he says, inhaling, “you would’ve just ignored me.” And damn, he’s right.

Charles does not like you. He just knows you well. But then one might argue—isn’t that the same thing?

—

“They have trouble not calling the shots, is the thing,” Lewis offers. “So put them in a team, in a room together, and boom.”

—

“…We didn’t agree on this script.” You underline the problematic lines and toss it onto Charles’ lap from where you stand in front of the sofa. “You want your fans to hate you?”

“The questions were clumsy. I asked you to reword them, but you didn’t.”

“You didn’t ask, to be clear. You demanded.” You click your tongue.

Lewis is in the middle of posting on Roscoe’s Instagram account and manually making typos, but he looks up, interest piqued by the increasingly heated conversation.

“I asked,” Charles insists stubbornly. “Plus, this is a Ferrari segment. You get hired to write on Ferrari, you follow Ferrari.” He points to the yellow logo on his shirt. Ferrari, he mouths. Lewis stifles a chuckle at the sarcastic exchange.

“Jesus.” You reread the script. “Fine. I’ll reword this and this.”

“And that.” He points, tapping the paper.

“Only if you edit this and this. Oh, God, and this.”

“Fine. Wait, that?”

“Are you serious? It’s the corniest statement ever. Edit that or I edit nothing.”

“Okay, bossy.”

Lewis exits Instagram in favor of texting Seb to ask if you two are dating. The response he receives is equally unhelpful: Nobody knows mate.

—

“You know, for all the disagreeing they did, they actually agreed on so much of the same stuff. If they stopped fighting for two seconds they would agree on most things.” Alex muses. “But they never did, so. Or maybe a few times.”

—

Media is a tricky thing. It’s either on your side, or it isn’t.

And this weekend, Charles has drawn the short straw, subjected to bouts of backhanded journalists and tweets for his strategy during quali. You know this especially well—you’re media, for Christ’s sake—and you’ve seen your colleagues hound Charles for how he chose to tackle the session.

Alex is in the middle of a FaceTime call with Lily when he hears it. “Wait—I think they’re talking,” he says to his girlfriend when he hears you approach him, carefully maneuvering himself into optimal eavesdropping position.

“Is this the right thing to do?” Lily’s voice comes through like static.

“I know it’s wrong,” Alex confesses. “But—”

“No, I meant I can’t hear properly. Move the phone closer, you dick.”

So he does, and the two of them listen intently to your talk. You go first, a few shuffling footsteps and an adjustment of your media pass, then. “Will’s been all over you today.”

“Yeah,” comes Charles’ voice, tired if anything. “I, uh… I just hope I can understand where I went wrong and, uh. Well, uh.”

“No, I…” There’s heavy silence. “I think you did the right thing. You didn’t get pole, but it was a good strategy. Better than what was being proposed, anyway. I think that would’ve landed you at the back of the grid, to be honest.”

You both laugh. “Thanks,” he croaks.

“You did great. Don’t, um… don’t let them tell you otherwise. I’m proud of you.”

Alex never tells anybody what he heard. But it inspires many long-winded conversations with Lily about the nature of your relationship. Each time, though, they never arrive to a solid answer.

—

“Hey, listen. I always knew something was there with those two. They had the kind of dynamic you only find once in, like, a million instances.” Daniel says firmly. “But I also kept thinking… poor Charlotte.”

—

You’re half-sure Pierre was the one who bought you all shots. Or a quarter-sure. Okay, you’re not sure at all. Your mind’s cloudy, your inhibitions lowered, tongue loose and laugh contagious. Around the table everyone is laughing, some others have gotten up to dance, but you, Daniel, Lewis, and Charles are all conversing about work, albeit while drunk.

“Is… tequila… plant-based?” Lewis grimaces as he throws another shot back and you all laugh mindlessly.

“Danny,” you say, tapping his shoulder. “Any plans once you’re out of the paddock next season?”

“Ah,” he hums. “Self-discovery and a shit ton of shrooms.”

You all cheers to the epiphany, shots once again entering your system. “And a party again tomorrow!” Daniel adds half-jokingly, much to your delight. Charles, right beside you, throws an arm over your shoulder as he laughs. You’re unfazed.

Daniel’s gaze lingers on his arm a little too long, especially because your own hand reaches upward to wrap around his wrist, to make sure he doesn’t pull away. But you’re both drunk, he reasons. And plus, you can’t usually stand each other’s guts.

“I’ll pass, mate, if it happens,” Charles says, his tone clearly inebriated.

“You’re no fun,” you say lightly, laughing and turning to him. Your eyes are on the other’s, dark, lips almost touching as if you’ve forgotten Daniel and Lewis are even around (though the latter is as good as dead, honestly.)

“Invite Charlotte instead,” Daniel says with a smile, to try and test your reactions. “How long, now? Three months?”

You clear your throat, looking away with a faux smile.

“Oh. We’re not doing so well, to be honest.” Charles smiles, tight-lipped. He hopes Daniel doesn’t ask why. He can’t think of a lie quickly enough to cover how Charlotte told him I love you, Charles, but this is over. I hope you end up with her someday.

—

Seb takes some time to think about it. “Those two always fought. Everyone said that, didn’t they? All the time, disagreeing.” He hums. “I could tell very early, though, that they were also the only two who could truly understand the other. Figuratively, obviously—but as a result, also literally.”

“Elaborate?”

“When you understand someone that well, inside and out, you end up understanding everything they say.” Seb smiles. “That was them, I think.”

—

“It’s impossible to transcribe your interviews,” Will says to Charles. It’s that hour on the paddock where everyone’s waiting for the pre-race bustle to start, so small talk is what’s keeping them busy.

You’re reviewing a few clips from practice on your phone and Seb is chipping into the conversation, which has moved from Mick’s future to F1 into Sky Sports into this.

“What do you mean?” Charles asks.

“You’re always sliding in and out of your three languages!” The Englishman laughs. “I have to consult a native speaker of both Italian and French each time. And you’re always going I, I, I, or we, we, we… but hey, the fans dig it, innit?”

“I think I sound perfectly understandable.” Charles smiles. You’re still busy, unfocused on the conversation at present.

“Like, okay. Look at this.” Will retrieves his phone, opens his voice memos app, and plays one of the audio recordings there. It’s a scratchy one of Charles describing his quali session, and sure enough, even if he’s speaking straight English, the adrenaline and exhaustion have him sounding totally indecipherable.

We—we had gasjdhfhs and I, I, I… I think we need to rejshdhs and thijsjsh about the hsfhdh, yeah? And, and, uh, we ajhshajs. And

Will closes it. “Sebastian, can you tell me that said?”

He shrugs, amused. “Sorry, Charles. I genuinely can’t.”

“See?!” Will makes a voila motion. “Nobody understands this.”

“He said we had good traction and I think we need to recalibrate and think about the boxing strategy, yeah? And we need that mindset.” You’re still going over your phone, busy and not 100% invested. “You two just aren’t listening.”

Charles doesn’t take his eyes off you, or the smile off his face, the whole hour.

—

Pierre comes last, clearing his throat. He’s ready. He knows exactly what to say, so he says it. “Those two are fucking soulmates.”

—

It’s three-thirty when somebody knocks on your hotel room.

But your body still feels like it’s five in the evening, your brain’s stuck at two in the afternoon, and your sleep schedule thinks it’s nine in the morning, so you’re not asleep but instead rewriting notes from the weekend prior.

You’re horribly disoriented when you grab your pepper spray and unlatch the door, and even more disoriented when you see Charles on the other side of it.

“Am I crazy?” He asks, breathless, like he’s been waiting for you all his life. Maybe he has.

“You’re at my hotel room at three a.m., so… a bit.” You rub sleepiness and jetlag out of your eyes. “Charles, what’s going on?”

“I love you.” There it is. “It sounds so stupid. But I love you. And it’s almost—I can’t bear it. I woke up this morning? You, on my mind. Lights go off after a race? You. I go to sleep? You. It’s always you. And I know, I know it’s—I know, with Charlotte, and—but it’s true. I, I, I—I think about you every minute. And usually this happens accidentally. Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s’agit d’amour... moi y compris.

“But this was… I knew I was falling in love and I let it happen. And so I thought, why keep waiting? Why let it drag on and on and fight over and over when I can just come and tell you how much I—and maybe, hopefully, see if you feel the same?”

He pants, tired from his clearly rambled and unplanned confession.

“I love you, too,” you say, struck. Oh God.

“Can I kiss you, then?”

“It’s may,” you breathe. “May I kiss you.”

“You may,” he whispers.

“Right now?”

“Anytime.”

“So now.”

“It’s now or next Tuesday,” he jokes.

“Now is… the best. Now would do.”

“Now would do.” So you cross the threshold and let him scoop you into his arms so he can well and truly kiss you.

—

“Is that all?” The interviewer asks Pierre. “Just… those words? We need a bit more for the article on this event.”

“Oh, yeah.” He gets up, straightens his tie. “Don’t worry. You’ll hear the rest during my best man speech.”

Del amor al odio hay un paso – From love to hate, there is one step.

Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s'agit d'amour... moi y compris – We are all fools in love... me included.

#f1 #leclsrc2000 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader

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fryingpan1234567 · 11 months

Text

some CHB headcanons

every cabin has LEDs around the inside, but there’s a constant battle over what color they are

Percy has his rippling back and forth from teal to blue and it looks like light dancing through water all over his walls and floor

the Apollo cabin can usually settle for orange and yellow as a common ground

the Aphrodite kids have a different color for each time of day and sleep with pink on the lowest brightness setting

the Hermes cabin has like ten different strips and they’re all constantly shifting

Demeter cabin’s shifts with the seasons

ANYWAYS MOVING AWAY FROM THE LEDS

they have movie nights, which I will talk about in a different post

before everybody goes back to school, the Aphrodite and Hecate cabins have a massive salon at the end of the summer with new haircuts and magic hair dye and outfit recommendations and fake but enchanted sturdy nails and a whole bunch of other stuff and basically it’s a week straight of spilling hot tea between everyone in camp

if someone asks where a camper got their hair done when they get back to school they just go “oh, um… summer camp.” and their friends will snort and be like bro isn’t summer camp the opposite of a makeover?? but they get no argument, just a shrug and a half smile

when I tell you pride month over there is a fucking riot

because Mr. D is in on it, right?? because he’s the god of gender?? and Chiron is aroace and has been raising dumbass gay heroes for literal centuries?? PLUS the sheer fucking amount of queer peeps up in there?? dude yeah

cabins competing for who shows the most pride

Demeter’s roof is covered in rainbow flowers

Hecate’s is enchanted to emit actual light in whatever flag colors of whoever uses the front door, even when they’re straight (it’s just a rainbow)

Percy collects a bunch of shed scales from the hippocampi at the bottom of the lake and then puts them all over his cabin

I could make a whole post about CHB pride but

every single Apollo kid is also a theater kid fight me

Rachel Elizabeth Dare painted a skateboard for Percy’s birthday and he brings it everywhere now, it even sits in his backpack at school

Leo, Annabeth, Percy, and Piper fucking love horror movies. Frank, Hazel, and Jason fucking hate them. They watch through their fingers, if at all

Piper loves the band Surfaces with all her heart, but she also is a die hard Green Day and P!ATD fan

Jake Mason is covered in burn scars up to his neck, just like Deadpool, just not bald lol

Hephaestus and Apollo kids faintly radiate warmth (like more so than a normal person)

the Stolls sometimes stay at camp year-round because their mom is off on international missions that are too high-risk for them to help with

the seven are AVID Smash Bros players

really everyone but

not as many people go to the Athena campers for help with homework as you might think, but whenever anyone does, they’re happy to help

the sun chariot blasts music at a frequency only the Apollo kids can hear, so their life kind of has a shitty soundtrack that consists of a mix of Broadway, Queen, modern stuff, and random bits of Beethoven every now and then

the Romans swear on few occasions

the Greeks know when to swear and when to be polite

the Valhalla peeps swear unbridled and all the time

the Egyptians never swear (in English)

for the longest time, Will Solace thinks the only gift from his dad is his healing prowess— which is obviously great, but he expresses being upset over the fact that he’s not very good at archery

well, considering this is the dumbass who didn’t bring a weapon to actual fucking Tartarus, Nico drags him to the weapon shack thing immediately afterwards and made him pick something out

he's immediately drawn to the Celestial Bronze shotgun.

Nico’s just like “what in the redneck shit did you just pick up” and Will jokingly aims it at his chest and grins and says “you know I’m from Texas, right?”

that’s how they find out Will is one of the damn best marksmen in Greek demigod history

some of the Disney nerds in the Apollo cabin sing What Once Was Mine to the little ones who need bandaids for knee scrapes and give them lollipops afterwards

Percy Jackson absolutely used to make poverty and struggle meal jokes all the time, but he got weird and concerned looks for it at CHB, so he kind of just stopped. But one day, aboard the Argo II, the PERFECT opportunity came up and he just HAD TO and as per usual— everyone else looked at him like he’s crazy— but Leo laughed so hard chocolate milk came out of his nose and that’s the story of how the two of them became Best Friends

#anyways idk what came over me #riordanverse #percy jackson #leo valdez #jason grace #Annabeth Chase #hazel levesque #frank zhang #piper mclean #Will Solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #valgrace #Jake Mason #connor stoll

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yanderambling · 1 year

Text

thank you both so much!! i decided to mix these up a bit so have Adrian being jealous over reader bullying someone else (and then doing something about it...)! i hope you like~ also: i changed the gif for... reasons, sorry lol i swear this won't be a thing okay bye enjoy <3

pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~ 2.2k

you can read the original post here!

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, breaking/entering, violence, mild gore, suggestive shit too ygi

Adrian watches in stunned horror as you crowd another student against the wall of the school hallway.

You lean your face close to theirs, some sweet poison dripping from your tongue, and they laugh nervously. They keep pressing back against the wall, as if they want to get away from you.

What an idiot. Doesn’t this moron see that they're being blessed in this moment? Don't they know that others would kill to be in their position?

Adrian feels the wooden bento box lid crack under his fingers.

He'd struggled not to assume the worst when you hadn't been at your spot to pick it up today, but now he just feels like a fool for harboring hope.

How could this happen? How could you do this to him? How could this person be more important than his homemade lunch? Than him? Have you gotten bored of him already? What does this dimwit have to offer you that he doesn't?

He's standing in front of you before he realizes he'd moved.

It's even harder to watch up close- your sparkling, predatory eyes tracking every uncomfortable shift of your victim, your body closing them in, making them feel trapped.

Oh, how Adrian aches to be your prey again.

Luckily, it only takes few seconds of awkward hovering before you register his presence.

"Oh- ha, shit. Hey," You tap the other student's shoulder, despite their full attention already being on you, "you've met my mutt, right? Just a sec."

You turn to face him, one hand still on the wall just above the other student's shoulder. Adrian blessedly can't focus on it over the euphoric mantra of my mutt my mutt my mutt echoing in his head.

Your fingers brushing over his as you snatch the lunch away is just enough to break him out of it.

"Great, fuck off now." You turn back to the other student as you jam the box into your bag.

No.

No no no no no.

That can't be it. He can't just leave you here to be swept away by some bland bambi wannabe, resigning him to forever trailing behind, vying for the scraps of your cruelty. No, he can't have that. He can't live off of that.

Stricken by a new sense of panic, Adrian can do little more than remain uncertainly by your side, leveling an unnerving glare at the other student as he imagines every single way he'd like to take them out of the equation.

"I like this jacket." You remark with an infuriatingly flirtatious edge.

"Th-thanks." The student stutters, flinching when you pick an imaginary piece of lint off their arm. Adrian clenches his hands into fists. "Uh, it was a birthday gift, from- from my parents."

A knowing smirk curls your lips as you nod in faux interest (Adrian can tell). "Yeah? Looks expensive. I wonder what else your folks got you?"

The other student starts to look even more uncomfortable, shifting on their feet as their eyes dart around in search of an escape route.

Oh. So that's your plan, skim off their birthday haul? Of course.

Now that he thinks about it, Adrian recalls that this student is somewhat notorious for having wealthy parents- but, hell, Adrian's parents are definitely richer than theirs! Why didn't you just come to him? (Because you have no idea; he certainly doesn't dress like it, he walks to school, and it's not like you pay him too much mind outside of the lunches and entertainment he provides anyway.)

"I can give you money."

You slowly turn your head to face him, a dangerous edge to the movement that sends a thrill down Adrian's spine.

"Did you not hear me before? I said fuck off."

Adrian's gut clenches unpleasantly, torn between his instinct to obey you and his desire to stay the object of your attention.

The latter wins out pretty quickly.

"...no."

Your entire demeanor shifts.

A manic, incredulous sort of smile spreads across your face as the challenge fully registers. Adrian notices your unoccupied hand flexing beside you as you turn to face him fully. He doesn't think he's ever seen you look so wild, so feral. The force of your stare is enough to have him cowering, ears flattening as his tail tucks firmly between his legs (more to hide his tenting crotch than out of fear).

Your voice is menacingly level as you say,

"The fuck did I just hear?"

Adrian is pretty sure his heart has stopped beating.

He's completely frozen, his throat clicking as he struggles for something, anything to say, to get that intense glare off him but also please dear god don't look away-

"Uh- I, ah- I- I didn't- um-"

Brrrriinngg!

Adrian flinches as the bell rings, and he just barely sees the other student ducking under your arm and scurrying off to class.

"Fuck!"

You slam your fist into the concrete wall, causing Adrian to flinch again, though he stays rooted to his spot in front of you.

"See what you did? Stupid fucking mutt..."

You shove past him roughly, and the pain of his shoulder colliding with the wall is beautifully complemented by the residual warmth of your body against his.

He watches in shock as you stalk down the hall and disappear from sight.

He can't believe he did that. He can't believe he's still standing. He wonders what would've happened if the bell hadn't rung, if you two hadn't been on school grounds...

A shiver surges through his body at the thought, and he has to physically shake himself to return his mind to the issue at hand.

Crisis averted.

For now.

Throughout the day, you corner that student exactly five more times. Adrian manages to interfere with every single one.

It's at the end of the school day, after you've told him off rather disappointingly for getting involved again (and you don't even give him a good punch for his trouble), that Adrian decides he needs a more permanent solution.

It isn't hard to follow your new target home, god knows he's had plenty of practice, and their security's not much trouble either. It's remarkably robust for a home system, but Adrian is a lonely nerd with too much time on his hands and practical experience. Dismantling it takes less than an hour.

Once he's inside, it's just a matter of scribbling a threatening note in unidentifiable handwriting (stating, in no uncertain terms, that they shouldn't even think of going near you again if they know what's good for them), hiding in their closet to take polaroids of them asleep, removing a lock of their hair to attach to the note alongside the polaroids, and leaving it all on their desk for them to find in the morning.

He's got it down to a science at this point.

The rest of his night is spent outside your window, watching you sleep and wishing things would go back to normal.

When it's still only your friends at your usual spot the next morning, Adrian feels disappointment weigh him down for the rest of his walk.

But, when he gets to school, he sees you openly scanning the hallways. Alone, no new victim in sight.

It seems they're trying to listen, at least. Emboldened by the lack of competition, Adrian hurriedly brings you your lunch.

You still dismiss him almost immediately.

He's tempted to defy you again, if only for you to give him a second glance, but he really doesn't think he could handle the rush again this soon.

Instead, he watches from a distance as you continuously try to track your new target down, and they consistently evade you.

He has to commend their effort- going to classes without textbooks, hiding in every nook and cranny when you passed, they even ate their lunch in the bathroom- it's looking like they might just be able to comply.

Until school lets out, and you catch them sneaking around the back.

"Hey! You have not been easy to find. If I didn't know better, I'd say you're avoiding me."

Adrian stays hunkered in the shadows as the other student stiffens and slowly turns to face you.

"Leave me alone."

The demand is so quiet, it's mostly lost to the ambient hum of the town around you.

You pull a familiar smirk and sidle closer to them, confidence emanating from your every movement. "What was that?"

They suddenly stumble backwards, just barely saving themself from overbalancing as they shout,

"Leave me alone!"

Your eyes widen at the outburst, and Adrian notices you checking for new witnesses as you raise your hands defensively.

"Woah, woah, what's the-"

"Just- just leave me alone! I know who you are, okay? I-I know what kind of person you are, the- the things you do, and I don't- I don't want anything to do with you! Okay? Or- or your creepy fucking friend, either!"

"My wha-?"

"I don't- None of it! Listen- my-my mom's a lawyer, you know? She could have you arrested for-for harassment, or worse! So just- just leave me alone!"

They turn and flee before you can get another word out.

You're left standing stunned, your hands clenching into fists as you fully process this rejection, this humiliation, this complete and utter undermining of your power.

You can't just go after them, you're not willing to test that whole "lawyer mom" claim, but every second you spend idle stokes the fury smoldering within you.

You need to purge it. You need to take it out on something.

Adrian steps around the corner.

"You."

That one word is enough to make him melt into a puddle.

He's helpless to do anything but stare wide-eyed as you storm over to him. He doesn't even brace himself for the punch, falling to the ground with a sharp groan.

"What the fuck did you do? Huh? What'd you do you little fucking creep?"

You punctuate each question with a kick to his prone form, forcing him to release a litany of moans containing equal parts pain and ecstasy.

This, this is how it's supposed to be; your undivided attention on him, your complete focus on touching him, on making him feel. He's the only one you should want to treat like this, to devote your time, your energy, your passion to.

"Can't keep your fucking nose out of my business, can you?" Another kick. Adrian keens. "Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now, you stupid mutt?"

Yes yes yes.

Another kick, this one landing somewhere on his head. As he feels blood trickle into his eye, Adrian briefly wonders if he's died and gone to heaven.

A solid foot to his stomach tells him he's very much still alive, but with it comes a heady lightness spreading throughout his whole body. Another and he feels like he's floating on the high of your touch, your anger, like he could sink into it and be wrapped up in the warmth of your rage. Another and his vision starts to white out. He's known no greater pleasure in life than surrendering to your furious whims, nothing else has ever felt so right. He wants nothing more than to stay like this forever.

Then the kicking stops.

Adrian instinctively whines at the loss, a high whimper lingering in the back of his throat as his head shoots up to search for you.

You're already stomping away, still muttering quiet curses (though Adrian can't hear them over the blood rushing in his ears) and too far off to catch his pitiful mewling. He doesn't take his eyes off you until you round a corner, and even then his gaze helplessly lingers on the space you had occupied.

He stays laying there long after you leave, blissfully basking in the afterglow of your abuse (he doesn't think his shaking legs would support him for awhile anyway). It isn't until he hears a car start nearby that he forces himself, ever so slowly, to make his way home.

He sneaks in with little trouble, rushing to the bathroom to hide away and admire your handiwork.

Deep, angry bruises are already forming all over his skin, some home to lightly bleeding cuts. Adrian presses on each one as he finds them, committing them to memory as he bites his cheek to keep quiet (it's a losing battle).

Loathe as he is to disfigure your art, he knows you won't have the chance to create more if someone finds out (nobody else could possibly understand the bond you share, so intimate and complex as it is), so he begrudgingly cleans the wounds and patches himself up.

It's a familiar process, almost habit by now, and after the bandages and makeup and careful positioning of clothing, nobody would suspect he'd so much as tripped.

But he knows.

He reminds himself every other second while he's camped outside your house that night, methodically fidgeting with every injury as he works his way across his body. He unconsciously applies extra force against the bruises littering his thighs, unable to tear his gaze from your sleeping face.

He wants to do more (god does he want to), but he can't. He could never.

Not without you.

He'll simply have to settle for torturing himself in the meantime, refreshing your marks so they stay effective, just until you get another chance to do it yourself.

When he sees you at your spot the next day (now carrying a lot of extra cash on the off-chance you decide to empty his pockets), he doesn't even try to stop his tail from wagging.

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chvoswxtch · 7 months

Text

desire

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: now that the defenders of freedom had been caught, what's next for you and frank?

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol & grief, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 8.1k

a/n: the one you've all been waiting for. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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Considering the fact that your place was still an active crime scene and Homeland still needed to track down the rest of Steven’s dipshit goons to ensure there would be no more threats or attacks, Dinah wanted to take you to a safe house until the investigation was finished.

Frank, however, was not having any of that shit.

It was admittedly an ego boost watching Dinah and Frank lock into a heated staring contest while arguing about who got protective custody of you, and definitely amusing. But eventually, she gave into the stubborn brick wall that was Frank Castle, threw her hands up in total exasperation that was followed by a colorful string of adjectives thrown his way, and that was how you found yourself once again on the road with Frank.

Initially when you noticed that Frank was driving in the direction outside of the city, perplexment weaved between your brows, but he quickly set your curiosity straight as soon as he noticed it blanketing your features. He didn’t even give you a chance to voice your inquisitions before explaining that he was taking you somewhere safe that no one else knew about.

That knowledge filled you with a bubbling sense of giddiness because getting to stay with Frank at his apartment was one thing, but getting to stay with him in a place that sounded private and secluded? Yeah, that was more than okay with you.

The longer Frank drove, the more drastic the scenery changed, passing by in a blurry film reel on the other side of the passenger window. The clamorous and bustling streets of the concrete city faded away slowly and soon settled into quiet black asphalt that shrank to one lane on either side of the road. The millions of inhabitants of New York City seemed to melt away into the horizon in the rear view mirror of Frank’s truck, leaving the two of you the only souls for miles. The trees became more and more dense, creating opaque patches of foliage in golden ochre, rusty ginger, and spiced cranberry. In that moment, sitting in the passenger seat was the most at peace you had felt in almost seven months since the whole had nightmare began, and a lot of that peace had everything to do with the man in the driver’s seat absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the Bruce Springsteen CD currently playing.

After about two hours of driving and light conversation, Frank turned off the asphalt road onto an unmarked dirt path, and you turned your head to stare over at him in half-hearted suspicion while lifting a brow in silent questioning.

“You know, if you kept me alive this long just to murder me in the middle of the woods, that’s some serious dedication.”

Without missing a beat, Frank let out a dry chuckle.

“If I was gonna kill ya, I woulda started switchin’ your coffee out with decaf a long time ago.”

It was always a struggle not to laugh at Frank’s dry sense of humor. You tried not to give him the satisfaction of your amusement, but you found yourself giving in more and more lately. Letting out an overly dramatic sharp gasp while staring at him in exaggerated faux horror, you reached over and lightly smacked your palm against his firm bicep.

“That is the most evil form of torture I have ever heard.”

Frank snickered deviantly, clearly pleased with himself, and the relaxed grin on his soft lips was stretched so wide that his lifted cheeks caused his eyes to crinkle in delight. For a moment, your breath caught in your throat at the sight. It never failed to render you speechless just how much lighter Frank looked when he smiled. Happiness looked so achingly beautiful on him. Every time you silently observed him, you always learned something new about Frank. He had deep set creases softly feathering around the edges of his eye sockets, proof that Frank had once been a man that smiled and laughed as easily as he breathed. You sincerely hoped that version of him that he seemed to keep buried so deeply was steadily rising back to the surface, and that these ephemeral glimpses you got would soon become permanent.

The gilded stream of midday light cast a velvet glow on Frank’s softened features, leaving you so completely entranced that you hadn’t even noticed the lack of motion when he parked his truck.

“We’re here.”

The gruff alert of Frank’s voice induced you out of your bewitchment, and it was then that you suddenly noticed the quaint one story cabin nestled a few feet away in front of you.

It was composed of wood in a rich shade of burnt umber, and topped with a forest green downward v-shaped roof. There were a few worn steps leading up to an enclosed porch that appeared to snugly wrap around the cabin entirely, and two large square glass windows on either side of the front door that was painted the same shade of green as the roof. The curtains were drawn so you couldn’t see inside, but from the outside it looked incredibly cozy.

When you got out of the car, you noticed there wasn’t anything around at all but thick woods, and you silently wondered just how far back they went. There didn’t appear to be anyone or anything around for miles, and the only sounds you could hear were birds chirping and the worn wooden steps creaking under the weight of Frank’s heavy black boots.

“Wow. Billy offers one hell of a retirement plan.”

Following up the steps behind Frank’s large frame, a glimpse of black flashed in your peripheral vision, and you noticed there were security cameras installed on the left and right corners of the roof, along with what looked to be several motion detector lights along the top perimeter. Knowing Frank, there were probably far more around the entire cabin, and probably even hidden in the trees as well.

Frank paused for a moment at your comment, his dark brown eyes glossing over your presence at his right before taking in the sight of his own cabin like it was the first time he had ever seen it.

“Nah, s’just somethin’ I never got ‘round to finishin’ ‘til a few months ago. Almost forgot ‘bout it. It was s’posed to be a surprise project for my-”

The second Frank cut himself off, his body language changed entirely. His relaxed posture instantly stiffened, causing him to stand rigidly at his full height while his shoulders squared to their broadened width. The former calm expression he wore turned to stone right before your very eyes and he clenched his jaw in such a harsh line you could hear his teeth grind. Frank was intensely staring directly through the small six panel window that was in the top middle of the front door, like there was something on the other side that only he could see.

Before you could react, he abruptly unlocked the front door and pushed it open with his left hand, clearing his throat and vaguely gesturing with his index finger before turning away to descend the stairs without giving you so much as a second glance.

“I’ll uh get the bags. Room at the end of the hall on the right is yours.”

The haunted look in Frank’s eyes reminded you of the night of the gala when he had told you that he had lost his wife. It was almost the exact same one. The thought briefly crossed your mind that he meant to say it had been a surprise project for her, but you quickly put it to rest. Frank clearly didn’t want to elaborate on the subject, and you knew better than to push. The best thing to do was give him his space and let him come to you if he wanted to. Still, it didn’t stop the journalist in you from running wild with questions, and also filling you with a slight sense of guilt that you were about to share a space with Frank that was meant to be something sacred and special between him and his wife.

»»———　　———««

The room at the end of the hall ended up being the master bedroom, to which you protested heavily against taking, but ultimately ended up being an argument you lost because Frank played dirty and distracted you with the delectable scent of homemade pasta sauce and a wine glass that was filled to the brim with bubbly pink.

While you sat at the kitchen island and sipped at your now half empty glass, you studied Frank with a narrowed gaze. A part of you was annoyed with him and yourself at how easily you fell into the trap he set. He knew you well enough to know Italian food was your weakness and that you were more compliant after being fed. But a bigger part of you was completely mesmerized by the way he gracefully navigated the open kitchen.

There was a furrow of concentration nestled between his thick brows while he precisely measured specific spices to add to the saucepan that was layered with ruby sauce that he had garnished with freshly cut oregano and parsley. On the far back left burner was a boiling pot of penne pasta, and in front of that was a skillet of ground meat Frank had added diced onion and garlic to along with several other seasonings. He shifted between each pan with a quiet elegance that captivated you, and simultaneously irritated you, because there didn’t seem to be a damn thing the man couldn’t do.

“So you’ve been a secret chef this entire time and didn’t tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.”

Rolling your eyes at his quick retort, you cocked your head to the side slightly and focused on the way his back muscles strained against the fabric of the black henley he wore.

“I’m pretty sure I would’ve had an easier time getting nuclear launch codes from the Russian government than ever getting a straight answer out of you.”

Frank snorted at that, throwing you a quick humored glance over his broad shoulder.

“Hey, I give you answers.”

“Oh yeah, after nearly five months of stonewalling me. I didn’t even know what you did before becoming a bodyguard until you told me, what, a week and a half ago?”

Frank lifted one of his thick brows while turning his body slightly towards you.

“You never read my personnel file?”

Glancing down at your wine glass, you clicked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and gave a subtle shake of your head.

“Homeland wouldn’t let me have it.”

“And you let that stop you?”

There was a hint of tease in Frank’s deep voice, and you lifted your gaze to squint at him in annoyance noticing the cheeky smirk curling at the edge of his mouth.

“I’m a journalist, Frank. Not a hacker.”

“Ah, don’t give me that shit. That may be your job but it ain’t all you are. Besides, you’re a goddamn force to be reckoned with and a pain in the ass when you don’t get your way.”

A mischievous smirk slipped across your lips while you brought your glass up to your mouth, looking at Frank innocently over the rim.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Frank’s eyes seemed to wander over your face, stopping at the way the rim of the glass settled against your bottom lip, and when he met your eyes again, they were subtly darkened with that look that sent a tingle down your spine.

He silently stared at you for only a second longer before giving a slight nod, and you caught the wry smile slipping over his lips as he turned back to face the stove.

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart.”

You weren’t exactly sure what the source was of the heat you currently felt blooming in your cheeks: the wine you had consumed, the aroma of the fresh chili pepper Frank had just added to the sauce, or the way he had just looked at you.

Attempting to redirect your impure thoughts before the liquid courage could make you bold enough to voice them, you looked for something to distract yourself with. With your chin in your palm, you glanced down at the rouge tinted liquid and lazily swished it around in your wine glass. A thought quickly popped into your head that caused you to let out a soft snort.

“I didn’t take you as a rosé guy.”

Frank adjusted the heat on the sauce to a low simmer before turning to face you fully, wiping his large hands off on a sage green rag before tossing it over his right shoulder. He took a step over towards the island you were sitting at and wrapped his long fingers around his own wine glass, which looked ludicrously tiny in his hand, and took a long purposeful swig before licking his lips and arching one of his dark brows.

“What? This is good shit.”

Reaching for the half empty bottle sitting on the island, you let out a soft laugh and went in for a refill. The relaxing effects of the wine had clearly already reached your brain, and before it could catch up with your mouth, you blurted out your next question like it couldn’t possibly ruin the mood.

“Was this your wife’s favorite?”

Frank didn’t clam up like you had expected given his behavior earlier. Instead, he glanced down at the glass in his hand for a moment before shaking his head with a tiny smile gracing the curve of his lips.

“Nah, friend of mine’s wife got me into this stuff.”

Frank took a moment to stare down into the glass, as if there was a fond memory appearing in the bubbles. Clearing his throat, he took another large swig of the wine and set the nearly empty glass down on the island.

“She uh…she liked white wine.”

For some reason, Frank’s casual admission sent a flush of velour warmth through you. Whatever barrier that had prevented Frank from speaking freely earlier seemed to be somewhat dismantled, and this was the first time he had ever spoken voluntarily about his wife that hadn’t left a heavy fog of grief lingering over either of you. A tender smile stretched across your lips as you lifted your glass up in a silent toast.

“My kinda woman. What was her favorite?”

Frank leaned over the island on his elbows, holding the delicate glass in both of his strong hands. The amber lighting in the kitchen made his eyes look like swirls of melted chocolate, and you resisted the urge to lean in closer when he finally looked at you with a faint smile tugging at the left edge of his mouth.

“Pinot Grigio.”

A huge grin stretched across your lips at his answer, and you shook your head faintly as you light heartedly pointed your right index finger towards Frank and lifted your glass to your lips.

“Oh I bet I could’ve easily converted her to a sauvignon blanc girl. There’s this brand from Chile that makes the best blanc, and she would’ve loved it.”

For a moment Frank simply observed you in silent fondness. When you set your glass down, his eyes flickered to his own, and he made a quiet noise of recognition in his throat before speaking quietly.

“She woulda liked you.”

That single sentiment held more weight and significant meaning to you than anything anyone else had ever said to you. A tight lump formed in your throat as those words echoed in your head, and you felt the overwhelming urge to make this intimate moment just as special for Frank, but with the alcohol in your system you couldn’t convey your feelings as eloquently.

“My mom would’ve annoyed you.”

Frank immediately started howling with laughter, turning his head to look at you with squinted eyes in incredulous amusement.

“What?”

“I mean she would have loved you, no doubt about that, but she probably would’ve annoyed you. And definitely hit on you. She was like me, only she had way less of a filter and absolutely zero shame. I think my being nosey and stubborn was genetic, but she took it to a whole other level. Did you know I used to be really quiet?”

Frank’s thick brows lifted in surprise, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. The rosé was acting as a truth serum, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rambling.

“I was. I was very quiet, and extremely cautious, compliments of my careless mother. She wasn’t really careless, I mean she loved me, she was just a bit reckless, but not in a bad way. Like not a I-need-therapy-for-the-rest-of-my-life way but more of a she-had-me-at-sixteen-and-we-grew-up-together way. You know that I was such a bookworm that she practically begged me to be rebellious and hang out with someone other than her or the local librarian? And she’s the whole reason I wanted to go to Columbia, because she wanted to go to Columbia, but you can’t go to Columbia with a baby and no high school degree, and I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, and I probably should have shut up ten minutes ago, but anyway my mom would’ve liked you but definitely annoyed you more than me.”

Those newfound beloved crinkles were once again decorating Frank’s eyes as he chuckled heartily at your rambling. He downed the rest of his own wine before setting the empty glass down, flashing you a crooked grin as he loosely gestured in your direction with his chin.

“I’m sure I woulda liked Lorelai just as much as I do you.”

There was a skip in your heart’s rhythm, partly because he finally admitted that he liked you as a person, but more so when you realized that Frank remembered your mother’s name. It tugged at your heartstrings, because it was such a simple gesture, but also because it reminded you just how much you missed your mother.

“I forget sometimes.”

Frank tilted his head to the side slightly when your soft voice settled in the space between the two of you, and his playful grin slowly vanished as he watched while you stared blankly down into your glass, clearly lost in your own thoughts.

“Forget what?”

“That she’s gone.”

There was a slight tremble to your voice as you looked up at Frank with a miniscule sad smile. The empathy in his eyes was almost too much to bear, and you had to look away to keep your composure from crumbling. Turning your head to the left, you took a moment to observe the layout and minimalist decor in the kitchen while letting out a shaky exhale.

“Sometimes I go to call her…just…on my way home from work, you know? Just to talk to her, hear the latest small town gossip, tell her about the latest coffee shop I’ve found that she absolutely has to try when she comes to visit next. There’s even been times I’ve left her voicemails. I’ll be so wrapped up in something and wanna vent to her, and then I’ll start to wonder why she hasn’t called back yet, and then it’ll just…hit me.”

Frank stayed quiet while he listened sympathetically, and the entire cabin was silent apart from the quiet sizzling coming from the stovetop until you gently spoke up again.

“Do you forget too?”

Finally looking over at Frank again, you watched as he lighty dragged his palm down the lower half of his face. While he glanced down at the smooth mahogany countertop, he clasped his large hands together while still resting on his elbows.

“I don’t forget she’s gone, but I uh…I’ve started forgettin’ things. I can’t remember what her perfume smelled like…or what her favorite song was. I can hear it sometimes, ya’know? Every now and then I get these…bits and pieces. Sometimes I can hear her hummin’ it in the kitchen, but it ain’t long enough to remember what song it was, ya’know? Everythin’ started gettin’ fuzzy…and I remember more things I wanna forget than things I actually wanna remember.”

There was a stretch of silence where neither of you spoke. Eventually, Frank straightened up and turned his back to you to walk back over towards the stove. Even though you knew it might not be the right time to ask, there was a question that had been burning in the back of your mind since the night of the gala.

“Frank?”

He hummed quietly in response, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder as he gave you his full attention.

“What was her name?”

The softness of your question clearly caught him off guard, and you could see the hesitation lingering in Frank’s eyes. Worried that you had crossed the line and completely ruined the moment, you were about to hastily backtrack and tell him that he didn’t have to answer when Frank let out a deep exhale through his large nose, touching his index and middle finger over his chest most likely where his wedding band sat beneath his shirt.

“Maria.”

A minuscule smile covered the edge of your mouth as you tilted your head slightly to the side and tried out her name on your tongue.

“Maria. Is this her recipe?”

Frank's eyes flickered over towards the pans and the pot of boiling pasta that were still on the stove. After a moment, he nodded his head and turned his attention back to you with a tender look in his eyes.

“Penne all'Arrabbiata con Manzo. Her grandmother was Sicilian, just like my parents were. She made this every time I came home from a tour.”

The significance and sentiment behind the recipe Frank was cooking made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your ribcage. Quickly topping off Frank’s empty glass with more wine, you carefully got down from the bar stool that you were sitting on and rounded the island to make your way over to Frank. As you offered him the half full glass of wine, Frank’s eyes flickered curiously between it and your own gaze while his large hand reached out to wrap his fingers around the glass. Smiling softly up at him, you lifted your own glass slightly in the air.

“Well then, to Maria.”

There was a sudden luminescence to Frank’s warm brown eyes, but you didn’t get a chance to study it long before he nodded slightly and his lips stretched faintly into a tiny smile as he delicately clinked his glass against yours and repeated your toast in a more delicate volume of his deep voice.

“To Maria.”

»»———　　———««

“You’re fired.”

Hearty laughter boomed from deep within Frank’s chest and echoed over the crackling firewood currently blazing. He adjusted his position on the couch a few inches away from you, his features highlighted due to the radiant flames cascading from the fireplace in a contorted expression of skepticism and entertainment.

“What? Why?”

“I have known you for seven months, Castle. Seven. Months. And I’m just now finding out you have the culinary skills of a five star chef. Unacceptable. Unforgivable. I’m calling Billy first thing in the morning.”

You couldn’t hardly get through your own sentence without bursting into a fit of laughter, and Frank was in no better shape as he threw his head back against the couch and clutched at his chest with his hand that wasn’t holding his third glass of wine. There were nearly three empty bottles between the two of you forgotten on the dining table, and this was the most loose you had ever seen Frank. Maybe you should get him tipsy more often.

“You can’t fire me.”

“And why not?”

“Cause I ain’t assigned to you no more, brat.”

While Frank teased you nonchalantly as he sipped at his glass and watched the flames dance across the firewood, his words instantly sobered you up. He was right. The Defenders of Freedom had been caught, Steven was facing trial, and there was no reason for Frank to stick around anymore. It was a revelation you had been trying to ignore for the past twenty-four hours. A wave of uncertainty crashed over you in that moment. What would happen between you and Frank? When would he get assigned to someone else? Would that take him far away from you? How long could you stay in this little bubble outside reality?

Glancing down at the wounds in your palm that had steadily begun to heal, you lightly traced your thumb over the raised irritated edges as a thought suddenly flashed across your mind.

“I never thanked you.”

Even though your voice was barely above a whisper, Frank caught it, and he turned his head to look at you intently with slightly confused brows.

“For what?”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you shook your head faintly before looking back at Frank with subtle remorse.

“For everything you’ve done for me. For saving my life, more than once, and-”

Frank instantly brushed off your gratitude with a shake of his own head, reaching over to place his glass of wine on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“It’s my job-”

“No. Your job was to keep me safe, but you did so much more than that. You dealt with all of my shit, fixed every problem I created, and even when Homeland pulled you away, you still showed up for me. Frank, I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. You saved me from those guys at the bar, you saved me from Cavella and Walker, and…you’re still saving me, even now. I could’ve gone to a safe house with Dinah, but you brought me here, even though I’m not your problem anymore-”

Frank reached for your glass of wine and firmly set it on the coffee table, effectively catching your attention while he started almost directly into your soul with a serious expression.

“Hey, you have never been a problem. Ever. You got that?”

There were so many emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for seven months that you hadn’t been processing, and now they seemed to be rising to a level you could no longer ignore. The verity in Frank’s voice nearly had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you just wanted answers. Why did he care so much? Why was he still protecting you? Why were you here right now?

“Frank…you could’ve walked away. There were so many times you could’ve walked away. Why…why did you stay?”

A substantial weight felt like it had finally been lifted off your chest as you asked the one question that had been lingering in your bones for weeks now. Although that weight was replaced by a lead filled sense of dread while you waited with anxious anticipation for a response, knowing was better than not knowing.

Frank’s deep brown eyes stared so fiercely into your own, that you felt vulnerably stripped bare despite the clothing covering your body. When he reached his left hand over to place on your jean clad thigh, he grasped it firmly and leaned in just close enough so that you couldn’t escape the enrapture of his gaze.

“I want you to listen to me, right now. I’m always gonna keep you safe, you got that? Job or no job.”

The intensity burning in his eyes and the dropped octave of his rough voice nearly stunned you silent. Your lips parted slightly as if to speak, but your fogged brain struggled to form a coherent sentence. This was the closest you had been to Frank since you had climbed onto his lap in his truck, and you were fighting so hard to not let history repeat itself. But that look…that one goddamn look you could never decipher was roaring fervently in his gaze again, and you were going absolutely mad not knowing what it meant.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you found yourself leaning in closer, staring deeply into Frank’s warm brown eyes with a pleading look reflected in your own desperate stare. You wanted to know why. You needed to know why. And you were begging Frank for a confession that wasn’t encrypted.

“Why?”

“Because you’re mine to protect.”

The possessiveness that dripped from Frank’s low voice had you abruptly clenching your thighs together, trapping his thick fingers between your weakened knees. If he minded the entrapment at all, he didn’t show it. The blaze of the fireplace was no longer what had the temperature steadily rising within your body, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Frank’s vigorous and unwavering stare. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and even though you had a million questions clamoring through your brain, all you could manage to get out in a hoarse whisper was one you needed confirmation on.

“I am?”

Frank retracted his large hand from your thigh, raising it up slowly to carefully grab your face. A few of his long fingers curled around the back of your neck while his index and middle finger rested along the underside of your jaw, and his thumb pressed lightly against your chin. His heated gaze dropped to your lips momentarily before flickering back up to meet your eyes, and that fire in them was burning bright enough for God herself to see.

“You’re goddamn right.”

Without another word, Frank pulled you in for a searing kiss, pressing his soft lips against yours tentatively but with enough passion to make his answer crystal clear. A delicate noise of surprise sounded in the back of your throat, and for a moment you nearly stopped breathing. If that first kiss in Frank’s truck was a rare comet bursting across the sky, this one felt like a supernova erupting in a kaleidoscope of colors and stardust exploding across the expanse of the universe.

Even as he retracted his lips just a bit to stare deeply into your eyes to gauge your reaction, his hand gently cradling your face kept you firmly in place. All you could do was stare at Frank in complete stupefaction. Your lips were fervently tingling and your body felt like it had been struck by lightning. Frank’s eyes were searching yours for an answer he seemed to desperately need judging by the way his other hand lightly squeezed at your waist.

“If I’m crossin’ a line, you gotta tell me now. Cause I can’t go back, sweetheart.”

The tender emotion entwined within his words nearly made it sound like Frank was begging for your answer, and suddenly it all clicked. You could never figure it out before, but now as you stared at him in complete wonder and paid close attention to his display of vulnerability, you were finally able to decode that cryptic look in Frank’s eyes.

Desire.

“I don’t wanna go back.”

That breathless confession was all Frank needed, and he seemed to groan in relief when you surged forward to capture his lips with renewed vigor. Frank was so much more engaged in this kiss, and you took that as a good sign to give in to every single temptation. Before you could even think about climbing onto his lap, Frank was three steps ahead of you, and his large hands were firmly gripping onto your hips and effortlessly pulling you over to straddle his hips. Frank’s hands were everywhere; kneading at your denim covered thighs, gripping tightly onto your waist, carding his fingers through your hair and grasping at the back of your head to keep you as close as physically possible.

You cupped his face firmly in your hands and seductively swiped your tongue along his bottom lip begging for entrance, causing a low growl to resonate from deep within Frank’s chest, and his large hands suddenly squeezed your ass tightly through your jeans while you moaned when his taste met your tongue. The taste of Frank was much sharper this time, and you felt far more intoxicated by him than the three bottles of wine the two of you had consumed together.

Even with your chest pressed firmly against his own, it felt like you couldn’t physically be close enough. You wanted to be entirely consumed by Frank, to completely melt into the warmth of his skin and breathe his essence into your lungs. The synchronization of your lips and tongues molding together was impeccable, and the world outside ceased to exist while the two of you began to unravel one another.

An overwhelming surge of impatience had you nearly shredding his black henley with your nails while you fervently shoved it up his toned chest, eagerly caressing the scarred canvas of his tan skin with your fingertips like you had been daydreaming about doing since that night in the motel. He didn’t hesitate to teasingly brush his thumbs along the sliver of exposed skin above your hips before pushing your shirt up your waist and over your head. While you tore it off quickly and carelessly discarded it behind you, Frank dove in to attach his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, dragging his warm and wet tongue along the column of it before gently biting down on the juncture above your collarbone.

A soft moan slipped past your lips and you instinctively rocked your hips against Frank’s lap, coaxing a deep grunt from his chest. He left a searing trail of kisses along your shoulder, the rough pads of his fingers softly tugging the straps of your bra down your arms before splaying both of his large hands against your lower back to pull you further against his own chest. Frank nuzzled his large nose along your neck and whispered huskily into your ear.

“This alright?”

“Yes.”

Unfiltered lust clouded your vision a deep shade of crimson, and you blindly clawed at Frank’s belt while he continued his blazing path of kisses along your jawline and down your neck towards your chest. All of a sudden, his large hands clasped around your wrists gently to halt your movements, and he pulled back a bit to stare deeply into your eyes while panting slightly.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t no rush.”

“Frank, please.”

The desperate plea that sounded from your lips seemed to ignite a brand new fire within Frank, and your consent shredded that last strand of hesitation that was holding him back. He placed his large hands against your ass and lifted you effortlessly in the air, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Frank easily navigated around the coffee table and slowly knelt down on the fluffy cream colored rug in front of the fireplace, carefully laying you down onto your back. This time when you tugged the leather of his belt away from the buckle, he didn’t stop you, and instead his own deft fingers made lightning work in ridding you of your own jeans.

Slipping one of his hands underneath your back, he easily unhooked your bra with his thumb and index finger, and the second your bare chest was exposed to him, Frank firmly grasped one of your breasts in his calloused hand and took your peaked nipple into his mouth. Your lips parted widely feeling the jolt of pleasure that had you arching your back slightly when he swirled his warm tongue around the sensitive and stiff bud while gently sinking his teeth into the flesh of your breast.

The sensation elicited a series of breathless whimpers to leave your mouth, and Frank grunted lowly in response as you rolled your hips upwards in search of friction, feeling the heavy heat of his hardened cock against your lower stomach through the thin cotton of his briefs. It was a marvel you hadn’t flooded the cabin with how turned on you currently were, and this wasn’t even scratching the surface of what Frank was going to do to you. You gripped at his bulging biceps, his broad shoulders, dark tufts of his disheveled hair, anything you could get your hands on to keep him close to you.

Frank began to slowly descend your body, placing his hands firmly on your sides while leaving warm and wet open mouthed kisses down your stomach, even licking a teasing bold stripe above your belly button. The sight alone nearly made your eyes roll into the back of your head and caused you to whine softly, knowing exactly where his next destination was. But as much as you wanted to have Frank’s mouth on you, and God did you want it, you weren’t sure you could stand another second of not knowing what it felt like to have him inside you.

After he slipped your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, you gave his messy cropped curls a gentle tug to get his attention before he could spread your thighs and settle his broad shoulders between the apex of them. Frank glanced up to meet your gaze, his warm brown eyes nearly as black as the coffee he’d consumed this morning due to how wide his pupils were blown open. The hunger eclipsing them caused you to shudder, and you took a mental image of the sight of him nearly naked between your thighs staring at you like a ravenous wolf salivating at the sight of a vulnerable lamb.

“Please, Frank…I need you. I wanna feel you now…please.”

The two of you seemed to be stuck in the same conundrum, caught in tandem between wanting to savor the moment you had both waited so long for, and also wanting to give into the impulses of your magnetizing desire.

As much as you could see in his hungry expression that he wanted to take his time, to devour you slowly and worship every inch of you, the distress dripping from your breathless plea triggered his own raging need, and he silently obeyed while moving upwards again to hover over your body, capturing your lips in a deeply passionate kiss while you ardently pushed his briefs down his hips and off completely. Frank settled between your hips, displacing his heavy body weight by supporting himself on his forearms that were locked on either side of your head. You were completely caged in and at his mercy beneath him, but that was exactly where you wanted to be.

Frank searched your gaze ardently once again for any sign of hesitation, his dark eyes roaming up and down your face before his tongue quickly darted out to wet his lips.

“We can call it here, ya’know? No hard feelin’s. I can-”

Reaching a hand up to gently hold the side of his face, you placed your thumb against his plump lips to cut off the velvet timbre of his whisper.

“Frank, I want this. I want you. But if you don’t-”

“I do. You got no idea how much I do. But…I want it to be right, yeah?”

A gentle smile covered your lips while gazing up at him in complete adoration.

“Doesn’t this feel right?”

Frank’s eyes flickered between your own and he subtly nodded his head, glancing down at your lips briefly before looking directly into your eyes again.

“Yeah…yeah it does.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a sensual kiss, and the second he nudged the blunt head of his thick cock within your entrance, a sharp gasp flew past your lips and it felt like all the wind had been knocked right out of your lungs. He groaned quietly and nuzzled his large nose against the column of your neck, firmly grasping at your thigh and pulling your leg up and around his waist while he pushed in deeper slowly, one inch at a time.

While your nails instinctively dug fiercely into the muscle of his shoulders, no doubt leaving deep maroon crescent shaped indentations behind, Frank paused for a moment and snaked his hand down between your bodies, lightly brushing the rough pad of his thumb in lazy circles over your clit to help your body relax. You had been soaked through your panties from the moment your lips met, but Frank’s girth wasn’t one your walls had accommodated before, and he did his best to ease the sting of the burning stretch with stimulated pleasure.

“Frank…”

As soon as your hips connected completely and Frank was fully nestled within your tight heat, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head, and your jaw became completely unhinged as you let out a smooth legato moan. You felt Frank’s body tense above you while he buried his face into your neck, letting out a quiet hiss as he breathed out a shaky deep exhale.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart.”

“Oh my God…Frank-”

“I know baby, I know. Gimme a second.”

You don’t know how long it was before Frank finally started moving his hips. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. All you knew was that you had never felt so full and so complete in your entire life.

Letting out a quiet shudder, Frank slowly retracted his hips just a bit before cresting against you once again like a gentle tide. He removed his face from your neck so he could stare down into your eyes to watch your face, and you gazed up at him with wide-eyed passion and marvel. You brought your other leg up to also wrap around his waist and wrapped your arms securely around his neck, trapping Frank against your body just as much as you were beneath his.

Frank reached between your chests with his right hand and gripped his wedding band between his thumb and index finger, tossing it and the chain over his back so there was nothing separating the two of you, just his heated skin pressed firmly against yours. Bringing your hands upwards, your trembling fingers weaved through his hair, tugging somewhat roughly at the messy cropped dark strands on top of his head when he began to languidly increase his pace.

It was like you couldn’t speak. Your mouth hung open while you stared up into Frank’s warm brown eyes that seemed to gleam from the amber glow of the fire, but nothing came out except echoes of the pleasure he handcrafted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, watching in awe as his plump lips parted from panting heavily, his eyes becoming hooded from streams of ecstasy racing through his bloodstream. He gazed down into your eyes in complete adoration, gently stroking his index and middle finger down your cheekbone delicately as you stared up at him with parted lips and pleading eyes.

Frank brought his left hand up to gently brush your hair away from your forehead, cradling the back of your head while his right one came up once again to gently grab your face. Although this time, his index finger rested along your jawline while his thumb and other fingers laced around your throat carefully, which nearly sent you into a frenzy. He leaned in to teasingly slip his tongue into your mouth, kissing you with such ferocity as if he craved the very breath in your lungs.

Frank vacillated his hips repeatedly against your own in a steady rhythm, but with a meticulous precision that revealed new depths with your body even you weren’t aware of. Every sensual thrust wound that tense coil within you tighter and tighter, and it was only a matter of time before you erupted into gratified pieces of confetti. Reaching a shaky hand up to grip onto the back of his neck, your fingertips vibrated as they brushed over the close shaven hair on the back of his head, and you pulled him down forcefully for another deeply passionate kiss.

Only when your lungs began to burn due to lack of oxygen did you finally break apart. He leaned in to press his forehead against yours, gazing so deeply into your eyes you swore he could see right into your soul. You stared back up into Frank’s eyes as yours became glossy due to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure you were experiencing. His coarse grunts and reverberating groans echoing in your ears had your toes curling, and as your mouth hung open in silent begging, you nodded swiftly with an expression that let Frank know you felt it too.

“Please…please…”

That familiar bubble of euphoria was starting to expand wider and wider within your lower belly and you weren’t sure how much longer you had before it burst. The way Frank fit perfectly within your body was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, and you were stuck on the cusp of never wanting it to end, but also wanting to see just how far it could go. You had never been with someone that seemed to be so finely in tune with your body, or that genuinely cared about your satisfaction, but Frank was treating your pussy as if he had designed it specifically for himself. The realization of knowing you wouldn’t have to finish yourself off later like you had to with your exes was a welcomed relief, but not knowing what brink of indulgence Frank was about to catapult you over was exhilarating.

“Frank…Frank…”

“S’alright, baby, I know. Let me have it, yeah? C’mon baby, let go for me.”

A soft whimper slipped past your lips. You were so close, and God you wanted so badly to jump head first into the free fall. But a tiny part of you felt frustrated because you wanted to witness Frank free fall too. You wanted to see him let go, hear his praises of your name, and be coherent enough to feel Frank lose himself.

But you would have to wait your turn, because Frank was sending you barreling towards the edge of an orgasm with every punctual and powerful snap of his hips, and you had no choice but to surrender to the heat of his body enveloping yours in a cocoon of pure warmth and safety.

Frank grabbed both of your smaller hands and laced your fingers together, giving them a tight squeeze as a tangible reminder he was right there with you. He pinned them gently on the soft rug above your head, his pace becoming a bit sloppy as he began to lose his own composure.

“Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see them pretty eyes, c’mon. Let me see ‘em.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open until you physically couldn’t, wanting to witness every second of Frank’s own impending climax contorting his features as he fought to control himself until you were ready to let go.

“There ya go, attagirl. Let go for me, sweetheart. S’alright, let me have it, yeah?”

A symphony of his name played from your lips at a steady crescendo until it filled the entirety of the cabin, and all at once a flash of white exploded behind your eyes as you free fell through space and time, floating in a cloud composed of Frank’s honeyed praises of your name and delicate sweet nothings. You’d given yourself powerful orgasms before but you had never felt something so intense as the delectation Frank created. It felt like you were floating between the astral space between Heaven and Earth, and you weren’t sure you could find your way back to your physical body again.

There was a faint amber glow flickering across your closed lids, and as you slipped in and out of coherence, you felt soft lips delicately pressing against your forehead and the edge of rough fingers gently stroking along your cheekbone lovingly. You didn’t want to move, you weren’t even sure if you could, but there was one thing you did want.

“Frank?”

The voice that resonated in your ears was fuzzy and distant, and it didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. A strong pair of arms wrapped securely around you, pulling you in from your stranded orbit closer towards where you were meant to be, and Frank’s soothing gruff voice quietly dripped a sacred promise into your ear.

“M’here.”

The hypnotic lullaby of his heart’s rhythm tethered you back to the dreamlike reality of Frank holding you against his chest, and that was all you needed to slip away under the blanket of stars that were dancing behind your eyes.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

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fxtalitygod · 6 months

Text

VIII. ~Survival~

Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pet names (Little Flower used 5-6x) implied harsh parenting {on Sukuna's end), mentions of adult murder, implications of impregnating, implied Stockholm Syndrome, images/depictions of dead bodies (both human and animal), child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), NOT PROOFREAD YET (sorry ;-;)

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: For starters, I want to clarify that I am choosing to purposely not mention the names of the twins. Although this makes it difficult on my end, I wanted you, the reader, to decide on the names of your choosing while reading.

P.S. This is the longest chapter I have written. Sorry it took so long but I hope it proves well and worth the wait. (╥﹏╥)

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX

You could see the fire, smell the blood, and hear their screams as they begged for mercy. They cried out for their children and loved ones whose bodies were now burning in the roaring flames, reduced to cinders and ashes. Those who threatened to charge were killed before they could make contact, their body contorting in ways the human form was incapable of, causing cries of pure agony as they were left to bleed out in their mangled state– they were left to suffer in their pain as the life slowly drained out of them. If a suffering soul was fortunate, the fire would catch them aflame and kill them faster, or debris would land in a fatal spot or crush them whole to end their misery.

Viewing the demolished structures and flaming bodies, both dead and alive, was a petrifying view– yet you felt nothing. Your breath was methodical, your expression blank, your body unmoving. Pity and remorse were thrown out the window– fear and anguish had long vanished; however, anger and resentment lingered like a tiny flickering flame that continued to grow with each crumble and cry that could be heard.

Although your exterior appearance seemed calm and collected, your heartbeat said otherwise as it accelerated, pounding against your chest so hard you could eventually drown out the hollars of distress with its rapid thumping.

“Mama, look!” Two voices sounded.

Your breath hitched as the familiar calls rang through your head. The pounding in your chest quickened and strengthened when the footsteps got closer. Hearing their giggles and whispers caused your form to tense– not having the strength to say or do anything. How would you explain your current position? How would you tell them tha-

“Mama, are you alright?”

You snapped out of your daydream to see you were in front of the stream, taking care of your personal tasks, this chore being the cleansing of garments. The query of when you arrived there was unknown, but you would assume it had been for way longer than you should have resided in that area. The dreams you would endure during the solace of night, despite those nights being anything but comforting, had begun bleeding into the day and becoming more prevalent and gruesome. It was becoming quite the distraction.

"Mama?"

Before you could allow your thoughts to consume you, you focused your attention on your son and daughter, who were awaiting your reply with innocent eyes. Yeah, their virtue never ceased to amaze you. They were too good for this world– their empathy brought light to your soul that you believed had burnt out long ago– pride and joy.

You looked at your twins with an awaiting gaze as you watched their expressions turn into excitement at the realization they had caught your attention. You blinked once before being met with a piece of parchment littered with ink. It did not take long to realize that the twins had made you something in their short time away. Blinking up at the two, you gave them a fond grin before looking back down at the material. Upon viewing the parchment, you saw an image of what you assumed to be an image of a bird, and next to the picture was a small note.

" To show gratitude to our dearest mother," you read aloud before holding the small gift to your chest, "Thank you, my loves, it is lovely."

The joy on their faces from the small compliment warmed your heart, referring to your previous statement of them being too good for this world. There were moments when you could not believe that the twins were a product of you and Sukuna– that was a reoccurring thought you had often. They were, without doubt, your most significant and last blessing as things around the temple had not been going as smoothly as they once had been the first few years you resided in it, and it was clearly starting to take a toll on everybody, including you.

"Mama, guess what we learned today?" Your son exclaimed excitedly, causing you to jump a little, not expecting the sudden outburst of enthusiasm.

"Was it penmanship because the both of you are getting better. Have you been practicing like I have told you to?" You joked, poking at their bellies, causing them to giggle.

"No, Mama, Father taught us about Jujutsu!" your daughter shouted enthusiastically.

"Hey, I wanted to tell her," the boy pouted.

"Sorry," your little girl apologized as she turned to look at her brother with an apologetic look.

The sibling tried to look upset, not wanting to give in quite yet, but when he turned around to look at his sister's guilty expression, he launched to hug her. If you had said it twice, you were to state it a third time– the world did not deserve this pair– you could not stress that enough.

"Did he now?" you breathed, your anxiety slowly creeping to the back of your neck like it did so often.

You were aware of the agreement you made with Sukuna all those years ago, and as of things so far, you both were holding up to your ends of the deal. The twins continued to be educated under your supervision and occasionally your attendant. Your little girl and boy were now at the ripe age of six, at which they would begin manifesting their cursed energy, so they were now taking lessons under their father's supervision– that notion made you apprehensive of your deal.

As you previously mentioned, things were not going as smoothly as they once were. Your village has become slightly non-compliant recently. The traditional wedding ceremonies had stopped a little over a year ago as families started refusing to hand over their kin to Sukuna. Despite the disrespect, Sukuna had no care as he had plenty of women to satisfy him; however, to say that he was taking the rebellion lightly would be a complete lie. Over the last few years, more guards were posted for precautionary reasons. Nothing major had happened yet, only the occasional distant and muffled voices chanting in protest.

With such circumstances, emotions were running high, and the crowd only seemed to get bigger as the days passed. You could admit that some days were worse than others, but it did not change the fact that these events could cause a catastrophic resolution at the hands of your husband. Viewing the situation, there was no question that Sukuna would be more occupied than usual; however, it was not amid meetings or trivial tasks but with his children instead.

Sukuna could hardly be viewed as a legitimate father but rather a mentor– a cruel one based on the round, tear-stained cheeks that would walk into the garden after they had spent their designated time with their dad. The only children who seemed the slightest bit content with their learnings were your son and daughter. Your twins have not been training for long, but they had outlasted most other kids regarding their spirits breaking. The first day your little boy and girl had left to meet with Sukuna, you could not help but feel nervous; however, when they came back, they were all giggles and smiles as they told you of their time with the man they call father. To say you were shocked was an understatement, but despite that astonishment, you were simply glad they left a good impression and walked out unscathed, their spirits still intact.

"So, have your studies with your father come to fruition yet?" You asked, not thinking of your wording as the question effortlessly slipped from your tongue.

"Come to fruition?" your son repeated, looking at his sister to see if she understood the meaning of your words.

Despite your children being clever, they were still young and naive, and that naivety could not help but make you laugh gently as you watched them whisper to each other as they tried to decipher the saying. They paused in their little hushed conversation at your breathy giggle, flustered as they looked at you, hoping you would grant them the knowledge they wanted.

"Mama, stop laughing. What does it mean?" the two whined in sync as they looked at you with awaiting eyes.

"Alright," you managed to say between your little fits of giggles, "It means to succeed in the progression of a goal. In this case, did you reach the intended goal of your lessons today?"

Your twins thought over your words for a minute before a look of realization washed over their faces. The two looked at one another to make sure the other understood, finding they were both on the same page before turning to your now-awaiting gaze. Smiles were once again plastered to their expressions of proudness.

"Not exactly," your daughter stated.

"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?" you questioned with a raised brow as you looked for an answer.

"Well...we do not have cursed energy yet, but Father said it was okay because we will..." Your son trailed off before looking at his sister for assistance, trying to remember the exact words Sukuna had used.

"Manifest!" your daughter shouted in revelation after a moment of thought.

"Oh yes, manifest! He said it was okay because 'we will manifest our cursed energy soon enough,'" your son finished, ignoring the distant whispers and tiny gasps that had suddenly emerged from the surrounding women and children.

"And you both will, I am sure of that– my intuition is never wrong," a deep voice resonated behind the twins.

You froze as you looked up to see Sukuna looking down at you, a proud grin on his face as he let the words settle. Your smile had long disappeared, your lips forming into a tight line as you met his gaze. His presence was not what had upset you as you had grown familiar with his company and unexpected visits, but rather the fact that you knew he was right.

"Father!" the twins shouted, bowing before going in to hug his legs, looking up at him with their innocent doe-like eyes that shone the color of your own hues, little flecks of what seemed to be crimson could also be seen if the light hit them just right.

Your heart stopped for a second as you watched your four-armed companion freeze on the spot at the sudden attention. Although you knew Sukuna could not lay a hand upon his children due to the contents of the pact you had made with him, it did not eliminate the uneasiness you had, worried of the thought he would grow to distaste them. The curse-user was not a man of tenderness nor liked to be presented with such fondness, especially from his offspring. There was no room for weaklings in his realm, in hid brigade of suitable heirs.

You sit there, waiting for his reaction, chewing on your lip to the point it draws a small amount of blood. The man stood stiff, looking down at the two smaller beings that clung to his legs in a warm greeting before moving to bend down, causing your heart to spike in rhythm. The questions flooded your brain once more like they often did when it involved your significant other's actions. Sukuna took a set of his arms, placing one on each twin's back before meeting their eye level.

"Did I ever indulge either of you with the story of how I found out about your mother's conceiving of the both of you?" Sukuna asked, an arched brow with a devious smile as he switched eye contact from one twin to the other.

"No," your son replied honestly, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

With that short answer, Sukuna looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes before redirecting his focus on his kids once more.

"I knew that your mother would one day bear the fruit of her fertility, but there was one particular evening where I could sense an odd presence. I immediately called upon your mother, and when I was met with her physique, I could tell she was with child. It would have been unnoticeable, but my perception is unlike the average man. Looking at your mother, I could see her stomach was softer and slightly rounder, her ankles somewhat swollen, and her breasts enlarged."

You held back the bile rising in your throat as your husband explained his side of the story you knew all too well, remembering the exact events that led up to that day. His vulgar description of the event sickened you to the core.

"Your mother was unaware of her condition, but I was. The moment I felt her stomach, I could feel the presence of not one but two essences in her womb. I remember the look on her face when I told her– pure shock."

Sukuna's words offended you because pure shock was an understatement. You were undeniably mortified that day, but you would never admit that to your children. For their happiness's sake, you were willing to push the bitter memories of your pregnancy aside. They did not need to know your previous disdain for them– you had not even met them yet. What they did not know could not hurt them.

"How could you sense both of our essences?" Your daughter questioned, tilting her head as Sukuna focused his attention on her.

"Always the curious one, aren't you?" Sukuna noted, a teasing grin forming on his face.

"Mama says it is always best to stay curious because you will never learn anything new if you are too stubborn or scared to keep asking questions."

"Did she now?" Sukuna's grin grew wider as he drew his attention back to you, "And what do you believe that is a lesson of?"

"Fearlessness?" your daughter answered hesitantly.

"Close, but not quite," Sukuna started, "She is teaching you confidence."

"Is that not the same thing, Father?" your daughter questioned again.

"Not exactly, my child," The curse-user paused, looking at you for a fleeting moment before continuing, "being fearless is alright in certain circumstances– something as frivolous as a mouse is something to lack fear of, but there are certain things you should fear. Fear, my child, is what keeps you alive; however, it can be crippling at times. It is the confidence to overcome those fears that lets you survive."

"Why have you come here, Sukuna?" you suddenly asked, becoming tired and uncomfortable with his lingering presence. You knew that the man had not come for idle conversation and to share invasive stories nor explain your teachings.

Had your twins been any older, they would have caught onto your passive aggression as you addressed their father, staring at him blankly as he drew his attention to you. You were aware of the line you were crossing, aware of the hostility you were presenting in the presence of your children, despite the obliviousness of it, but with high tension in the temple and his sudden visit, you felt you had every right to feel uneased. Sukuna's gaze turned from teasing mischief into a grave look.

"Well, Y/n, I wish not to sully our bonding with grave matters," the man spoke, returning your passive-aggressive tone, "we'll speak of it later."

"So why did you come, father?" Your boy asked, looking up at the tall man.

"Must I have a reason to visit my kin?" Sukuna teased.

"Well, we do not see you much outside of lessons," your daughter jumped in with her own comment.

"Observant as well, huh?" Sukuna huffed, pausing for a moment before speaking up once more, "I was wondering if you both would accompany me on a hunt?"

That question caused their little orbs to light up, their little heads turning to you, silently begging for your approval. Looking at their pleading eyes, you could not say no, giving a nod of approval. If they were cheerful before, they were exhilarated now. These kids were to be the death of you if a simple pair of puppy dog eyes could make you cave like this, and you were okay with that.

"Can Mama come too?

Your blood ran cold at the mention of your name. There was no particular reason to be troubled, but at this point, it was a habit for these tense feelings to rise whenever your name was mentioned. So, as you look at your supposed significant other, you could feel yourself about to explain how you had other activities to attend to.

"I do not see why not."

Now, that was unexpected.

The words you were going to speak paused in your throat, swallowing them down when your little boy and girl rushed up to you after hearing Sukuna's approval, hugging you as they tugged on your hands to stand. What was he playing at? Despite the inquiry of his intentions, you had to push it aside as you saw the thrilled look on your children's faces–they most likely wanted to show off what they had learned while spending time with their father. They always returned with smiles of pride after spending time with their dad. You would give up your life to see them smile at you like that for as long as you lived, so you followed them as they walked beside Sukuna despite your own apprehension.

Time slowly passed as you trekked quietly through the nearby woods, watching Sukuna's movement as he led the three of you through the brush, pausing when something caught his eye. It took only a moment for a bow to appear in his hand, but when you had expected him to use it, he motioned over to your son, giving the child the weapon. Every motherly instinct told you to confiscate the bow, but quickly reminded yourself of your pact both in regards that Sukuna was bound to protect your children from harm and that you had accepted he could use any training methods he deemed necessary– this being one of them.

Sukuna was crouched the lowest he could get, arms hovering over your boy's form, guiding his son while speaking in a low voice as the two focused on the prey ahead. Looking into the small clearing, you could see a few grazing rabbits, clueless and defenseless to the threat before them, nibbling on the dewy grass. The bow's snap and the sight of an impaled rabbit caused you to return from your light daze, turning over to see your son smiling in excitement.

"Did you see that, Mama? I did it!" the boy beamed, maintaining a hushed voice.

You gave your son a warm smile, nodding in reassurance before watching your son switch places with your daughter. The rabbits that previously remained in the clearing had run off, but one straggler emerged from bushes, unaware of what had occurred, clueless about its impaled companion. In a mere few moments, the creature suffered the same fate as the previous one, bringing joy to your little girl. She turned to you with the same smile as her brother's– it frightened you.

You had no doubt that you loved your children for who they were. You loved their innocence, passion, and joyful nature, but a realization had dawned upon you in these moments– one that made your heart drop to your stomach.

"Mama, you try!" your daughter called out, grabbing your hand as she led you toward a better spot to shoot from, that spot closer to Sukuna.

Their reason for upbringing would be to take their father's place, to be his heir, and Sukuna was not giving that role to a charitable and naive son or daughter. Things seemed pleasant for now, and your children might keep their nature through adulthood, but one thing was for sure. Whether they stayed that way or not, they would feel justified in their actions– believe what they were doing was good because that is what their father was teaching them, and you were enabling it.

"Darling, I'm not sure that it would be wise for me-"

"I think it is a marvelous idea," Sukuna interrupted, standing from his crouched position and grabbing your waist.

You felt the man's hands slither up your body, messing with the material of your clothing before touching your flesh. Your skin burned unpleasantly as his hands settled, a faux attempt to adjust your form when you were capable; however, with your twins present, you would not dare cause a stir. Looking at the clearing, there was nothing seemingly there as all the critters that previously inhabited it ran off.

"There's nothing for me to target, so maybe we should end this," you suggested, trying to excuse yourself from this activity, keeping a low tone.

"If nothing is there, why do you whisper, Little Flower?" Sukuna responded in a hushed voice, feeling his smirk form as his face rested against your cheek.

Before you could respond, the sound of fluttering was heard. Without thought, you lifted the bow's angle, shooting the arrow into the air– a thud sounded shortly after as whatever you had shot hit the ground. Looking down, you could see a bird skewered with an arrow, blood pooling from its limp body and staining the grass surrounding it.

"Mama, you did it!" the twins exclaimed, thrilled you had participated.

Their sounds of excitement were drowned out by the ringing of your ears as your gaze lingered on the deceased animal. What had you done? Yes, you had viewed death without so much as a flinch, but you were not the one with blood on your hands. You were unaware you could perform such an action– you had never held a weapon before, only a mere kitchen knife.

It disturbed you.

How did you kill the helpless creature so instinctively? So effortlessly? The worst part is...

It felt good.

The ringing eventually subsided as the bow settled to your side, turning your head toward the two-faced man you called 'husband' and handed it to him. Thankfully, Sukuna took the item with no smug remark or wicked grin, giving you one of his infamous blank looks before moving his gaze toward the kids, motioning for them in the direction of the temple, settling one of his hands at the small of your back as you all started the walk back.

Making the hike back, you settled on your earlier realization regarding your children. You would love them until the end of time, and you had no doubt about that; whether they were inherently good or bad– you would love them. But now, as you continue to think, all you can think about is the future. Where would you and your twins be standing in the years to come? What kind of life would you three indulge in if you were all to live? How many bodies would have to pile under your feet before you were guaranteed genuine safety for you and them?

For the years under the same roof as Sukuna, you had been focusing on your mother's words, the promise you had made to her.

"I promise I will survive– longer than anyone."

Your life had been summed up by that promise. So far, you have kept faithful to it because you have been surviving. From your wedding day to your pregnancy, to the many inspections you attended, all up until now, as you approached the temple, you have been surviving. You played all the right cards to get you here and made all the right sacrifices to keep your children alive– what more could you ask for? You were alive and breathing along with your children, and that is all that truly mattered, right?

No.

You may have been playing this game of survival and have been successful thus far, but there was one thing you had failed to do...

Live, you had failed to truly live.

You have played your part in your husband's sick game. You married him, gave him your purity, gave him children, and now you were done. You were more than aware of the pact you had made with your husband, but almost every contract had a loophole whether it could be seen or not.

"We are relocating."

Your heart rate accelerated as Sukuna bent down to whisper those words into your ear, the words taking a moment to register. Was it out of fear? Anger? Possibly both? No. It was excitement. You had given your word that you would never leave the temple unless it was under Sukuna's supervision and say so. Unless he accompanied you outside those gates, you would remain here; however, you had never given your word to stay by his side.

You had given your word to stay at the temple.

The curse-user had just given your confirmation of freedom without being aware he was doing so.

"May I ask why?" you dug, trying to keep your composure to not seem suspicious, as if he could tell what you were thinking if you had shown the slightest emotion.

"I have simply grown bored of this place, plus I have got what I needed from these people, and they all stand right here before me," Sukuna explained, the last part of his statement being clear that he was referring to you and the twins.

"Where would that leave my village?"

Now, that was a genuine question. You were not as concerned for your village but rather your family instead. The four-armed beast of a man was not known for leaving a town so quietly– you had heard plenty of notorious stories from survivors to prove that.

"What of it?"

"Will it remain in one piece, or will it be returned to the dirt?"

"That entirely depends on them, Little Flower."

The answer was vague– it was neither a confirmation nor a denial, but you could understand the meaning behind his words. For the sake of your family, you hoped that the village elders would not perform anything stupid. You hoped they could shove their egos aside and let Sukuna leave the town with what minimal disturbance he was willing to make. Everything you have worked so hard to achieve would be ruined without their cooperation.

Approaching the temple, you could not help but feel the delight swell in your chest. After years of this torment, this unjustified punishment, you are finally going to be free. You have survived, and now you will live. The journey has been difficult, but now you will achieve the tranquility and normalcy you deserve. Your children will have the chance to live a standard and carefree life, unlike the competitive and tiring one they would achieve with their father.

It was finally over.

Arriving at the temple did not feel as bitter this time, watching your children running to your attendant as she greeted you all, giving a respectful bow before taking off with the children, most likely heading off to eat. It was quiet as you stood in the garden; everyone else had gone to fill their appetite– it was just you and Sukuna.

"What has you smiling so brightly, Little Flower."

You had not noticed it, but you had plastered a broad, foolish grin onto your face. Usually, your partner catching this would have brought you anxiety as you thought of the right words, but you did not feel that way– quite the opposite. You were proud that he had noticed, allowing your smile to grow wider.

"I feel like a burden has been lifted off my shoulders, and I cannot wait to leave this place."

"I am glad I could bring such relieving news and bring a smile to your face," Sukuna responded, smiling down at you before taking your chin between his fingers and bending down, "Once you put the children to sleep, come seek me out as we have much more to discuss."

You could only smile stupidly, nodding and allowing Sukuna to kiss you before heading to your children. You did not care what the two-faced monster had to share with you, but you would indulge him because this would be the last time you would ever have to.

You were free.

"Oh, hello, Y/n-sama! We were just finishing our meals. Should I fix you something as well?" your attendant offered, keeping a light-hearted tone.

The young woman had grown more confident with you over the years. The two of you had grown quite close after the birth of your children– she was the only person you full-heartedly trusted with your kids. Maybe you would take her with you in your escape; she was far too good to serve ungrateful and bitter women.

"No, thank you, I am not that hungry; however, I have grown rather tired, meaning it is time for bed."

"Awwwwww," you twins whined in unison, looking at your attendant with puppy dog eyes, hoping she could convince you, only to receive a shake of her head.

The twins stood begrudgingly, approaching your awaiting stance, giving you the same desperate eyes. You gave your own silent response as you offered a warm smile and a quick shake of your head before having them follow you down the halls. In any other scenario, you would have in, but things were different now. Your children need to be well-rested for the upcoming events. You were going to give them the life they deserved.

Arriving at their sleep quarters, you slid the door open, allowing the twins in first before following. Before closing the door, you took a peek out into the hallway to make sure no one was approaching. Once you deduced nobody was coming, you slowly and quietly slid the door shut, quick to approach your kids' bedside.

"Mama, do we have to go to bed?" your daughter whined.

"Yeah, do we really have to?" your son followed.

You could not help but lightly chuckle at their resistance to sleep. Your heart filled with warmth as you remembered sharing a similar moment with your mother. There were many occasions they reminded you of yourself, and you could not wait to see more of those similarities manifest when you leave this temple. You could not wait to give them a regular and well-deserved life.

"Yes, you both have to rest. You two need to preserve your energy for the days to come."

That statement piqued their interest, their faces perking up with intrigue.

"What is to come, Mama?" the twins sounded in unison like they did so often in these moments. Sometimes, it was almost as if they shared the same mind.

"Well, soon enough, you will get to meet your grandparents," you whispered, "you cousins, aunts, and uncles, all from Mama's side of the family."

"Really?!" the two shouted, settling down when you gestured for them to lower their voices.

"Yes, but do not tell your father, it is..." you trailed, picking your words carefully, "a surprise visit just for the three of us, and I do not want him to feel left out."

There was no doubt that you despised Sukuna in every sense of the word, but you did not wish for your children to hate him. Believe it or not, you wanted your twins to paint a good picture of their father, and whether that picture remained clean was up to Sukuna himself– you would not tarnish his name for him.

"Okay, Mama, we promise we will not tell." your son spoke for the two of them, his sibling nodding in turn as she motioned to seal her lips.

You smiled, whispering a small thank you before kissing the top of their foreheads and letting them rest. You stood quietly, blowing out the candles illuminating the room before leaving. Once you stepped foot into the hallway, you were startled to see a guard, a familiar one at that, though he had clearly aged with time.

"Y/n-sama, I have been instructed to take you to your sleeping chambers," the male spoke before swiftly turning on his heel to lead you to your room.

The man's voice was cold and almost distant as he spoke to you, but his voice was familiar. You were acquainted with most of the staff within the temple, but you could not remember where you had met him in particular, though he seemed familiar and significant. Your face contorted as your mind pondered, trying to recognize his face in your personal timeline, but nothing came to mind.

"Your wedding night," the guard spoke suddenly, noticing your expression of thought, "I held and guarded the door during your wedding night."

You thought back to your wedding day, and it suddenly hit you. The guard was the same one Sukuna had forced to watch the consummation of your marriage. You quickly grew flustered at the memory, clearing your throat before speaking.

"I recall now," you responded, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you happy, Y/n-sama?" another unshakable tone as he questioned you.

Why was he asking this?

"Yes, I'm happy."

You did not know what this man was playing at, but you did not want to fall into any traps, so you gave the preferred answer when this question was presented to you on many occasions.

"Even though you have suffered all these years, bearing and raising his offspring?"

"Excuse me?" you grimaced at the guard's words.

"Nothing, I am sorry, I have overstepped my boundaries. I will leave you now," the man uttered, leaving you at the doorway to your sleeping quarters.

You narrowed your eyes, staring as the male's figure grew smaller in the distance. What did he gain from that interaction? No matter– it was no longer your problem to deal with. Collecting yourself, you entered the room and immediately faced Sukuna.

"Come and close the door. We must speak of these urgent matters in private," Sukuna muttered as he blankly stared at the wall in front of him.

You did not question the man and slid the door closed, approaching him as he turned to you. Before you could speak, Sukuna placed a pair of hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes. His gaze held no emotion you could directly name, but you could sense an urgency in his tone as he spoke to you.

"We leave tonight. The others have been informed and are gathering their belongings– I advise you to do the same."

"What?! Now?! Sukuna, what is going on that you are not telling anyone?" you urged, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Now is no time to be questioning me, Y/n. Hurry, we are leaving shortly."

"No."

The word slipped out without thought. You did not care when you left because your plans would not change, but your partner was acting strangely, and you could not help but be curious as to why. The curiosity is what led you to stand there motionless as your husband stared you down.

"Stubborn as always, I see," the curse-user muttered, "Fine, you want to know, huh? We made a pact, and I'm upholding the bargain. You told me to protect those children, right? Well, for their interest, we are leaving, so be grateful."

You stood there silently, looking into Sukana's unwavering gaze.

"What is going on?" you repeated the question.

"Your village plans to lay siege, and we are leaving to not get caught in the firing radius."

That explained the tensity and whispers among the temple. That explained the extra protection. Everything now made sense and you could not help the feeling of something rising up your throat.

Laughter.

You laughed uncontrollably, trying to cover your mouth to muffle the outburst, but to no avail. Nothing about the situation was logically funny, but you could not control yourself.

"After years of torment, they only now decide to lay siege?" you cackled, "And the best part is that Ryomen Sukuna is fleeing with his tail between his legs."

You should have seen what was to come next when you made that last statement, feeling your hair being tugged to look up at the man you had insulted. Your laugh quickly subsided, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stared into his orbs. You had crossed a line this time, but for once, you were not scared of the intimidation; however, what had shocked you was Sukuna smashing his lips against yours.

"I am the most feared man in Japan– I have no reason to be scared, at least for myself. I am doing this for us and our creation because I love you, Little Flower."

"You do not love me. You love what I can do for you, Sukuna."

"I see where our children have gotten their observance." Sukuna joked, "But you are not entirely wrong. However, that does not change the fact we are leaving right here and now so collec-"

"AHHHHHHHHHHH"

The deformed man paused mid-sentence at the high-pitched scream, storming out of the room to see the commotion. You wasted no time in following him, walking down the hall before being met with the stench of blood. Had one of the pregnant wives gone into labor? Was someone injured? Or was...

Before you could finish that last thought, you were met with the sight of a lifeless body surrounded by its own red fluid. It was disturbingly familiar, and that was because it was the body of the guard that had escorted you earlier. You were shocked at his mangled state, his face just barely beyond recognition, but before you could allow the shock to settle in, another sound of screams was heard in the opposite direction.

Without thought, you bolted in the direction the screams came from. You flew past those blank walls faster than you knew you were capable of before landing at the sight of another body surrounded by women. It was your attendant, her face frozen in fear, her body almost in the same state as the previous one. This death hit you harder than the earlier one as you covered your mouth, keeping the bile from rising up your throat.

Despite the grief and sickness you were feeling, you could only think of one thing, and that was your twins. You lingered for a second longer before running to your twin's bedroom. You had not noticed, but Sukuna trailed behind you closely as you sprinted through the temple. Your breath was running ragged, but you would be damned if you were to leave your twins behind in this gruesome mess.

You made it to the door, sliding it open and rushing in, your eyes scanning the room for your twins, but they were nowhere to be seen. Your heart hammered against her chest as you began to panic, turning to Sukuna to see that his face was once again blank as he looked into the room from the doorway. Why did he have that look on his face? It did not matter– you had to search for your children. You turned to look back into the interior room, looking up from the bedrolls to be met with the wall, and heard the sound of a scream once again, your heart dropping.

You had found your twins hanging from the wall, a message written above them that was written in their own blood.

"Bring back our daughter."

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#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #ryomen sukuna #sukuna fanfic #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna #tw stockholm syndrome #tw death mention #tw dead body #tw suggestive #tw child murder

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mountttmase · 3 months

Text

Little Bean

Note - happy Friday, here’s just a tiny something I wrote yesterday after we were talking about pregnancy cravings 🩷 feedback would be appreciated as always 😌

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 986

Warnings - fluff

‘So you want peanut butter and… pickles?’ Mason asked, a questioning tone to his voice as if he thought you were mad but you’d been craving the strange combination all day.

‘Maybe some chocolate chips too? Oh and the really cheap fluffy white bread, none of that 50/50 crap’ you told him.

‘You’re absolutely sure that’s what you want?’

‘It’s not what I want Mase, it’s what our little bean wants’ you told him, your hand falling to your rather large belly. Truth be told your little bean wasn’t so little anymore but it was yours and Mason's first nickname for your baby and it had just stuck so whilst you were still deciding on names the pair of you always referred to them as your little bean.

‘You want a drink or anything else?’

‘You know what I really fancy a vimto’ you told him, watching him shake his head with a laugh before kissing your forehead as he got up.

‘Okay well I won’t be long’

‘Thank you, Mase. I really appreciate you going to get it for me’ you told him sincerely but he was more than happy to do it for you.

‘Well it’s my duty as a dad’ he laughed. ‘You’re giving me a baby, the least I can do is go buy the love of my life some pickles and peanut butter at 11:30 at night’

‘Don’t forget the vimto’ you called as he got closer to the door and the loving smile he sent your way made your heart race.

‘I won’t baby. I’ll be as quick as I can, yeah? Love you’

‘Love you more’ you called, blowing him a quick kiss that he adorably caught, putting it in his pocket before leaving the room.

The small Sainsbury's was only a few minutes away and Mason kept his hat on and head down the whole time he was in there. Laughing to himself as he picked up everything you’d asked for and even getting a multipack of vimto just in case you wanted more tomorrow.

When he’d asked you earlier on if you fancied a snack he was expecting you to say ice cream like you had been for weeks but this new concoction had him stunned and confused. You were giving him the greatest gift he could ever ask for though so as soon as your order was in he was off to get it for you.

The shopping trip went without a hitch and he was home within 15 minutes. Unpacking his little haul before he got to making your special sandwich of peanut butter and pickles with chocolate chips and an ice cold vimto on the side. Nearly gagging as he placed it all together on the plate but if that’s what you wanted then that’s what you were getting.

You were sat up and waiting for him when he returned to your room, eyes lighting up and the sight of him and your heart thumped at the way he presented you your creation with a proud smile on his face.

‘Thank you, Mase. I really do appreciate you’ you told him. Kissing his cheek quickly as you took the plate from his hands and as soon as he set your glass on your bedside table he was undressing himself and getting back into bed next to you.

He watched on in what would only be described as fascination and slight horror as you took your first bite. Thinking maybe it had been a joke this whole time but there you were, eyes rolling back in your head as you munched away and as much as mason wanted to ask how it was he didn’t want to disturb your moment.

‘God that hits the spot. It's better than I thought it would be’ you told him after your second bite, looking over to him to find him trying to hold back a laugh. ‘You know what? The chocolate chips really set it off, I’m a genius I swear’

‘Yes you are baby’ he laughed, kissing your shoulder before he started to shuffle down and lay next to you.

‘You want a bite?’

‘You know what, I’ve got training early so I best not’ he told you, but you knew it was just an excuse. ‘Maybe tomorrow’

‘I’ll have one waiting for you when you get home’ you joked, watching his face scrunch up in disgust causing you to laugh loudly.

‘Can’t wait’ he chuckled, settling himself down next to you. ‘You gonna be able to sleep after all that sugar?’

‘I’m six months pregnant Mase, of course I’ll sleep’ you told him. Reaching out to run your fingers through his hair, your heart racing as his snuggled into your thigh and wrapped his arm around your leg. ‘Just let me finish and we can cuddle’

‘Fine but I wanna be the big spoon. Not sure I want pickle peanut butter breath in my face all night’

‘I’m gonna clean my teeth you big baby’

‘Doesn’t matter how much you clean them, I’ll still know’ he teased and you couldn’t help but laugh at him.

‘You’re insane’

‘Says the one eating something i could find in a bin’

‘Hey, stop being mean’ you laughed. Polishing off the last of your sandwich as he kissed your thigh as an apology. ‘I’ll be back in a sec yeah?’

‘You want a hand up?’ He offered sweetly but you just shook your head and stroked his hair.

‘I’m good, thank you though’ you laughed. Getting yourself out of bed to clean your teeth but you stopped as you got to the door so you could look back at Mason all curled up in bed waiting for you. You heart thumping at the sweet man you got to call your own with tonight only confirming to you once again he would be the only man you’d ever need.

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cillianhead · 6 months

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you could write a little smutty/angsty something for Neil Lewis. Maybe bestfriend!reader, who recently got with some other man, and Neil is incredibly jealous and maybe... possessive. 👀 Some angst heated argument finished with a smut would be lovely. 🤭

Thank you!

Of course, of course!

Thank you for your request!

You're The Only One Who Makes Me Feel Alive || Neil Lewis x Reader

warnings: Smut, angst, best friends to lovers, swearing, slight (?) drug use (marijuana), jealousy, unprotected P in V, Neil is quite obsessed with reader's boobs (because c'mon, NEIL IS A BOOB MAN!!!) like sort of switch!neil but not quite, adult content!

18+ Minors DNI

It was a slow Friday night at Gumshoe Video. You had closed by now, though. You sat between Lucien and Jonathan, a bit stoned, and watched some horrible Horror-Parody film called 'Bad Taste'. You had zoned out, drowning out Jonathan and Lucien's incessant bickering about the film and whether it was good or bad.

"-It's Peter Jackson, for Christ's sake. It's a masterpiece of its time or whatever," Lucien argued. Jonathan just scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's supposed to be ridiculous!" Lucien protested.

"Are we watching the same movie?" Jonathan grunted with a hint of amusement. "How the hell did someone see this and think... 'yeah, that's the guy we're getting for Lord of the fucking Rings'!"

Lucien quipped back something particularly witty and sarcastic, but it all turned into one big blur of words to you. You were incredibly bored and stoned that none of what was happening on the TV screen made sense. You looked like a zombie, lips parted and an expression of awe on your face.

"Not this stupid movie," You heard the sound of Neil's voice from behind you. Quickly sitting up and turning to look at him, like an expectant dog when its owner comes home. "I've got the snacks if you guys even care." Lucien and Jonathan grumble their words of appreciation while you just sat and smiled at your best friend.

You all had smoked together, but you hadn't really prepared for the munchies that would come along with it. So you flipped a coin, and poor little Neil was the one who had to go to the nearest convenience store and buy as much junk food as he could carry. Two seafoam green plastic grocery bags were hanging off of Neil's sturdy forearms that said 'Recycle Me!' on them while he stood, smiling back at you.

"What'd you get Neily-poo?" You hummed, standing up and approaching him.

"I hate it when you call me that," Neil grumbled before handing you one of the bags. "I just got all the classic snacks... Cheetos, Twizzlers, Lucien's favorite white chocolate... and of course, I got your favorite..."

You squealed out of delight, lunging on Neil and wrapping your arms around him. "Did you really?" You said, pulling away with your arms still around his neck. Neil hummed while pulling the familiar mouth-watering box of Swedish Fish out of the grocery bag.

You properly pulled away now and snatched it out of his hand greedily. "Hey...! Wait... where's my thanks?" He tilted his head, tapping his pointer finger on the apple of his cheek. You rolled your eyes playfully before placing a grateful peck on his cheek.

You two sat on the spare couch together. You leaned against Neil, as you always do, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you. It had always been that way with you two, both very physically affectionate with each other. Though not when Neil was in a relationship, you knew how threatened his girlfriends felt by you, though you never understood why... Neil was always insistent on how you were just a friend, even going as far as to say you were like a sister to him.

When the movie ended and Neil had a bit more to smoke, you all sat around munching on your snacks, thinking of what to do next.

"Do you guys wanna come over to my place, and we can do this again tomorrow night?" Neil asked, scratching at his chin.

"Sure, I'd love that, dude," Jonathan nodded before popping a handful of peanut M&M's into his mouth. "Sounds great." He said with his mouth full.

"Gross!" You scolded, throwing a piece of popcorn at him. "Don't eat with your mouth full..."

"What did you just say?" Lucien laughed.

"I mean... don't talk with your mouth full!" You corrected, and everyone sat around giggling at that. "You knew what I meant!" Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment at your mistake.

"...and yeah, I'll come over tomorrow night." Lucien said to Neil. Neil gave him a thumbs up before turning his head over to you.

"How about you, Y/N?" Neil hummed, sighing as he leaned his head against the couch, cheek smushing a bit as he smiled softly down at you. He's so pretty, I just wanna kiss him, You thought."You wanna come over?" Yikes, you thought. You bit your lip and sucked in a breath. "Well... I... well... actually, I've got plans tomorrow, guys... I'm sorry." You shrugged apologetically.

"What?" Jonathan murmured, mouth still full, chewing obnoxiously loud.

"Since when do you have plans?" Lucien remarked. You gave him a dry smile.

"I'm going on a date... believe it or not," You snorted, looking down at your lap, embarrassed to admit. You never really talked about your love life with the guys, especially not Neil. Things always got awkward. Neil never discussed his with you either; you'd only briefly meet his girlfriends, and then that was it. You didn't understand why it had to be so awkward between you when discussing dating.

The room went silent at that. You looked towards Neil, his arm retracted away from you and tucked back into his side as you noticed the frown on his face. You could see the look on Jonathan and Lucien's faces, eyes flickering between the two of you, trying to gauge some sort of reaction.

"Oh..." Neil mumbled, sounding disappointed, popping a popcorn kernel into his mouth and chewing dryly. "Good for you... congratulations..."

"We're not getting married," You laughed uncomfortably. "Plus, I doubt it's gonna be anything that special... we're going to some downtown dive bar to have drinks and then probably go back to his place or something..." Neil had a visible expression of distaste, fiddling with his thumbs. You didn't get why he was so upset. "What's his name?" He said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Russell."

"Russell." He repeated coldly. Jonathan and Lucien were utterly silent. The tension was thick, and trying to waft through it felt suffocating.

"Why are you upset?" You blurted out. "Can't you at least be happy for me for once that I'm finally fucking going out with somebody?"

""Course I'm happy for you, Y/N, I just don't want you... to get hurt..." Neil muttered. "That's all."

"Right." You scoffed, scooting to the other side of the couch.

The tension was unbearable, and Jonathan shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Things always got weird when you brought up a guy you like or a guy you were seeing. You never got why. Why would Neil be upset that you were seeing somebody? How many girlfriends did you have to sit and watch him be with? How many painful breakups have you comforted him through? How many times had you encouraged him to go over and talk to a girl he thought was pretty? A countless amount of times, that's what. So the fact that the mood visibly shifted as soon as you said you were going on a date... it pissed you off. Neil was never encouraging when it came to putting yourself out there romantically. It was almost like he was jealous, but you knew he had no reason to be.

"How'd you meet?" Lucien cleared his throat, trying to lighten the air.

"Well when I was here alone the other day... he was in the shop-"

"He was in the shop?" Neil interrupted with a whine, eyebrows knitted together.

"Yeah, he was, so what?" You turned and looked at Neil, glaring at him.

"Can't believe you're going out with a customer," Neil muttered. "Thought you were better than that." "What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"It... no... nothing, just-" "God forbid I meet someone!" You were standing up now. Lucien and Jonathan had gotten up and wandered over to the other side of the shop, pretending they were browsing the shelves. "How many fucking bimbos have you asked out that had come in here, Neil?" "Y/N-" "I'm leaving." You barked, grabbing your things and rushing out, not before giving Lucien and Jonathan a gentle wave before slamming the door and walking home in the pouring rain.

The walk home was long and treacherous. Usually, Neil would drive you home. But you couldn't stand to be around him right now, not after his hypocritical words. When you got home, you collapsed in bed, still in your wet clothes, and cried your eyes out. Thunder cracked outside, and your windows rattled with the harsh wind. Your phone began to ring, the familiar ringtone you assigned to Neil's contact buzzing through your pocket. You just groaned.

"Go away, Neil." You grunted into your pillow, bickering to no one. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Curling up into a ball, the tears continued to fall. You hated the way you felt towards Neil; you hated that you wanted him to be more than just a friend. Your phone kept ringing, and it only made you cry harder.

You remembered freshman year of high school when you first met Neil; you instantly clicked and were in every class together. Everyone always thought you were dating, and you'd both share a round of 'Ew's and 'That's never gonna happen' and then silently look at each other thinking 'What if' (unbeknownst to each other). You always daydreamed about losing your virginity to Neil, the scrawny, awkward pimply boy who was the sweetest guy you'd ever met, though you ended up losing it to some guy called Lloyd over a dare. It wasn't very romantic, nor was it pleasurable. You just laid there and thought about Neil the whole time.

The sleep you got that night was terrible, but you tried to focus on the positives. You were going on a date! Yay! Not with Neil, though. You spent the day mostly picking out an outfit, mentally scolding yourself for not deciding on it sooner since most of your good clothes were dirty and you were feeling incredibly antsy. Your phone had been blowing up all day. Texts from Neil, Jonathan, and Lucien lit up your screen every other second. You didn't reply, you couldn't, you felt entirely too embarrassed.

Meanwhile, Lucien lounged on the couch at Neil's house, and Jonathan watched Neil pace back and forth in his kitchen while making handmade whipped cream. They were going to make a cake.

"I just don't know what to do, man," Neil huffed, stirring the bowl even more aggressively. Jonathan watched, unsure of how to comfort his friend. "What the fuck do I do? What if this guy is like... her soulmate or something cliche like that?"

"Okay," Jonathan laughed, putting his hand in the air. "Russell is not her soulmate." "How do you know? Have you met him?" Neil hissed back.

"No, but... how do we even know this 'Russell' guy even exists? What if she's just trying to make you jealous?"

"That's a good point!" Lucien quipped in from the other room.

"Thanks, Lucien," Jonathan rolls his eyes before looking back at Neil, who has set the bowl aside, melting to the floor with tears. "Look... dude, I think you should go over there and tell her how you feel... the worst she can say is no..."

"The worst she can say is no," Neil mocked, tears streaming down his face. "Yeah fuckin' right! She's gonna..." Neil sobbed, hiding his hands in his face. "I'll go over there, and she'll... never want to speak to me again... she wouldn't feel the same way... it's impossible!"

Jonathan looked exasperated. It was painfully apparent to everyone but you and Neil that you two were soft for each other. You usually spend every day together. The idea of losing you to some other guy was heartbreaking for Neil. Neil cried like a baby, and Jonathan watched, awkwardly leaning against the counter, unsure what to say.

"Just fucking do it, you fucking idiot!" Jonathan blurted out. "I know she likes you... do you really think Y/N would've stuck around this long with us losers if she didn't feel something for you?"

"I don't know, Jonathan..." Neil whimpers, looking up at Jonathan with the most pitiful eyes anyone has ever seen. He looked straight out of a painting.

"And even if she doesn't feel the same for you..." Jonathan continues, crouching down to be at his height on the floor. "You guys have known each other way too damn long to just throw away a good friendship over you liking her. Y/N's a smart girl. She'll learn to accept it if she doesn't feel the same way."

Neil just buried his face further into his knees, continuing to cry. "Gee, you'd think he just got his period or something." Lucien said unhelpfully.

"Shut up, Lucien!" Neil and Jonathan yelled in unison.

"Listen, I think you should just tell her... she ain't responding to any of my texts... and I don't know how it's gonna go with this Russell guy tonight, so I reckon you should head on over there..." Jonathan rambled. Neil still stayed in the same place, with his head in his hands. "Like right now!" Jonathan yelped, and Neil jumped at the sudden shift in volume and tone.

Neil approached your house as you sat in some dive bar, waiting for your date. His key twisted your locked door. Unbeknownst to him, the house was completely empty. And as he walked in, Russell was yet to arrive, over twenty minutes late to your date. At this point, you'd accepted that you had been stood up and patted yourself down, ensuring you had everything you brought.

"Y/N!" Russell's voice greets you, clearly out of breath. "I'm so sorry for being late... traffic was awful." Yeah, right, you thought. But you gave him a small smile and sat back in your booth. "That's alright," You pressed down your skirt that rested uncomfortably high on your thighs, trying to calm your nerves. The leather of the seats stuck to your thighs as Russell began making small talk. How boring. You found yourself zoning out as you downed the drink Russell had bought you just to try and cope with the terribly grim situation you were dealing with. Russell was some sort of accountant. Just the idea of finance lulled your brain into a state of boredom and borderline sleepiness. Russell's voice was monotone, and the way he licked his cracked lips every time he spoke made you feel queasy.

Meanwhile, Neil sat on your couch, spread out and feeling hopeless. No other person could ever compare to you, never ever, ever, ever. The thought of you meeting this guy he didn't know anything about except for his god-awful name and possibly hitting it off... maybe starting a life with him... the jealousy was sickening. Genuinely sickening.

It was festering within him, after all these years of watching men come into the store and flirt with you, the jealousy... the possessiveness... that another man talking to his Y/N... brought on was just too much for poor little Neil to handle. The jealousy was now fuelling the reason he still stayed. As soon as you walked through that door, with Russell or not, he'd get on his hands and knees... and beg you to love him... beg you to love him the way he loves you.

An hour went by... and then another, by now, it was nearing 10:30 PM, and Neil wasn't even sure if you were coming home. He then remembered your words of 'going back to his place afterwards' and felt like the biggest idiot in the whole world. He felt like he had lost you... like he was mourning you. His heart broke silently, and the heavyweight in his chest grew to be too intense, too blue to even cry. So he stood up and sighed, looking around your apartment before saying his goodbyes. I won't be over much now that she has a boyfriend, Neil thought. But as he turned around, about to walk out the door, there you stood with your key still in the lock looking at him like you'd look at an angel.

"Neil?" You asked softly as if it could possibly be anyone else.

"Y/N," He gasped, rushing to you, hands reaching out to you. "Please listen to what-" "Who's this?" Russell asks with a scoff, leaning on the doorway. Neil backed away like he had just entered a cock-fight he knew he couldn't win.

"Russell..." You shifted to look at him. "I think it's better if you just go... we can... we can see each other another time." "Yeah, alright," Russell shrugged, playing it cool but Neil saw the flicker of annoyance flash through the man's eyes. Russell turned back around and left, leaving the two of you alone.

"What are you doing here, Neil?" You chided, closing the door and deadbolting it behind you before walking over to the couch with Neil.

"I... I need to talk to you..." Neil whispered. You sat right beside each other, staring into each other's eyes. A feeling grew in your chest like you knew what he was about to say. "Y/N..."

"Neil..."

"I..." He faltered, his eyes looking down at his lap as he reached out, holding both your hands in his. Your heart did a spin at this, lips parted as you breathed heavily. What is happening? "I.... fuck... I don't know how to do this," Neil pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, clearly about to cry. "I've watched so many goddamn movies you'd think I... you'd think I'd have the right thing to say."

"Neil," You whispered, your voice coming out like a warning. "Just say it."

Neil looked up at you, speechless. The expression on his face was truly indescribable. Almost like a dramatic build-up, the room was silent, giving each other this look. This look you had never openly given to each other before.

"I don't want to kill my time with anybody else," Neil began, taking deep breaths. The sounds of cars passing by and trees swaying in the wind could be heard, along with the pounding of your heart. "You're the only one who makes me feel alive."

"Neil," You warned, looking away from him. "Why now?" You blurted out, quickly smacking your hand over your loose mouth.

"Wha...?" Neil asked, torn completely out of the moment by just those two words.

"Why are you telling me this now?" You questioned. Your hands ran down your face. "Why, Neil, Why?"

"What do you mean?" Neil shook his head, eyebrows knitted together. "What do you mean?!"

You were standing up now, you couldn't be close to him, you felt too dizzy. "After all these years... why are you only telling me this now?"

"I-I... I..." Neil stammered, utterly speechless this time. He wasn't expecting this reaction, he couldn't quite place what you were feeling. "I was afraid, Y/N."

"Of what?" You raised your voice and he flinched and suddenly the guilt hit you like a freight train. Tears fell down your face, ruining your makeup.

"Of losing you! Losing the only person in my life who actually matters!" Neil stood up as well, approaching you. Like a game of cat and mouse, you stepped away while he kept trying to round the coffee table to get to you. "I need you, Y/N. I need you to know how badly," He pleaded with you, but you couldn't find a way to let him further into your heart. He'd hit bone if he went any further into it.

"Neil, I don't know anymore! You're so confusing!" You screeched as he bumped into you, knocking you down onto the couch and he knelt in front of you, pleading eyes staring up at you. "I don't know what you want from me!" You cried.

"I want everything," He whispered, hands placed on both of your thighs. "I want to be yours... I want you to be mine. How do I make this any clearer?"

"I don't... I don't have you," You felt like you were being torn apart. "You don't want me. You just... you're just confused! You don't want me! You want..." You closed your eyes, thinking about the women Neil had dated. You felt like he wouldn't be satisfied with you... you felt like you weren't pretty enough or you were too boring or too familiar. "I don't have you... Neil... and I never will."

"You've always had me. Every second of every day... you've had me. I'm yours." Neil whispered, hands squeezing your thighs. "Please. I need to know."

"Need to know what?" "That you'll take me," His fingers travelled further up your goosebump-covered skin. "That you'll let me in, Y/N."

"How?" Your hands shook as you looked him in the eye again. This time... it felt like you were looking at a completely different man. It was no longer just your best friend you were looking at... but the man pleading with you to love him as if you hadn't been silently loving him from afar... all these years.

"Please let me show you."

Neil used his hands to balanced himself as he slowly and intimately leaned in, lips brushing yours every-so slightly. "Neil..." You whispered.

"Shh...." He hushed.

And your lips joined together. It felt like your body had let him in, like he was rewriting your DNA and letting every part of him consume you. He sat beside you now, cradling you in his arms as you kissed slowly. This was all so new to you, unlike any other kiss you had ever experienced. Every other kiss before this just felt like you were trying to negotiate something... but this... this kiss felt like your body had found its missing limb like it had found what it had been lacking all these years.

A string of spit connects the two of you as Neil softly pulls away, panting for breath. "Am I in yet?" He chuckled.

You tilted your head, squinting and stroking your chin, pretending you were struggling to decide. "Maybe... I don't know yet... think you'll have to try harder..." Your voice was still a bit shaky from crying. "Alright," He snorts before diving back in and kissing you rougher this time but still in that romantic, slow way. One hand placed on your hip and the other guiding the back of your head as you made out. Tongues pawing at each other like they were getting acquainted.

"Please touch me," Neil whimpered into your lips, and oh fuck, that was the most divine noise you had ever heard. "Please." "Only 'cause you asked so nicely..." You hummed, pushing him down and straddling him. You watched as he threw his head back, biting his lip and holding back the noises he so desperately wanted to make at the feeling of you sitting on him. Your fingers fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, watching him writhe underneath you at only the slightest touch. You popped each button out individually and slowly until Neil was groaning with annoyance.

"Don't be such a tease, Y/N," Neil grunted from behind gritted teeth once you had his shirt off. "If you felt how hard my dick was right now-"

"Oh, I do!" You giggled cheekily, slowly rolling your pelvis in a slow circle right over the tent in his trousers that poked into your thigh.

"You fucker-" He groaned, reaching his arms up and grabbing your head roughly and pulling you into a soul-sucking kiss, tongue grappling at yours desperately.

You moaned through dancing lips as you had the most delicious friction going. Neil was being just as loud as you, whimpers vibrating through your sternum and into your soul. Neil bucks his hips up pathetically before he breaks the kiss abruptly.

"You've gotta stop or I'm... I'm gonna..." He buried his muzzle in your neck and moaned. "I'm gonna fuckin cum in my pants." "Oh yeah?" You grinned, grinding your hips even faster.

"That means stop!" He grabs ahold of your wrists and flips you around like you were in a wrestling competition. You gasped out as he had you down against your couch, panting heavily above you with that frustrated-and-horny look. "I knew you'd be a little brat." He spat menacingly before grinning like a puppy, leaning down and kissing you heavily.

You ran your hands up your shirt, trying to pull your shirt off which made Neil pull away slowly when he realized you were taking your top off. "Are you sure?" He said breathily, above you, mouth wide open and his eyes glued on every inch of skin that was slowly being revealed more and more. You just nodded your head and smiled. "Oh fuck, you're showing me your boobs." Neil's eyes lit up like a kid in a candy shop. "Neil," You giggled as you got the top off and out came your tits, and there was Neil sitting there in disbelief at the sight of your boobs. "Neil!" You laughed, hitting him with a cushion; he smacked it away before looking back down at them with this look that almost resembled a look of horror. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"Fucking hell, this is the best thing to ever happen to me," Neil chirped. "Fuck... please, Y/N... please let me squeeze them."

"Go ahead, Neil, touch me," You hummed, raising your arms above your head and leaning back with a Cheshire cat grin as his hands slowly and cautiously cusp your boobs. He let out a soft moan and let his eyes flutter shut as he slid his hands over your breasts, you could hear his breath hitch as his thumb slid over your hard nipples. "You're acting like you haven't touched a boob before," You snickered.

"Oh, believe me, I have..." Neil nodded, eyes open now and staring at your tits like he was high. "Just none as good as these..." He leaned in, hot breath fanning your left breast, lips parted but he doesn't go any further than that.

"Put it in your mouth, pretty boy," You demanded, and like the sub you always thought he was, he obeyed with a smile. "Fuck... that's it." The tops of his cheeks were flushed a gentle pink as he sucked and swirled his tongue around your nipple. "Mmm...." He hummed, eyes closed. His full body weight was resting on you while he sucked on your tits, switching between them. You laid there for quite a while and wondered how long he could do this. You braided your fingers through his hair before tugging it back roughly, and he unwillingly popped off your tit with a loud and whoreish whine.

"Hey!" He complained with eyebrows knitted together as his eyes looked between your eyes and spit-covered tits. He's so spoiled.

"I always knew you'd be a little brat." You said, repeating what he said to you earlier.

Neil drools on you helplessly, groaning as you pull on his hair more until you two are sitting up facing each other. You grin once more and lean in, giving him a sweet little kiss. His hands cupping your tits desperately.

"Carry me to the bedroom." You hummed dramatically, raising your arms in the air, and Neil shook his head and chuckled as he leaned down and wrapped you up in his arms.

"I'm so glad you're my best friend," Neil murmured into your warm shoulder as he padded you guys down to the bedroom he had been in countless times.

"Not just best friends, though," You remarked as he laid you down on the bed with your legs over his shoulders. He reached towards your bedside table.

"Condoms?" He hummed, searching through your drawers, but found nothing.

"Birth control... you should know this you idiot!" You giggled at Neil realizing what you just said.

"Can I...?"

"Yes!"

"Like... inside?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes!" You nodded your head, laughing wildly.

"Fuck you're gonna be the best girlfriend ever!" Neil grunted happily before leaning in and kissing you like you were his last meal.

Meanwhile, he slid your skirt down and unzipped his trousers. You caught a glimpse of his thick cock straining against his briefs and found yourself growing wetter.

"Let me make you mine, Y/N..." He whispered. "Let me finally make you mine."

"I've been yours," You caressed his face. You were both out of your underwear now. The tip of his prick nudging your clit as you looked up at him with so much love. "Please... Neil... please... I need you so bad."

Neil nodded silently, closing his eyes as he lined up his aching cock with your dripping cunt. The initial push in made your mind go blank and your spine arch even further into his touch, Neil moaned as he pushed himself into you fully.

"I can't believe this is happening..." Neil whispered. "This is so much better than I ever imagined it to be."

"You thought about me?" You grinned idiotically, high on the way he was stretching you out.

"Fuck," He groaned, hair falling over his pretty face. "Every fuckin' night."

"Me too."

His hands were placed firmly on your hips, and as he receded back until it was just the head of his cock in you, his fingers slid up to grope at your tits that his eyes had been practically glued on all night. Neil fucked you nice and slow, relishing in the way your pussy felt around him. Your hands were gripping the sheets, legs still thrown over his shoulders and mouth spewing incoherent words of pleasure.

"Neil... baby... oh my god," Your eyes so desperately wanted to shut but you wanted to enjoy how pretty he looked above you. "I love you."

Those words hung heavy in the air for a moment, Neil's hips never faltering as he leaned down and kissed you. "I love you, Y/N." Neil whispered against your hot mouth.

That was all you needed to hear. His cock slid in and out of you, both groaning and moaning as your bodies finally became one. Neil's mouth hung agape against yours, breathing in each other's air. Neil's face was flushed a bright red, pupils blown wide, and his hair messy from how you ran your fingers through it. Your noses brushed together as his pelvis rutted against your clit, dick still so deep inside you.

"I love you so much," Neil panted, thrusting into you desperately. "I always have..."

"Love you..." You whimpered, eyes fluttering shut and your arms slithering around his neck as the pleasure consumed you from the inside out. "So much... Neil..."

Neil pressed a kiss to your cheek, nuzzling your face as he ground into you. "Fuck, please let me cum inside you."

"I'm so close, Neil..." You whispered. "Just hold on a little longer."

Neil grunted. A pyramid of pleasure building within you, ready to crash down and crumble inside of you. Your orgasm grew like a million tiny vines curling around each individual nerve until you saw colors you had never seen before.

"Squeezing me so tight," Neil whined. "I need to cum... please..."

"Cum," You commanded and he did.

Coming undone together felt like it was truly sealing your fate. You had never felt so close to him; you knew you could and would spend the rest of your life with him. He mewled into the crook of your neck, cum spilling into you as you convulsed, orgasm swallowing you whole and ridding you of all your senses. All you felt was him and the impending pleasure devouring you. Neil's whimpers only further pushed you over the edge.

"Y/N," He moaned like a whore. "Fuck... Y/N..." He whined right into your ear as his cock continued to fill you with his warm cum.

Your brain couldn't conceive a proper thought. You couldn't will yourself to speak as he collapsed on top of you. You smile as you lay there together, skin on skin, hearts pounding in sync. Neil pulled out of you with a quiet hiss, picking you up and curling up with you under the sheets.

You looked at each other silently, both still calming down. Your thumb drew infinity signs onto his cheekbone, slowly blinking at the boy you had always wanted- no, needed.

"That was the best thing to ever happen to me," Neil whispered, sleepy eyes looking at you full of adoration. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me." Neil pecked you softly on the lips. "I can't believe it took me this long to tell you... I... I'm sorry." "Shh..." You hushed. "It's okay... we're together now... that's all that matters."

You lay in silence once more, hearts still pounding in your chests. You took in every detail of him, which you had memorized countless times before, but this time it was different. It felt much more intimate. Every crease, every freckle... every tiny minuscule detail of him was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

"Does this mean we're boyfriend-girlfriend now?" Neil chuckled, rolling over onto his back, pulling you into his side.

"Shut up, Neil," You giggled. "You're such a dork."

"You love it." He quipped.

"I do," You agreed. "I love you."

"I love you," Neil smiled sweetly, and as he leaned in to kiss you again, you were quickly interrupted by the sound of Neil's phone ringing. "Fuck me," He grunted, reaching down to grab at his jeans where his phone was. "Hello?" He said with a sour face. "Hi, Jonathan, everything is okay... yes, she's here with me..." Neil looked down at you with a smirk. "Yes, Lucien can borrow my goggles... I don't care... can we talk about this later?" Neil hung up and tossed his phone aside before looking back at you with a sheepish smile.

"What was that about?"

"Well... erm... Jonathan just asked if everything went well... between us..." Neil blushed.

"He knows you're here?"

"He's the reason I came over... he gave me the courage to... y'know... tell you how I feel."

You rolled your eyes and laughed before kissing him deeply. You felt like everything was okay. Now that you had Neil in your arms, you could handle anything that life threw at you. Neil was already planning your wedding in his head as you shared the love between you in a kiss. You wouldn't want it to be anyone else

I NEED NEIL LEWIS.... LIKE RIGHT NOW!!! Ugh, I love him so much. Anyway, hope you enjoyed <3

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